Chapter 4 #3
“You are a menace,” Soren growled.
I batted my eyes at him. “Aww. Does that mean you don’t want to be the one to marry me, Lord Soren?”
Moira hid her smile behind her wine glass. Soren stilled.
Caelan snorted. “Told you she’d find out.”
“Can it, Caelan.” Soren eyed the centerpiece warily. “Is it safe to sit?”
“Try it and find out,” I said sweetly.
“Don’t be a baby,” Caelan chided. “This one isn’t poisonous, either.”
“Maybe it’s slow acting,” Moira said and grinned.
Moira was a menace, too.
The dinner went on and on, and people approached our table before the main course, an exorbitant number of women making up the majority of visitors.
All of them gave me a once-over and dismissed me immediately.
Honestly? It was kind of nice. Never had I felt less pressure to be something I was not. And let’s face it. No one here gave a shit about charity. They were here at the Shifter Lord’s behest to get face time and because Caelan was single once more.
Once the umpteenth female visitor left after simpering for an appropriate amount of time, I squirmed in my seat. I had to pee, and I wanted to leave. Not necessarily in that order.
“Jealous, flower girl?”
The heat of my scoff took even me by surprise. “Hardly. If this is the field you’re playing, you should have married Gianna.”
Caelan barked a laugh. “She did have more bite than everyone so far.”
Soren finally took his seat, though he didn’t scoot his chair all the way in.
“Relax, Lord. She’ll play nice if you do.”
He sent me an incredulous look. “She? You know it’s a girl?”
“Of course. You don’t think a male plant is this angry, do you?”
Moira smiled into her wine. “Gods. I love hanging out with you, Evie. Especially when it has to do with the Lords.”
“Your friend should take care with the way she treats her betters,” Soren said.
Everyone froze. A punch of power rocked the room, blazing against my skin like the sun. Caelan’s eyes went pure gold.
“Oh shit,” Moira breathed. “You done stepped in it now.”
I rarely touched Caelan of my own volition, but this time I lay a gentle hand across his thigh, where none of the curious guests—most of whom were looking our way—could see. “Caelan. I’ll handle this.”
A warm, calloused hand came over mine, Caelan’s magic soaking into my skin. His muscles weren’t as tense as they were a moment before, but his eyes still blazed gold.
I kept my voice low and steady, even though fury blazed through my blood. “I know why you want me to bow to the Lord’s will.”
Soren’s eyes blazed, Moira an uncomfortable barrier between us.
I let a sardonic smile curve my lips. “You and your other Lords are afraid of what I might do. I am a threat to your power base. Little old me with my man-eating vines.” I coaxed those vines closer to Soren. They grew along the table and curled around his dinner plate.
Soren snorted, but I didn’t miss the hard swallow of his throat. “You’re awful full of yourself for a Floromancer.”
The disgust in his voice sent my hackles up.
Floromancy was a relatively rare magic, and most people dismissed it.
And they were right to, for the most part.
The vast majority of people with my type of magic were content to act as landscapers and gardeners, or they ran shops like mine in smaller towns where their powers were easier to hide.
Caelan’s low chuckle was a caress down my spine.
“Keep telling yourself that I am only a Floromancer, Lord Soren. I hope it helps you sleep at night.”
I turned away from him just as the servers approached with the main course and tried to slide my hand from Caelan’s thigh. He gripped it tightly, keeping it pressed there.
And heaven help me, I let him.
Just as the dinner was winding down, and I was gathering my bag, a woman with cool blonde hair and bright green eyes approached the table. Caelan stiffened, almost imperceptibly. Since my hand was still locked on his thigh, I felt the play of muscle.
“Lord,” the woman said, her voice low and cultured. Her eyes swept over the table and snagged on me, a slight curl of distaste on her lip.
“Hello, Nadia.”
She tilted her head. “I wonder if you have a moment where I might speak with you in private.”
Caelan’s brow furrowed. “You may speak freely at this table.”
“Caelan,” Soren warned.
“They are both aware of many of the goings-on at my Keep, Lord Soren.”
Nadia flicked her gaze at me once more, her eyes lingering longer this time.
“I’m aware your engagement to my cousin is broken, but we have not seen her since that night.”
I froze, careful to keep my expression blank. We were swimming in dangerous waters now. Carefully extricating my hand from under Caelan’s, I pushed my plate away and started to rise. “This seems like a private family matter.”
“Stay, Evie. I’d like to speak to you afterward.”
The look in Caelan’s eyes made me pause. I gave him a short nod and turned to Moira who was watching me carefully.
“Gianna packed a small bag and fled the Keep not long after the Bonding ceremony. I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen her since. I can send out a few scouts to retrace her whereabouts if it will help.”
Nadia inclined her head. “That would be most appreciated, Lord. As you can imagine, my uncle is fraught with worry. We all are.”
Caelan studied her. “It’s been months, Nadia. Why has no one contacted the Keep?”
“Her father received a letter from Gianna a few weeks after her departure from the Keep, or so we thought it was, claiming she needed some time to regroup before she came home. We’ve been unable to trace her cell phone, and all her accounts have no spending activity.”
Caelan’s jaw tightened. “Please leave your contact information with my Omega, Simone. I’ll send scouts out tonight and contact you as soon as I hear anything.”
“You are most gracious, Lord,” Nadia said. She inclined her head once more and turned to go.
“I’m happy to send Riker out,” Soren said quietly. “It’s unusual for someone like Gianna to stay away that long.”
