Olandon Read online

  She grinned at the male beside her, another member of the Glacium assembly who’d elected to go on the tri-world exchange. “Not long now, Galan. You can do it.”

  He looked a tad green, poor thing. He gave her a weak smile in return.

  In minutes, their party would land at the palace. She clamped down on the flipping sensation in her stomach.

  Had he changed? Had she changed? Did Olandon still feel the same? Even before he’d left with the Bruma armies to fight his mother’s cruel rule, he’d never vocalized his feelings, but Greta knew he just wasn’t lovey-dovey like that, no matter how much she’d yearned to hear three words in particular.

  Something ran between them, a deeper understanding as well as an intense attraction. Greta believed in the memories of those feelings, certain they’d existed. Yet they were literally worlds apart, and whatever else she didn’t know about the Tatum of Osolis, she did know that to separate him from his world was impossible. But that didn’t matter because Greta had decided to go to him.

  That was why she’d set up everything back home so she could stay on Solis permanently.

  Finding her widowed father a new wife had taken longer than she’d anticipated, but now that was done and the wedding had passed, so Greta didn’t need to worry he’d be lonely.

  Shard, Queen Olina’s close friend, called for them to descend.

  Greta’s eyes widened as she looked upon the foreign world for the first time. The acrid stench of smoke stung her nostrils. She knew from those who had completed the last exchange that the skies in Osolis filled with billowing smoke each night and were cleared during the day by black trees. In the distance, the land glowed molten with the fires of the Fourth, the deadliest part of the world. To contain the ever-burning fire, large rivers bordered the six rotations of Osolis, leading to a gigantic lake in the middle.

  “Are you guys seeing this?” she shouted ahead. It was breathtaking, and despite her discomfort at the height, Greta was happy for this opportunity to gain a bird’s-eye view of the fire world.

  The others in her group peered around in an amazement that equaled hers, though judging by the sweat pouring off some of them, not everyone would be a fan of the heat. Her own complexion tended towards fair, very fair, a match to her bright orange hair and clear blue eyes, and she doubted her skin would do well here. Though the Solati court wore robes that covered them from wrist to ankle, so that would offer some protection for her skin.

  Shard directed them down into a garden and Greta focused on angling the Soar correctly in order to land. They’d each had Soar lessons before leaving, and flying wasn’t as difficult as it looked, but Olandon would greet them and she didn’t want to fall flat on her face.

  Greta landed with a wide smile and shook feeling back into her fur- and leather-clad legs. Her hands went to the straps of the contraption, but where her fingers had been sure on the journey, now they were fumbling.

  Shard came to help her remove the Soar, and Greta decided she had to say something.

  “Is the Tatum here?” she asked Shard, cheeks burning. “Tatum Olandon?”

  Shard glanced up at her. The females and males of her kind tended to be the same height, but Shard was on the shorter side for a Bruma. His eyes met hers in a piercing look. The advisor bothered many people in the castle because he really did see everything. He’d never bothered Greta because, well, she never had anything to hide. Until now. Kind of.

  “He will be here soon. He’s just talking with Sin,” Shard replied with the slight arch of a brow.

  Her face burned brighter, but she was happy for Sin’s sake; he’d been tied up in knots over a woman who was marrying a monster today, or so he’d said. “I hope his plan works.”

  Shard snorted. “So do I, if only so he’ll shut up.”

  Greta clucked sympathetically. “He has been very—”

  “—annoying—”

  “I was going to say stressed, but you have been his main set of ears. No doubt you look forward to a break?”

  The man’s face darkened, and he gave a curt nod, disappearing with her Soar.

  Taking a deep breath, Greta steeled herself, and as the group of Bruma men in front of her dispersed, following Shard, she peered across the manicured and cobbled courtyard.

