The Journal Keeper (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (6 page)

Nikolas growled, preparing to lunge at the older woman, but Dorin grabbed his shoulder, holding him back.

“Calm down, Nik. We need to trust Morna. Without her, we wouldn’t even have Rianne,” Dorin reminded his friend.

“Damn it. I don’t want her anywhere near that journal,” Nikolas snarled.

“You won’t be able to keep her away from it. The journal will call to her. She’ll find it eventually,” Morna predicted.

“Then I’ll burn it,” Nikolas vowed.

“Merlin cast spells on the journal. It can’t be destroyed,” Morna said, shaking her head.

Nikolas was breathing heavily as he glared at the witch, his muscles twitching at having to restrain himself.

“You take that damned journal back to Gondwanaland. I’m sure the Order of Warlocks would appreciate it,” Nikolas growled.

“It won’t work, Nikolas. The journal will find its way back to her. You can’t separate them,” Morna sighed.

“I think this discussion should be suspended. I’m sure your mate would like to have a chance to decide whether or not she wants to keep the journal,” Silal interrupted.

“I agree,” Dorin quickly stepped in as well.

Nikolas turned to glare at his longtime friend before turning and leaving the study. Morna moved to stand beside Dorin, her weathered hand settling on his arm.

“It’ll take him some time, but I like what I’m seeing so far. Watch out for him, Dorin. He’s not going to admit feeling for her, but he’s going to protect her as if she were his cub,” Morna warned.

“Don’t worry, Morna. I knew who he was when I chose him,” Dorin assured her.

“Just make sure she knows who he is before he hurts her,” Morna insisted before following Nikolas out of the study.

“So, how is your mate?” Silal asked.

“Perfect,” Dorin sighed, giving his father a goofy smile.

“I’m glad to hear it. And don’t listen to Morna. Nikolas won’t let you down,” Silal said.

“I know,” Dorin grinned.

“Let’s go see your mother. I’m sure she’ll be glad to know you’re home,” Silal suggested, wrapping his arm around his son’s shoulders and steering him from the room.

Dorin was eager to find Rianne and Nikolas, but he went with his father, knowing he would see them both soon enough. And hopefully, he would be able to convince them both that Rianne belonged here, with or without the journal.

Rianne wasn’t sure who it was looking at her out of the mirror, but she was almost positive it wasn’t her. Carme had brushed her hair until it shone before putting it up in a soft bun atop her head. Somehow, Carme had managed to curl the few strands that escaped the bun to frame her face. Coffee-colored powder brushed across her lids and pink powder on her cheeks brought out her eyes and gave her face a fresh look. The gown Carme had dug up for her was as reminiscent of medieval times as the outside of the castle. The dark-blue gown matched her eyes almost perfectly while the cut displayed her shoulders provocatively. Gray bands around her waist, wrists, and shoulders added a touch of elegance to the otherwise simple gown.

“You look gorgeous. Those lads won’t know what to do with themselves,” Carme complimented, fussing about the skirt.

“I’ve certainly never worn anything quite like it before. It’s beautiful,” Rianne breathed, skimming her hands down the tight bodice.

“Who knew the old witch actually knew what she was talking about?” Carme smiled, brushing at the skirt a final time.

“Now, Carme, it’s not polite to talk about someone when they aren’t around,” an older woman scolded as she walked inside.

“My apologies, Mistress,” Carme curtsied.

“It’s all right, dear. No harm done. Now, let me get a look at the future queen,” the woman insisted, moving to stand in front of Rianne.

The wild mass of white curls atop her head did nothing to distract from the blankness of her purple eyes. She wore a long black gown reminiscent of a nun’s habit, complete with a large white collar and woven belt. Rianne was instantly wary of the woman and flushed when she proceeded to stare at Rianne’s dress.

“I agree with Carme that it’s a lovely color on you. I’ll have to give my compliments to the seamstress. Andraste really knows her stuff,” the woman grinned.

“It’s a beautiful gown,” Rianne murmured, twisting her fingers together nervously.

“As I knew it would be. Though I must say, I expected you to put up more of a fight when Dorin and Nikolas brought you here,” the woman commented, circling Rianne.

“I’m sorry,” Rianne said, though it came out as more of a question.

