"Ileus!" Áine cried when she stepped out of the cave of ancient tombstones. It was such a pleasant surprise, which obviously her husband gave. She was sure that he would have known about Ileus' journey in Sgiath Biò but he chose to keep this information under tight seal. When King Ian stepped behind her, he let out a small laughter as he circled past her and walked to his son-in-law. He clasped Ileus' upper arms and then embraced him. 

"Welcome home, son," said the king with a broad smile. "How was your journey?" 

Ileus bowed to him. "It was fine," he replied while he glanced at his wife. 

Anastasia's heart fluttered as a thousand butterflies had stirred over there. Her breath hitched and a lump formed in her throat. Color rose in her cheeks but she kept quiet even as she stared at him, wanting to desperately get in his arms, wanting to smell him and feel those hands all around her. But she kept as stiff as possible, not happy that he chose to come after seven days.. He was looking… disheveled. His tousled raven black hair glinted in the first rays of sun. Those jagged cheekbones appeared even more sharp in the shadows that delineated his face. It was as if the first thing he did was to come and see her as soon as he came to Vilinski. His tunic appeared rough with grass blades and sprays of wet mud. The speckles of snow were melting off the shoulders. Gods, the man looked dirty and gorgeous. And why did he have that wicked bruise on his left cheekbone? 

The king and the queen flanked him on the sides. "You are very slimy, Ian!" Áine remarked as she walked with them back to the castle. "Why didn't you tell me?" 

"Well, I wanted to see the surprise on our daughter's face!" he replied, winking at Anastasia. Her face was etched with an expression he would tell the court painter to capture on canvas. The girl was speechless and that neither of them spoke meant that they were angry with each other. They walked silently behind them. Ah, the young love. He turned his attention to Ileus. "Join us for breakfast, son once you have cleaned up." 

Áine swatted her husband's hand. "Let him eat first. He must be so hungry." 

"Anything is fine with me," replied the king. Ian Aramaer was the happiest man today. Both his daughter and son-in-law were there with him. With faes reproducing once in thousands of years, he wondered if he would ever have another heir. After Etaya, Áine had kind of become bitter about this topic, and he didn't persist. And so he reveled in his daughter. The fact that she was carrying a baby meant she was carrying his heir—a thing that he would talk about to Adrianna and Dmitri. 

"I would like to take a bath," said Ileus very quietly. 

"Good!" Ian said and they talked about everything about his journey and then some more. When they reached the palace, Ian said, "I will be waiting for both of you in the throne room. We have to announce the opening of Yule." 

Ileus bowed to them once again and then headed to his wife's chamber, the route he knew like the back of his palm. As soon as they reached the room, Ileus closed the door softly behind them. Anastasia walked to the bed and looked at him from beneath her eyelashes. After glaring at her for a long time, he sauntered to the bathroom, while removing his clothes one by one and dropping them in a trail. By the time he was near the bathroom's door, he was naked. The great peacock stretched his arms and then flexed his shoulder muscles, which rippled beneath that skin at every movement—all while trying to look casual and arrogant. He was very angry with her and he had promised to himself that he wouldn't talk to her first. She had to apologize for what she did. Though he couldn't fathom the relief that rushed to him the moment he saw her. It was like ocean waves rushing to the banks. For three days he had traveled non-stop to reach here, much to the chagrin of his friends and the group of soldiers who must have cursed him silently. 

She heard water splashing and loud grunting noises as her husband made a show of taking a bath. She paced in the bedroom feeling utterly angry and at a loss of words. She couldn't believe that her father hadn't informed her about his arrival. When he came out with a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist, no, the towel which he held carelessly around his waist, giving an ample show of that muscled thigh, Anastasia caught a glimpse of it. But she averted her gaze the moment she felt his gaze on her. Gods, he was handsome in an angry, brooding way. Now that he had taken a bath, his wide masculine jaw clean-shaven, his thick and black hair slicked back and his irises onyx just like his emotions, he looked even more harsh. 

Anastasia realized that she was gawking at him, as if she had seen him shirtless for the first time. She let out a shaky breath and color rose to her cheeks. A sudden image of her kneeling in front of him with her lips wrapped around his shaft flashed across her mind. Beneath her gown, her breasts hardened and nipples pebbled. Damn it! The werewolf was messing with her mind. She tried to shove those images out her mind, but then more salacious ones entered. This time his face was buried in the curls between her thighs. 

Tendrils of sunlight had begun creeping into their bedchamber. 

Ileus walked to the dresser and stood in front of the full length mirror. His gaze met hers in it and he dropped her towel. And now he stood in front of her in all his shamelessness. Even though his wife appeared extremely innocent, he had to tell her that she was involved in some kind of ruse—seduction. She was the one who was seducing him while he was doing what she wanted him to. He was merely acting on his instinct. The irresistible little fae. Oh, how he would punish her. 

Anastasia was done with his arrogant male. She got up to leave but the door wouldn't open however hard she tried. Not wanting to talk to him, she stomped back to bed and sat down and glared at the insufferable, arrogant as hell, naked as hell and fucking seductive as hell, husband. Anastasia picked up a pillow and squeezed it tight, until the man got dressed, which was painfully slow. At one point of time, she caught him stroking himself and had again gawked while gaping, but averted her gaze the moment he caught her eyes. So this was the game he was playing. Fine. She knew how to give it back. She was not the one to back down. 

They reached the court an hour later, missing breakfast all together. The king was waiting for his son-in-law and daughter to declare the festival open. He walked with them outside to the venue. 

--- 

Somewhere in the mountains of Tibris, a roar emanated. It was so full of malevolence that the air around it, stilled, as if smelling death. 

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