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He stepped to the side, revealing the wide open door to the hallway. Strange how she hadn’t noticed before, but neither of these males had shut her in, and the subtle shift in Bronze’s position had been a way to let her know that. She wasn’t a prisoner, nor were they her jailors. She could go. At any time, she imagined she could rise from the bed, walk out that door, and she’d be free to do so.
This was nothing more than a simple conversation, something she’d done countless times with numerous strangers. Yes, she could do this.
“I have come seeking a male from the human lands, but as you said, I have mistakenly arrived elsewhere.” There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?
“Plenty of humans walking this earth, Clara. They’re not hard to find. Shit, there are so damn many of them, you can hardly sneeze without goobering at least a couple.”
“Bronze,” Rhode warned.
The male cleared his throat. “I simply meant to convey the scope of the species. What I’d like to know is how the hell a female lycan makes it to however many years you have and not encountered any humans before. This is the mortal realm, after all. The mortal realm.”
Well, that certainly caught her off guard. Oh boy. How to respond. Clara was not at all prepared for Bronze to identify her species so casually, nor for her worldly ignorance to be spotlighted so fully, and in front of an audience, no less.
Honesty would have to be the best policy for now.
“Yes, I am a lycan and the daughter of King Halpin.” Clara stared at the floor and waited for the recognition to flood the room. When no further comments were made, she looked up. Both males simply stared at her with expectant expressions, as if she hadn’t just revealed herself to be of royal blood. As if they had no interest in her lineage or understanding of her father’s holdings.
And then it dawned on her. They truly don’t know who I am.
“You are a princess, then?” Rhode asked.
She blinked, then stammered a moment, never having been asked the question in her life. Gosh, how did she even answer that? “Yes, I am. And that is the reason why I have come searching outside my father’s lands.”
“Searching for what?” Bronze asked.
“A, uh . . . a male who is willing to compete for my hand in marriage.” Clara cringed. Just saying her plight out loud cast a heavy shroud of desperation over her shoulders. What if it didn’t work? What if this male said no? What if?—
“I’ll admit, none of us even knew lycans existed until a few months ago, and even then, it wasn’t through witnessed events. We’ve no knowledge of your father, of any royal lycan lines, where you live, how you’re governed, or even your physiology,” Rhode clarified. “But it’s clear you know something about humans. I take it your people are good at staying hidden?”
“Yes, quite so. My father’s stronghold is located a couple of hours from where Bronze found me.”
“How is that possible? We would have known about you,” Bronze replied.
Clara shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t have. Our lands are protected and well hidden.”
The scoff that echoed through the tiny room was loud enough to rattle the glass jars on the counter, as well as her nerves. “We’ve been stuck in the mortal realm since before the White Mountains were pimples on the butt of Pangea. You expect us to believe a secret race of lycans managed to just sprout up, establish a whole civilization, and stay tucked in the corner out of sight like a clump of dust bunnies?”
“And yet, your friend admits you had not heard of my kind before a few months ago. I assure you, we are well hidden and have always been.” Clara’s quiet rebuff sucked the air right out of the room, leaving her flailing behind to figure out how to cover her gaffe.
Oh, precious Moon Mother. Had those words really just tumbled out of her stupid mouth? “Uh, that is to say, we?—”
Rhode chuckled softly. “You don’t need to apologize. In fact, you’ve presented the perfect opportunity for my kin here to share our own nature with you. You must be just as curious, I imagine.”
Embarrassed, she nodded.
“Bronze?”
The male leered at Rhode before acquiescing to the request. “We’re angels. Warrior sentinels of the Empyrean, Heaven’s highest realm. We’ve been living among the mortals for, as I said, a good long while.”
It was Clara’s turn to eye them suspiciously, which would have been a heck of a lot easier to do if she could remember to blink. “Angels? With wings and such?”
Bronze smiled, clearly enjoying her renewed sense of discomfort. “And such.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to state the obvious, but no, she couldn’t. Could she?
Well, since they had established an open level of honesty, surely she could ask?—
“The wings come and go,” Bronze cut in. “Can’t have ‘em out all the time. Huge nightmare to keep clean. Air pollution doesn’t just affect the lungs. The tarnish and buildup from that stuff is killer. Besides, they get annoying to maneuver with when you’re trying to eat a meal or go for a swim. Hell of a way to get around, though.”
