7. Charity Case #3
“He is so restrained in public,” Maren continues. She lowers her voice until the surrounding guests can no longer follow the conversation. “But you know how krakens are. Once you get them into deep water, they become insatiable.”
Heat climbs into my face despite every effort to control it. I clench my teeth rather than answer and give her more ammunition.
She catches enough of my reaction to continue. “I spent three centuries teaching him how to temper his strength.”
The number cuts through everything else she has said. She’s had hundreds of years with Sigurd. I’ve spent only a handful of days beside him, and our contract lasts for one weekend.
“I’m sure you have many fond memories,” I reply. “But that relationship is in the past.”
Maren tilts her head and studies me. “Do you truly believe that makes the history irrelevant? Sigurd is ancient, Valerie. His biology requires a partner who can withstand the crushing pressure of his world.”
My thumb presses against the glass, and the ice shifts inside with a hollow clink. I hear the sound clearly beneath the noise of the banquet hall.
“Solveig isn’t wrong,” Maren continues in the same pleasant tone. “Humans and monsters aren’t always a match. It isn’t always about heart.”
She throws my own dinner-table argument straight back at me. I still believe what I told Solveig, and Maren’s confidence does not make her right. But the differences between Sigurd and me are real. And not just because of his body.
I’m a librarian from a small coastal town. Sigurd is a monster billionaire. We can’t ever share anything past this lone weekend.
Her eyes flick toward my hand before returning to my face. The satisfaction there tells me she has been waiting for this moment.
“I only hope he doesn’t accidentally break you when he finally loses control.”
The fantasy I built on the dance floor shatters beneath the words. A few minutes ago, I was thinking about Sigurd holding me because he wanted to. Now every intimate implication Maren has planted has attached itself to the memory.
She knows the Sigurd who exists beyond public restraint. I know the role I agreed to play because Saltweather needed me here. Whatever happened on the dance floor does not erase the reason I came.
I am his fake date, a temporary shield between Sigurd and the future his mother has chosen for him. His touch may have felt real tonight, but my place beside him is still temporary.
My fingers slip slightly against the tumbler before I catch it. I refuse to let Maren watch me fall apart.
The scent of deep-sea brine cuts through her perfume a moment later. Maren looks past me, and the satisfaction leaves her face before I turn.
Sigurd cuts through the room, his broad frame parting the mingling guests without hesitation. He stops beside the table with his eyes fixed on me. The marks visible above his collar flare brighter than they did when he left.
“Sigurd.” Maren touches the neckline of her silver gown and recovers quickly. “I was just congratulating your date on surviving the climb. If you’ll excuse me, the southern delegates are waiting.”
She glides away before he answers. Sigurd watches her disappear into the crowd. As soon as she’s gone, he turns toward me. “What did she say to you?” His low voice carries beneath the surrounding conversation. “If she insulted you, I will have her removed from the hall. Rakan will listen to me.”
Five minutes ago, I wanted nothing more than to step into his arms. I wanted his immense presence around me so I could forget that any of this was supposed to be fake. Now the phrase charity case circles through my thoughts.
His protectiveness suddenly feels different. Maybe I let myself believe the dance meant more because I wanted it to. Maybe Sigurd sees me as another problem he can solve. It doesn’t really matter.
“She was fine, Sigurd.” I set the glass down and wipe my damp palm against the side of my dress. “We were just making small talk about the wedding.”
The defensive edge in my voice brings a crease between his brows. He takes a half step closer and studies me with growing concern.
“Valerie, your hands are trembling.”
He reaches toward my bare arm. I jerk away before his fingers can brush my skin, and the movement stops him immediately. His hand hangs between us for a moment before he lowers it.
The brightness in his eyes dims. The sight sends a painful pull through my chest, but I force myself to hold his gaze.
“I’m just tired, Sigurd. The altitude is catching up with me, and I think I’m going to head back to get some rest.”
Sigurd studies me long enough to make it clear he doesn’t believe the excuse. I reach for my evening bag before he can press me for an answer I’m not ready to give.
“I’ll see you in the suite,” I add. “You should stay for Rakan and Iris.”
His jaw sets, but he gives me a small nod. “All right, I’ll see you soon.”
I turn before my resolve can weaken and make my way through the crowd. By the time I reach the exit, I can no longer remember the dance without hearing Maren’s words.