  Her breath caught as Olandon rounded the corner. He was heartbreakingly handsome. His blue-black hair was cropped shorter than the males of her race, but still had the tendency to hang over his eyes as it was right now. His eyes were deep brown, like all Solatis’, but how she remembered their rich depths and how they melted like chocolate when they were together. He was tall, slightly taller than her and as tall as any Bruma male, but where the males of her kind were muscled giants, Olandon was lean, poised. To her eyes, he was lethal and graceful, powerful and shrewd. Greta had never met anyone like him, and she was certain she never would. The Glacium queen came close in personality, being his sister, but Olandon exuded mystery and presented an impenetrable self-control which Greta very much meant to be the one to get inside of.

  She drifted closer to where Sin was speaking to Olandon.

  “I can help you with that little problem, you know?” Sin was saying. He accompanied the comment with a glance her way.

  Greta’s eyes narrowed. If she was the little problem Sin was referring to, he’d hear about it later, no matter his current predicament.

  But Olandon didn’t answer. Instead, he slowly lifted his gaze from Sin to her.

  Greta’s cheeks flooded as his eyes met hers. Oh no, what was running through that head? A fire had entered his gaze. That didn’t seem good. The best outcome was he wanted to chuck her over his shoulder right there and make up for lost time. The worst outcome was that he wondered what in three worlds she was doing here. Shit, shit, shit.

  Greta broke off the stare and turned away, chest rising under her tied black vest. A drip of sweat ran down the side of her neck as she tried to regulate her breathing. Long ago, Greta learned that trying to stop from blushing was a hopeless cause for someone with pale skin, but she’d like to be able to speak coherently. That would be really, really great.

  She glanced back and blinked to see Sin being carted off by two Solati guards. Her heart sank in sympathy. He had to be wild right now.

  “Greta.”

  The voice was cool. The fire world’s leader portrayed himself as ice; she’d often noted it. Normally, she’d blast through as much of it as possible, but Greta felt out of her depth considering the whole ‘I arrived unannounced because I love you’ thing.

  “Hey,” she said awkwardly. “How are you?”

  His eyes flickered at her question. Ugh, the question thing.

  “You are how?” she tried again, then shook her head. “How you are?”

  Olandon winced, pushing his hair back. “I’m fine. Thank you. You are well,” he said.

  Damn it, she’d known there must be a trick to it. “I am well. I’m here for the. . . .” She gestured after the others in her group. “Tri-world exchange. . . .”

  He nodded, hands clasped behind his back. “So I assumed.” A glint entered his eyes, and she flushed.

  This was not how she’d imagined their reunion. Her fantasies involved a lot less clothing, a passionate and public kissing session, and proclamations of how much he’d missed her.

  His eyes scanned her face. He blinked several times, noting her attention. She dropped her gaze to his hand.

  “A message from Olina,” she tried not to ask.

  “Yes.” He sighed, though his eyes were still roaming over her.

  She slid her eyes to where Sin and the guards had disappeared. “Is Sin okay? He was pretty tied up on the way here about a Solati woman who was marrying an old monster today.”

  Olandon’s eyes steeled, and the parchment crinkled in his grip. “He’ll be fine.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “That remains to be seen. I need to observe the woman first. And stopping the wedding of a Satum is not
high on my list of favorite things to do.” He cut off her next question. “Greta,” he said softly. “Tell me why you have come.”

  Her throat constricted at the look in his eyes. “I. . . .” Had she made a terrible mistake? But what they’d shared had been real, she was certain. She tilted her chin. “I came because I love you, and I wondered whether you may love me, too.”

  She faltered at the widening of his eyes. Covering her face with both hands, she groaned. “Oh no, I completely misunderstood your feelings, didn’t I?” A lump rose hard and swift through her throat. “It just . . . it felt so real.”

  Hands circled each wrist and drew her arms down. His palms burned on her skin. Finally, he was touching her. Greta swallowed a gasp at the contact. How could he not feel that, too? It didn’t seem possible.