“Nonsense, my dear. It’s a good thing. Your heart knew your place was with Nikolas and Dorin even before your head. Such a wonderful thing,” the woman beamed.

“I hate to be rude, but who are you?” Rianne asked as the woman came to a stop in front of her.

“Morna, of course. I’m the one who sent your mates after you and the journal,” Morna explained.

“The journal?” Rianne questioned.

“Oh, no time for that now, deary. We’ve got to get you to the feast. I’m afraid that polar bear of yours will throw a fit if he doesn’t see you soon. Dorin can only keep him calm for so long, you know,” Morna babbled, hooking her arm through Rianne’s.

“Why would Nikolas get upset?” Rianne asked as they left the bedroom.

“He’ll need to assure himself that you are safe and settling in. It’s the bear in him. Dorin won’t worry so much and will expect you to be able to handle yourself fairly well, but Nikolas will hover like a mama bear with her cubs,” Morna told her.

Rianne could think of no response to that as Morna led her through the castle, going on about the differences between bears and wolves. Vaguely she wondered if the woman was used to someone interrupting her or if she always spoke so much.

“Of course, you would assume that since he’s been living with wolves most of his life he would pick up on some of their finer qualities, but it’s nearly impossible to get that bear to do anything he doesn’t want to. Incredibly stubborn creatures, bears are,” Morna said with a resigned sigh.

By this point, they had come to the top of the main staircase, and Rianne looked down to see both Nikolas and Dorin waiting for her. Her heart gave a slight jerk before it began playing the drums with her ribs. It dawned on her that their superior hearing would alert them to her racing heart.

“Ah, now see. What did I tell you? Anxiously awaiting your arrival. And looking rather spiffy, if I do say so myself.” Morna beamed as they descended the stairs together.

Rianne had to admit, the two looked good as they watched the two women walk down the stairs. Nikolas had let his hair out of its ponytail, allowing the silken strands to fall loosely about his shoulders. Dorin had made an attempt to comb his hair back, but a few strands stroked sensuously across his forehead. Rianne was surprised at how intent the urge was to brush those strands back, to run her fingers along Nikolas’s jawline until he gave her a smile.

Both men were dressed in clothing similar to what was worn during medieval times, which instantly set her at ease about her own outfit. Their pants were black and loose fitting, the ends encased in boots laced up to their knees. Each wore a white shirt with a sleeveless tunic over top, Dorin’s charcoal gray, Nikolas’s forest green.

“You look beautiful,
danalya
,” Dorin breathed as she and Morna came to a stop in front of them.

“Thank you,” Rianne murmured, a warmth stealing over her at his term of endearment.

Carme had explained many things while Rianne had been bathing, some of which were the many words she had heard but didn’t understand. She wasn’t sure how she felt about being Dorin’s “sweetheart,” but she decided she definitely liked hearing it. As much as she liked hearing Dorin’s pet name for her, she found Nikolas’s name for her slightly curious. Having never been compared to a bird in her life, she was surprised that being called “sparrow” caused the same warmth as
danalya
. It was obvious both men cared for her, at least a little.

“Are you ready to meet my parents?” Dorin asked, extending his arm for her to take.

“Not really, but I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Rianne asked, smiling weakly.

“Afraid not, but Nikolas and I will be with you every step of the way,” Dorin assured her.

Rianne turned to the hulking man beside them, a slight thrill going through her as she took in his gruff expression. Without a word, she looped her other arm through his, settling herself between the two.

“May I offer my other arm to you, madam?” Dorin suggested, holding out his other arm for Morna.

“Aren’t you just adorable? No, no, I’m afraid I won’t be joining you for supper. I have pressing matters to discuss with the flowerbeds. I will see you soon, Rianne.” Morna smiled, waving as she practically skipped toward the rear of the castle.

“I really don’t like her,” Nikolas grumbled once she was out of sight.

“I know, but Mother insisted she stay. We can’t exactly force her out,” Dorin said as the three of them made their way toward the dining hall.

“I don’t see why not. She’s a damned nuisance, and all that magic is making my fur twitch,” Nikolas complained darkly.

“What exactly is she?” Rianne asked, curious about the slightly insane woman.

“Morna is the High Priestess of the Order of Witches. She’s harmless, really, but Nikolas dislikes anything to do with the magi of this realm,” Dorin told her.

“How come?” Rianne asked, turning to her other escort.

