From the kitchen, Cedric appears quite shocked at her reaction, while my brother stands motionless, unable to process such an outburst from a woman. I try not to laugh. I try very hard. And I succeed.
“Cait, he’s the king. Did you expect his gifts to be mundane trinkets?”
“Don’t go there, Theo. I don’t give a…” She takes a deep breath, managing to mind her language given our company. “I don’t care who he is or who he thinks he is. He may damn well think he’s a god himself and walks on water, but if he honestly cared about me, I’d think he would give me a gift that meant something, not just showed how much money he has to throw around.”
She’s beyond furious, but I find it necessary to diffuse the situation, despite my own amusement at how well the boy further distances himself from the object of his affection without any effort whatsoever. “What would you suggest he give you, Cait? In all fairness, he can afford to give you anything, and he gave you something quite exquisite.”
Unrelenting in her anger, we’re once again in a stare down. “How much money do you have, Theo?” Dropping the question in such a casual manner, she surprises me.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I counter her inquisition, wary of where this is leading and all too cognizant that we are not alone.
“Just answer the question.”
“Quite more than I could ever spend. Many of those I’ve protected have had significant wealth and were gracious in gifting me with things of precious value.”
She huffs a small, sardonic laugh, and I can imagine what Cait must think. We may spend our existences wandering the earth doing the duty of protecting our wards, but she is not so foolish as to believe beings survive eternally and do not amass significant wealth. I cannot explain that not all wards have power or money when we come to them. At times, their care requires things they are unable to provide to us to succeed in the task, more so as the world has changed.
“And you love me… truly love me? You would die for me if you had to, right?” Her expression is harsh and serious, making a point, not attempting to draw out some romantic declaration from me in front of Cedric, though he will miss nothing said.
Dropping my voice low, I answer in honesty the words meant for her, regardless of the others hearing them. “Yes, Cait, I do, and I would without the slightest hesitation.”
“Then tell me, Theo. Since you could also afford to give me anything, would you give me this,” she asks, tossing the box at me, “to show what I mean to you?”
Opening it, I see the ostentatious display of wealth: platinum and diamonds meant to encircle Cait’s neck. “No. I would not.” With a regretful sigh, I snap the box closed and walk over to Cedric. “I made it clear to Oliver that I do not accept disingenuous efforts made to win Cait’s heart. Take this back to your son, and inform him that if he wishes to prove he can love her—that he does love her—perhaps he should attempt to spend time familiarizing himself with her rather than feeding on her or trying to kill her.”
He takes the blue Tiffany’s box from me without a word, rightfully ashamed as a father, and Clifford breaks the silent tension in the room. “There is a note.”
Turning back, I see him remove it from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, reminding me of one additional reason I’m thankful I’m no longer in the service of the king, and he ensures to brush his fingertips along her hand discreetly as she takes it from him. A quiet, yet sharp inhale accompanies the contact, his eyes quick in rising to find mine. He steps back, swallowing hard, nervous, a fleeting expression of fear crossing his face.
Cait opens the handwritten note card and walks away toward the glass wall. Turmoil rolls off her in waves, but nothing in her body language invites me to join her, as desperately as I wish to.
“She brings conflict.”
“It is not my ward who brings conflict, brother.” Defensive of her, I clarify the matter. “Her path is a catalyst, her destiny a great change. With all change comes conflict, but she means for none of it and will likely not appreciate feeling she has caused any of it.”
“No. I can see that. Oliver has said nothing to me, or to Liam, either. He knows, doesn’t he?”
The unwilling bearer of such news, I nod. “He has not touched her, has not seen the vision for himself, yet he is not unaware. The choice before him is the most difficult to make.”
“But he should have told us. It is our decision to meet her, to see for ourselves, to see where our own paths lie.” My brother casts a brief glance toward Cait. “And I am not long for the service of the king it seems.” He pauses, staring at the floor. “Do you see specific houses joining?”
