She went to the double doors that led to the pool and put her hand on the wood feeling for the locks or security sensors. A smile pulled at her lips when she felt neither. Kiril was either foolish or knew it would take a supernatural being to dare to enter his domain.
That gave her pause, because from what she knew of the Dragon King, he was anything but foolish. What if he knew the Dark were watching him? To come to Ireland where the Fae—especially the Dark—had claimed it as their own was pure insanity.
Which meant … he knew he was being watched.
The fact he left his home unlocked revealed that he didn’t care who entered. And knew that someone would.
Shara wondered if any of the other Dark had dared, or if she was the first. She hoped she was the first, because it was an invasion of privacy. The others would likely destroy things or use them against Kiril.
Isn’t that what you plan to do?
Shara didn’t so much want to use anything against Kiril as she wanted to learn more about him so she could carry out her mission.
Same damn thing. Lying to yourself isn’t going to make things better.
She really hated when she was right. After a deep breath, Shara opened the door and stepped inside the two-story house. Inside was as immaculate as she’d expected. The furniture was simple, nothing flashy or too modern. Dark colors, clean lines. The pictures were those of landscapes or buildings. It was the same from room to room, only the colors changed.
She paused when she reached the foyer. The floor was gray marble and a huge chandelier hung above her. The staircase curved elegantly to the second floor.
His bedroom.
Shara slowly walked up the stairs and stopped at the top. She looked to the left down the hallway and saw several doors. The estate had eight bedrooms, but the master suite—the one Kiril would have claimed—would be by itself.
She turned to the right and followed the rug down a short hallway and around a corner. Another set of double doors sat closed. Kiril’s room.
Both anxious and nervous, Shara hurried to the doors and opened them. She stood there gazing at the enormous room. It was almost Spartan in appearance. The king-sized bed was set off to the right with a perfect view through the large window to the back gardens. Shara moved to the bed and ran her hand over the black comforter, imagining what Kiril would look like in his bed.
The mental picture flashed of him naked, his chiseled muscles shifting in the moonlight. His shamrock-green eyes focused on her, his wheat-colored hair in disarray.
Shara jerked her gaze away from the bed and swallowed as she tried to get her body under control. Kiril was dangerous—dangerous to her body and her mind. It was something her family could never know.
She walked away from the bed and looked around. The walls were painted a soft cream with the baseboards and crown molding a rich, dark chocolate wood. The colors were soothing and complemented the wood floors. Once more the few pictures on the walls were all of landscapes.
There was a small Chesterfield couch in black leather off to the side in front of the fireplace. The table by the bed, and one near the couch were the only other pieces in the room. Shara did a complete circle where she stood, looking for anything she might have missed. And found a sword in the corner leaning against a wall.
She knelt in front of the double-edged broadsword. Her fingers glided over the two-handed hilt wrapped in leather. It almost seemed like any other sword until she spotted the top of it. The pommel was a dragon’s head with ruby eyes that looked toward the ceiling.
The blade was clean and sharp with nothing marring the steel until she reached the top where she spotted Celtic knotwork and some language she didn’t recognize.
“Dragonnish,” she whispered.
She had never heard of the dragons putting their language into a written form, but she wasn’t surprised. The words flowed elegantly, with a flourish that bespoke an ancient race and a plethora of wisdom.
Shara wanted to know what the writing said and the meaning of it to Kiril. There wasn’t anything in the house that remotely looked like a dragon except for the sword. The sword was left in plain sight. So obvious most people would have glanced right over it and not thought twice about it. But she had been searching for something that was his.
He resided in the home, slept in the bed, ate at the kitchen table, and dressed in the clothes that hung in his closet, but the only thing that was Kiril was the sword.
*
Kiril looked at his watch as midnight struck. He had flirted with women at all three pubs he visited, and made sure to show his face at an Doras where Farrell was once again in attendance.
But he couldn’t find Shara anywhere.
Kiril had held onto the chance that he might run into the Dark Fae again, but no matter where he looked, she was nowhere to be found. It was almost as if she was hiding from him.