“Perhaps someday I’ll tell you. For now, just know it is best to always be wary when dealing with those who possess magic,” Nikolas warned as they came to a stop, his blue eyes piercing her own.

“Okay,” Rianne murmured, unable to break his hypnotic stare.

His icy gaze melted as he skimmed the back of his fingers across her jawline, the pad of his thumb brushing her bottom lip. She knew her eyes were probably huge as she watched him, anticipating the feel of his lips against hers. Her heart was beating so loud, she was sure they could both hear it as Dorin’s hands moved down to caress her hips as Nikolas leaned in toward her. He was close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her face, doing absolutely nothing to cool the molten lava that had replaced the blood flowing through her veins. Dorin crowded her from the back, his body heat seeping into her even though there was still distance between them. She wanted to stay right where she was, warm and safe between their two bodies, knowing nothing would make them leave.

“Ahem.”

Nikolas tensed, his entire body as still and hard as a statue. His eyes promised retribution for whoever had interrupted them as he slowly stood to his full height.

“What?” Nikolas snapped, looking over his shoulder.

Dorin’s hands squeezed her hips slightly before he returned her hand to his arm. She found herself missing the warmth his body had offered when he was behind her. Nikolas, too, turned, though he kept her hidden from the person who had so rudely interrupted.

“My apologies, sir. Highness. The king sent me to see to your whereabouts. He feared you may have become…distracted,” a voice explained nervously, no doubt due to Nikolas’s intense glare.

“We were just on our way. Thank you, Fawsny.” Dorin nodded to the man.

Nikolas held out his arm without turning, his protective stance still firmly in place. Rianne tentatively slid her hand into the crook of his arm, moving to stand beside him slowly. He turned his ice-blue eyes on her and for a moment, she feared he might attack her. Instead, his face softened, and he brought his other hand up to caress her fingers as he and Dorin continued to lead her toward the dining hall.

* * * *

Dorin spent most of supper watching Rianne. Despite her hesitation about meeting his parents, she had both of them completely charmed. She was teasing his father, giving as good as she got and surprising the old wolf with her quick wit. His mother was peppering Rianne with questions of the human realm, all of which Rianne answered as completely as possible. Visess was especially fascinated with the idea of what Rianne called “democracy.”

Nikolas sat on his other side, both of them across from their mate. He hadn’t spoken much throughout supper, but he watched Rianne like a hawk. His eyes followed her every move, unconsciously mimicking her as they all ate. Dorin was sure he didn’t realize it, but Nikolas always waited for Rianne to take a bite before taking one himself.

“Tell me, Rianne. What was your line of work in your home world?” Visess asked as the servants cleared away the last of the dishes.

“I was a linguist. Basically, I studied languages and learned how to translate them. Actually, I’ve been working on this one book that was found about a month ago. The language is unknown, and my boss tasked me with deciphering it. Though now I doubt I’ll get to finish it,” Rianne sighed, shooting Nikolas and Dorin an angry look.

“Why is that?” Visess asked, leaning forward.

“They don’t exactly look highly upon people who just up and vanish. I’m sure my boss will be furious when he realizes I’m not coming into work on Thursday,” Rianne explained, though she sounded pained.

“It doesn’t matter what your boss thinks. You will be staying with us, here, and you will never have to work again,” Dorin assured her, smiling warmly.

“Did it ever occur to you to ask whether or not I wanted to stay here?” Rianne asked, raising an eyebrow as she stared him down.

“Why wouldn’t you want to stay with us? You are our mate.” Dorin frowned, confused as to where this was going.

“Yeah, well, nobody asked my opinion on that either. Maybe I don’t want to be mated to the two of you,” Rianne said quietly, turning from both of them and focusing back on Visess instead.

“It looks as though you’ll have your hands full with this one, you two,” Silal chuckled, sipping his wine.

Nikolas merely grunted, his focus still on Rianne despite her attempt to ignore him. Dorin, however, continued to frown at his mate, unsure of why she was so unhappy with him. He wondered if maybe she didn’t feel the same way he and Nikolas did. Maybe mating was different for humans. He had been trying to give her space throughout the day, to let her come to terms with her new role, but maybe that had been a mistake. Perhaps it would’ve been better if he and Nikolas had shown her the potential of what could happen between them.