  “You did not misunderstand my regard for you,” Olandon said, staring intently at her until she met his eyes once more.

  Regard? Greta felt ‘regard’ for clothing and alcohol. “Oh, great. I’m glad I came all this way to spend months here and enjoy your regard.”

  His jaw tightened and Greta tracked the clenching down his neck to the triangle of skin at the top of his deep blue robes.

  “Greta . . . what we shared was real. I want you to know that. But . . . I am Tatum now.”

  Her jaw dropped. “I’m not good enough for you?” The royalty on Glacium could be with whomever they chose. Greta had known Osolis had more rules, but that she wouldn’t be highborn enough for Olandon had never crossed her mind.

  He winced again. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Then you better get whatever you want to say out right now.” Greta placed her hands on her hips. “I’m good enough for anyone, Your Highness, and don’t you forget it.”

  Olandon cast a quick glance around. “I only meant that I am more tightly tied than I was, Greta.”

  “You were already tied up before,” she countered.

  “Not like this,” he said, nostrils flaring.

  Greta tilted her head, watching him closely. On Glacium it was no secret that Greta was the life of the party. She enjoyed a good time, and for everyone else to have a good time, too. She couldn’t bear to see people unhappy—unless they treated others like dirt; then they could reap what they sowed, in her humble opinion. “Tell me what bothers you, Olandon. Please.”

  He clenched the parchment again. “Just. . . .” He shook his head. “It’s nothing, Greta. Nothing I can’t handle, but,” he stepped closer, “I need you to return to Glacium.”

  Greta sucked in a breath, blinking back a burning behind her eyes as she took a step back. “What?”

  “It’s not safe for you here.” He closed his eyes. “This place is not for someone like you, so carefree and fun-loving. This place—my court—will tear you apart, especially if they see you mean something to me.”

  He didn’t want her here, though he’d said ‘mean something’ not ‘meant something.’ “Just tell them to sort their shit out,” she said.

  His face firmed. “That won’t work. Not right now.”

  He was really telling her no after she’d come all this way for him. And not saying no because he felt nothing—saying no because he thought the Solati wouldn’t accept her. The burning in her eyes grew; Greta had to get out of here before she cried. She nodded, dropping her gaze. “I-it was foolish of me to come all this way—”

  “Greta—”

  She lifted both hands to stop his approach. “No, I shouldn’t have held you to what happened on Glacium.”

  Someone called out.

  Olandon increased the distance between them before she’d even registered the sound. The movement was as effective as stabbing a wooden splinter into her heart.

  “Tatum Olandon,” a woman greeted.

  “Orita.” He greeted her, turning away from Greta.

  The woman came to stand close before him. She was tiny and made Greta feel like a fucking horse. Though the thought of how easy kicking the smaller woman in the head would be lifted Greta’s spirits for a moment.

  Olandon threw her a hard look and then gestured to the new woman who fell in beside him as he walked back into the manicured gardens.

  He half-turned and spoke over his shoulder. “Welcome to Osolis, Greta. I hope your temporary stay is a pleasant one.”

  Chapter Three

  Olandon walked beside Orita in utter shock.

  “This is a bad time,” she ventured.

  “Yes,” Olandon said without thinking. He cursed inwardly as her eyes narrowed. Orita was as ruthless as they came. She always had been. They were similar in age, and she was the bride the court likely expected him to take when he was older. He’d hoped for a few more years before making that choice, and if he had his way, the Fourth Rotation would freeze over before he married Orita. But if the court began to rebel, she’d be one of his only options to regain favor.

  A slight color crept up her neck at his abrupt reply.

  “That Bruma woman was the last one left here from the greeting,” Orita said.

  Olandon was careful to show nothing; it was why he’d immediately left with Orita, and turned a cold shoulder on Greta. He’d seen the pain in her beautiful blue eyes as he’d turned away. She’d traveled all this way, for him. Olandon could only imagine how mortified she was right now, but having Greta on Orita’s radar was not an option.