“Besides Pendragon, Claaron joins thus far from Graywyne, and I believe he will remain, though he has not said as much.” Waiting a moment, Clifford forces anxious eye contact, the anticipation evident in his features. “And I foresee brothers of Faerwyng as well. Why do you ask?”
“Jaiteru called. His ward passed, and he intends to stay for an extended visit. I believe he should wish to meet Lady Hayden when he arrives.”
“Of course. But you will both learn she detests formality, preferring to be called Cait.” Looking to see her mind remains occupied, I walk him toward the door. “Call Agtos, and inform him of what you feel. I will tell Cait to expect you to join us in time.”
“Soon, brother.… Perhaps by day’s end. What of a reply to the king?”
“Cedric can deliver whatever she has to say. I doubt the message will be all too welcome, and not one you wish to deliver.”
Once he leaves, I return to the kitchen, disappointed to find Cait picked at her food, eating nothing at all, with Cedric anxiously eyeing her across the apartment. “I cannot fathom what Corrin could have said to her, Theo. This reaction is far removed from the necklace.”
Clearing away her dishes, avoiding the twinge of jealousy rising within me, I try to show no outward indication of concern for the truth in his words. “Human females are confounding creatures, quite bewildering more often than not, Cedric. Cait is a conundrum wrapped in an enigma regarding the oddities of reactions garnered by various things she encounters. Do not ask me to explain her.”
“She is quite fascinating.” Damned be the number of males who find her so. “Corrin will not relent in his pursuit once he learns what she is becoming.” Removing his focus from her, he turns his attention to me. “I did not expect to be witness to it, though I suppose we all knew the Goddess had chosen one. How could anyone predict the who, the when, or the where? Even the purpose eludes all but the few of you aware of Lady Hayden’s destiny.”
I say nothing, watching as he runs a hand through his reddish hair, his blue-green eyes downcast, the ancient Celt showing the wear of his forty-some human years with the weight of great responsibility burdening him. “All your brothers will be lost to us, I fear. You, and now Clifford.” He gestures to the door. “I gather it is a matter of time before Liam follows, and Oliver’s distress over the situation…” Covering his face with his hands for a moment, he shakes his head then rests his palms on the counter behind him. “What more can he possibly do for my son that he has not already, Theo? Will all be lost? What of Corrin? How do I reassure Evan of his brother’s future?”
“It is not for me to say, Cedric. The Goddess lays out her plans as she sees fit. We can only serve as required.” Taking a bottle of water from the refrigerator, dehydrated by the earlier events of the morning, I finish it before further discussing the matter. “I am not a father, and cannot advise you. The death of any brother of mine is painful but not permanent. Wards die, but under my watch, it has always been their destiny and not given me a sense of loss to carry for any significant period of time.”
Without doubt, to hear me say such a thing would leave Cait believing me callous, though, in truth, I fear her death. Should anything happen before the change completes within her, the loss would be unbearable for me. I do not know if I could perform my duties in the wake of it and am unsure where I would g
o from there.
“Theo.” Cait’s voice sounds of things I do not like; guilt, worry, pain. Things I do not want her to feel toward the king.
*Cait*
I hold the small cream-colored envelope, running a finger over the green wax seal with an unfamiliar emblem pressed into it: a dragon sitting atop a crown. “Theo, do you recognize this?” I ask, holding it up as soon as he’s close.
He takes a quick glance, definitely more worried about me than the envelope. “That’s Corrin’s seal for personal correspondence. Green signifies the House of Pendragon, the dragon his protector Oliver, and the crown Corrin. The signet ring was a gift from Agtos upon his coronation, but Corrin never liked it for use regarding him as the king. He considers his relationship with Oliver a personal matter, not a sovereign one, and he’s quite correct. Oliver is as personally bound to Corrin as I am to you, though their relationship is far different in certain aspects.”
Yeah, I’ll take a wild guess Oliver and Corrin never… ah, showered together. “So, you’re basically saying this just means it’s a personal note from Corrin?”