“We’d appreciate having Riker with us. Allow me to brief Simone before you contact him. I know it will take him at least a day to get here.”
“Of course.” Soren rose and carefully folded his napkins. “Ladies,” he said to us, though his eyes lingered on Moira. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, but events with you two are always…interesting.”
Moira gave him a little wave. “See you around, Lord.”
His lips twitched. “I hope you do.”
As soon as he was out of earshot, Moira slumped in her chair. “Gods. No one should have the right to be that hot.”
“He knows it. Minus twenty points.”
Moira laughed. “Yeah. Most of those pretty boys do.” She tossed her napkin on top of her plate. “Your Lord is giving me get-the-hell-out-of-here eyes, so I’ll be waiting in the foyer for you. Don’t take too long. I’m tired and want to kick these heels off.”
Caelan’s eyes glittered. “Find someone and ask her to show you to the library. You can kick your heels off there. It’s empty right now.”
Moira’s face lit up. “You are a god among men, Lord Caelan, and my sore little piggies thank you.” She winked at me and rose, hurrying over to find the Omega.
“There’s a fix to this,” Caelan murmured as the rest of the guests filed out. A few beelined straight for him, but when they saw his still glowing eyes, they thought better of it and made an abrupt turn toward the door.
“Me building a fortress and warding it against Lords?” I grumbled.
His teeth flashed. “It wouldn’t keep me out.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Mmm. Maybe I would. But no, that’s not the answer.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’m tired and against my better judgment, I’ll bite. Tell me the fix, oh wise one.”
His golden gaze flicked to my lips. “I adore your smart mouth.”
“Focus, Caelan.”
He grinned. “You said my name.”
“Don’t make me regret it. Now spit it out.”
“So feisty, Evangeline.”
“And stop calling me that,” I snapped.
The smile fell from his face. “You could marry me.”
The bottom dropped out of my world. I stared at him for a long moment, my thoughts stretching like taffy. “I—um. That’s—um.”
“Your only true choice if you don’t want the lords to hamstring your power.”
My jaw tightened. “Once again, I think the Lords are underestimating both my tenacity and willingness to fuck their world up.”
Caelan’s eyes still glowed a deep, burnished gold. His emotions were high, and his magic was reacting, making my own react to him. The embroidery on my dress shifted, several flowers blooming against the expensive satin.
“Your dress is flowering,” Caelan said in a rumbled voice.
“I can’t marry you,” I breathed. “That would be insanity.”
The room had emptied out and someone had closed the doors, leaving me and the Lord alone.
Caelan reached a calloused finger out and tilted my chin up.
“Am I so terrible, Evie? Hideous to look at? Do I have a terrible personality? No sense of humor. Do you not like the way I dress? The way I speak? What is it about me that so offends you?”
My heart crashed against my ribs. “You don’t love me.”
A flash of teeth. A flicker of silver in that gold. “Says who?” he whispered, moving so close I felt the heat of his words against my lips.
“Says…everyone. Me. I say you don’t.” I was rambling. His words had taken me by surprise. Was he serious? Or baiting me? He was always baiting me, so why would this be any different?
He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Does it matter, flower girl?”
I blinked. “Uh. Yes. It does. Why wouldn’t it?”
His eyes widened a hair. “You’re a romantic. Such a wild and ferocious heart hiding such a soft, squishy middle.”
“You should never use the words soft, squishy middle when speaking to a woman.”
“Mmm. Noted. You’re changing the subject, Evangeline.”
“I swear to the gods. Stop calling me that.” I wanted to pull away but couldn’t make myself. His fingers lingered on my jaw, the touch heating my skin.
“You don’t like your name?”
“My mother calls me that.”
“And you don’t like your mother.” A non-judgmental tone, more curious than anything.
“My mother is a goddess.”
Those five words told Caelan all he needed to know. He nodded. “I do not have many dealings with the gods, but they are known to have fickle hearts. What about your father?”
He might be the king of the fae, but Cernunnos, like all the gods, was being a cagey asshat right now and refused to answer the paternity question. Cernunnos claimed now wasn’t the right time to answer but had conveniently forgotten to mention when that time might be.
“My mother never said much about him.” I shook away the spell that Caelan was casting over me and pulled away from his touch. “It’s time for me to go. I’ve already spent too much time here.”
“Is it so bad to spend time with me?” Caelan dropped his hand.
“You are a Lord. Your future lies before you like a map on a table. The world is your oyster, Caelan. Any woman, any land, anything you want, you could walk in and take it.”
His eyes slowly faded from their burnished gold to the gold-flecked stormy gray I was familiar with.
“I am a small-town florist with a hair-trigger temper when it comes to you.”
His lips twitched.
“We are not meant for each other. I’m a curiosity to you, nothing more.”
“How wrong you are, Evie Quinn.” Caelan sighed and pushed his chair back. “You are much more than you claim to be and so much more than I ever imagined.”
Unsure how to respond, I hiked my purse up and leaned close. Calling up a whisper of magic in my palm, I touched it to his boutonniere, closed my eyes, and poured my power into the flytrap.
When I opened them, Caelan’s intense stare took my breath away. He stared at me like he knew my inner heart. But that was impossible. No one did. “What did you do?”
I stroked a finger over one of the traps and smiled. “Now it’s poisonous.”
With a wink, I turned and headed out of the ballroom, Caelan’s shout of laughter echoing behind me.