  Orita would manipulate and destroy Greta’s good heart.

  Olandon felt far too much for the Bruma woman to keep her here, as much as he might want her. Greta was a free spirit; the snide undercurrents and tight control on his world would extinguish her fire. He never wanted to see that happen.

  Right now, Orita was searching for a reason he had to leave. Olandon held up the parchment in his hand. Sin had passed it over moments before, just after sharing his idea for Interworld Games. After Olandon got past the shock that Sin had come up with the idea, he’d seen the value straightaway. Just this morning, he’d been searching for something to help tie the three worlds together. Now, he had it.

  He should have known the idea would come with ties attached, however.

  Olandon lifted the note, pretending to read it again.

  “Please excuse me, Orita,” he said. “I have urgent matters to attend to.” That should throw her off the track for now until he could get Greta off Osolis.

  “Veni,” he cursed under his breath as he moved away.

  All he wanted to do was go to Greta and try to undo the hurt he’d caused. Greta felt things so deeply—something Olandon had found vaguely terrifying at first. She wore her heart on her sleeve, and he knew she’d be wounded over his earlier words. He felt like a piece of . . . shit, to borrow a Bruma word. But Olandon was Tatum, and there really was an urgent concern. Sin wanted him to stop Satum Namas’s wedding. That was what he’d asked for. Olandon’s initial reaction had been to tell him no, which he’d done—at least until he got a chance to further investigate.

  Sin was Olina’s friend, and while Olandon often wondered why they were good friends, he’d noted the intelligence within Sin often. What he’d never seen was Sin use that intelligence to benefit anyone other than himself.

  Odds were, Sin was dreaming up the whole affair because he loved her, but Olandon didn’t like the thought of anyone being forced into marriage. He would observe the woman during the ceremony and hopefully find nothing amiss.

  If he did . . . that was where the potential for loss of control occurred.

  There were only three Satums, who helped to ensure Osolis ran smoothly, and they were ranked underneath the royal family. Being one of the three Satums, Namas held much sway in the court, as he should. What caused the heaviness in Olandon’s stomach was that, right now, the Satum might hold more sway than he did.

  If the Satum’s wedding had to be stopped, it couldn’t come directly from Olandon. That was crucial.

  He re-entered the palace through the courtyard and set off down the progressively darkening Kaur-wood passage
towards his chambers. Checking that the hall was empty, he read the message in his hand for the second time. The note contained three words that made the current predicament all the more bitter.

  He loves her.

  Olina knew more about the goings-on of this world than he did. Olandon gritted his teeth and crumpled the note once more. Sin had delivered the note along with the words, “From your more deserving relative.”

  He could have no idea how those words punched him in the gut. Olandon loved his sister more than anything in the world. He’d looked up to her from a young age, and that hadn’t changed. She’d forged the beginnings of peace between three races where none before her had succeeded in securing peace between two.

  Therein lay the issue.

  She did those things, not him. Olandon was on the throne because she hadn’t wanted it, not because he deserved it. Did his people compare him to her? Did they sense his disquiet? Could they see he wanted to be anywhere else but here?

  Olandon pushed open the heavy door to his chamber and tossed the note by the desk in the far corner.

  He loved his sister.

  He hated the position she’d put him in by abdicating the throne.

  Glancing out of the opening on the second floor, Olandon peered towards Glacium, stomach lurching. “I fear I will be in your shadow for the rest of my life.”

  These people deserved more than a shadow. They deserved the real thing.

  Chapter Four

  Two years earlier: Osolis, Second Rotation

  Olandon had skipped dinner for the night. As bitterly angry as he was at his sister for running off to Glacium, he couldn’t listen to his mother ridicule her to the entire court. The Tatum hadn’t stopped all week, and while he was ashamed to admit he’d listened wholeheartedly for the first few days, something about what his mother was doing didn’t feel right.