Theo nods. “Of course, rather than an official message from the king. Why?”
I shake my head, not wanting to answer. He’s told me everything I needed to know but didn’t want to; it’s the icing on my big fat guilt cake. Opening the card with Corrin’s neatly penned note, I read it again.
Dearest Cait,
If I may, I offer my sincerest apologies for my actions last night. Please accept this gift as a small token of my remorse and proof my affections are indeed genuine. Never before has a woman stirred such emotions within me, causing reactions I do not intend and overreactions, to my regretful admittance.
Should you allow me the opportunity, I wish to tell you in person how willingly I make every effort to change. Cait, you give me countless reasons to want to be a better person, the first of which is simply earning your love, a more desired and beautiful gift than I realized until now, but a night reflecting upon my mistakes has given greater perspective.
The Goddess found reason to see me marry and brought you into my life. I believe this more than mere coincidence.
Yours,
Corrin
“May I ask what it says?”
As much as I hate to say it to him, I look up to meet Theo’s beautiful green eyes, so full of love, and shake my head. “No. I’m sorry.” Walking across the living room to find Cedric again, I leave my dragon behind.
“Are you alright, milady?”
“You can call me Cait, Cedric. It’s okay.” He smiles warmly, and I try to do the same back, unsure if I’m successful. “Please return the necklace to Corrin, but tell him it just isn’t me, not that I don’t appreciate the idea of what he’s trying to accomplish. Let him know the roses are beautiful, and I loved the note. I will see him again, but this time, not in public. No more stunts. And warn him that I don’t actually have limitless patience, no matter what he seems to think.”
The vampire gives a soft chuckle. “I will pass your message along. Will you attend the charity gala tonight?”
I smack my forehead, blowing out a deep breath. “I completely forgot about it.… Yes. I suppose so. Uncle Thomas and I always did. You know, he was quite a philanthropist, donating a great deal of money to the Gilroy Children’s House Fund, and he would want me to continue.”
“Would you consider allowing Corrin to escort you?”
“No,” I reply flatly. “Too public.”
“Perhaps you will save him a dance?” He’s a bit too hopeful, but also sweet and endearing, trying to be a good father in the worst of circumstances.
Still, I imagine at least a dozen ways this could go wrong and sigh. “Perhaps.”
After a short conversation with Theo about some logistics involving the gala, Cedric leaves, and I lean back against the breakfast bar, amazed it can still be so early in the day after everything that’s already happened.
Without a word, Theo steps directly in front of me, eyes a blazing marbled emerald “Do you wish to know what I would give you? What gift I believe could represent a fraction of what you mean to me?” His intensity leaves me speechless, and I simply nod. He reaches up to remove a necklace I noticed he wears, one I have yet to see him without: a silver dragon’s claw holding a green crystal ball matching his eyes, hanging on a black leather cord.
“I would give you this. All six Houses of the Dracopraesi have them. Only the sixty-six of us belonging to the House of Pendragon have this particular green crystal, the crystal coloration unique to each house’s brotherhood.” He places it around my bare neck, gently arranging my hair back in place. “It is quite old, and more precious to me than any other material possession I have ever owned or any I imagine I will. This symbolizes who I am, where I am from, my history, who I consider my family, and everything about me, Cait. A dragon does not allow someone to wear their crystal unless they are as dear as our own kindred brothers.”
My fingers touch the claw and crystal where it falls along the v-neck of my cashmere sweater, and I take a deep breath. “Point well made, Theo. See, Corrin could take lessons from you on what kind of gift a woman would truly appreciate. Did you want this back now?” I start taking it off, but he grasps my hands.
“No. Cait, I would never put it on someone else just for show. I do mean it as a gift, as you said, to show you what you mean to me.” The way he’s moved to take hold of my hands, his body is right against mine, and he’s looking down at me as he speaks, face hovering above mine as I tilt my head to meet his intense green eyes. “To remind you how deeply I love you, Cait.”
Despite newfound reservations, worries of jumping to decisions too fast, I close my eyes, giving in as he leans down. His lips are soft, hot, sensuous, and wonderful, and his kiss delicate, sweet, chaste, and loving. I don’t want to open my eyes and lose the moment; I can feel him hovering, nearly touching, barely keeping those lips from meeting mine again. “Cait.” His voice is gentle, a breathy whisper. “You’re holding something back.”
I shudder, eyes still closed, refusing to admit I am; that Corrin’s note is on my mind, that Dante’s words as he gifted me with his protection are ringing in my ears, not wanting those things to matter. I push up on my toes to close the nonexistent distance between us, grabbing him by the shoulders. He gives further this time, lips parting a fraction, hot breath intermingling with mine, hands on my back, holding me as close as I want. Too quickly, he’s pulling back again. “Cait, I feel pieces of you slipping away.”
No. I refuse to let it be true, and my hands are off his shoulders and in his hair, pulling him back to me, and he’s responding, deeper, more passionate, gentle yet fierce, loving yet consuming. Breaking his lips away, he doesn’t let go, burying his face in my hair, his mouth by my ear. “Cait, I do love you. I want you in any and every way in which you would give yourself to me, but for now, I cannot do this, Cait.”
Theo kisses my ear, my jaw, my cheek, my lips once more. “Know I love you, Cait. Know I do want you, Cait, and for now, let it be enough that I am waiting for you, and will not leave you. But you must make a decision on your own. I fear my influence conflicts with your free will in this choice.” Nodding, I let him go, allowing him to back away and go finish cleaning up in the kitchen.
In a blinding light, electricity sizzling in the air, Dante appears in the living room. “Caitriona, my lovely, how are you this morning?” He’s positively chipper in his mood and looking stylishly handsome as always, approaching me with arms outstretched, taking my face in his hands, planting a tender kiss on my cheek, pulling away to meet my eyes in such slow motion it’s nearly comical.
Until I realize he must smell Theo on me.
“Dante, I…” I have no idea what to say.
He frowns slightly and moves his head in the most minute negative response, as if in shock. “No need to apologize. I shall make no judgments upon such an indiscretion with Theo,” the demigod offers in a small, soft voice, still holdi
ng my face in his gentle grasp. “Dragons and wards, particularly with females, can become quite close, even intimate, and you are not yet married. The Dracopraesi are Goddess worshippers and respectful of women, not heinous beasts.”
Leaning into me again, he inhales deeply, kissing my cheek once more, keeping his lips against my skin. “Caitriona, you smell so…” His fingers make their way into my hair as he moves closer. “You smell positively divine.” Lips finding mine, Dante assaults my mouth with a fierce passion, emitting a small moan of desire, and I hear a plate drop to the floor in the kitchen behind us.
Wearing a dazed expression, Dante pulls back, remaining mere inches from me. “Theo.” He glances over my shoulder, eyes dancing, vivid and shining, excitement gleaming in them. “It’s her.” He smiles, wide and bright. “Now I see.” Returning his eyes to me, his smile widens, if at all possible. “Oh, Caitriona, this is fantastic. Our life together… love eternal, children, a family. It is all ours to be had.”
“Children?” I am floored, stunned speechless by the thought.
“Yes!”
“We could have a family?”
“With Dante as your husband, you would be safe, loved, and have a family if you so desired, Cait.” Theo reiterates my potential future with Dante, no emotion evident in his tone. “He can give you everything and requires you make no sacrifice in return.” Saying that, my dragon walks away to his office, and I have much more to think about than I did when I woke up this morning.
Chapter 12
*Theo*
“No. You’re quite right. He would not have appreciated that at all. But could you not have convinced her to accept the necklace with some measure of polite civility? She was most certainly not raised a heathen and should have far better manners, the equivalent propriety of a fair-born given the high society in which she was brought up.”
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