Adriana quickly wiped a stray tear away with the back of her hand. He knew she wasn’t used to confessing her feelings, and Xander certainly wasn’t used to confessing his either. Saying it out loud, confirming it, made it all feel so real and terrifying.
“Well,” she said with a familiar mischievous glint in her eye. “If you truly feel that way you can do something for me as a resolution for the new year. Court me properly. I want publicoutings together, and for you to win over my father. Oh, and you must give me flowers at least once a week.”
“Once a week? So demanding,” he teased. “You have a deal.”
A beaming smile stretched across her lips as they continued to dance amongst the other couples, softly swaying to the melodic music that was slowly coming to a close.
Xander noticed two elderly men by the bar eyeing them before their attention shifted to Deion and Edward who sat at the table whispering to one another. He tilted his head as his ears picked up their hushed conversation, expecting to hear the usual closed-minded gossip about his friends. To his surprise, they were discussing their suspicions of the newest inhabitants of Divina’s old manor, suspicions of blood-thirsty and shape-shifting monsters.
“I did not suspect the stories we fabricated so long ago would last this long,” Xander said, as he nodded in the direction of the old men. “What were once deterrents to stay away from our settlements have changed to become well known fearsome folk stories. It has probably made it more challenging to stay hidden nowadays.”
“I am fairly certain most of the townspeople have their own speculations of your family, as well as mine,” Adriana sighed. “So, tell me, what other terrifying stories are based on my big bad Lamia?”
“Quite a few, I am sure,” he said, trying to hide his pride from the way she had called him hers. “My favourite is one the locals spoke of in our last home in Whitby. Thomas often visited us there, a local fisherman even caught sight of him in his wolf form once.”
“Perhaps it will make a wonderful written tale one day, like Striga’s stories. I can see it now, the tale of Lord Duran and his sinful seduction and bloodthirsty tendencies.”
“Sinful seduction?” Xander questioned, with a raised eyebrow. “I quite like the sound of that. Though I was not known as a Lord back then. Before we had arrived in our last home we had spent a few years in Europe where I posed as what you would know here as an Earl.”
“Earl Duran,” Adriana muttered, as if testing the taste of the words on her tongue. “Hmm, I am not so sure that title suits you.”
Chapter thirteen
The Lake
Xander
It had been a full year since Xander had first tasted Adriana’s blood, since they had finally connected, body and soul. He had not fed from anyone else since that night, he only drank from her when she offered. Occasionally he’d had to decline her offer, knowing her body would not have recovered from their last time. But despite how often they shared their nights together, Xander knew he would never have enough of her.
At first, Adriana’s father was under the assumption their spending so much time together was to continue her training. But of course he had caught on after seeing Adriana sneaking out of the house on new year’s eve and their staff had begun to gossip by that point. So, much to Lord Clarke’s delight, they decided to make it known to everyone that Xander was courtingher at the start of the new year. That way they didn’t have to hide their relationship, and neither of them would have to worry about other gentlemen making calls to the house any longer. They would stroll through the town as a couple, join Deion and Edward on trips with their children, and Xander even accompanied her father to the tavern on one occasion. The last six months had been absolute bliss.
Xander had presumed that the most nerve-racking moment in their relationship would have been when he finally worked up the courage to tell her his feelings, or when they had made it public knowledge they were courting. But it was nothing compared to the stress he felt now, standing in the evening summer breeze in front of Sebastian Clarke’s carriage before he left on another business trip. Xander hadn’t taken the time to learn what business specifically he was involved in, and now he felt foolish for not finding some common ground to spark a conversation. Instead, he had merely walked up to the man, and stated his intentions. He wanted to marry Adriana, and he wanted his permission.
In truth, Xander had never cared for traditional customs of courting or blessings, and he certainly did not ever think he would feel desperate to seek approval. And yet he could not fight the urge to win the man’s affections. He knew Sebastian thought highly of him, he didn’t need to be able to read his mind for that, it was obvious in the way he continued to express his joy at Adriana being courted by a wealthy Lord. And Xander had a suspicion Striga had sung his praises on more than one occasion to win her father over. But still, he was nervous, and he hated it.
“You wish to marry my daughter?”
“Yes, Lord Clarke, I do. I will treat her with the most honourable respect, and continue to give her the freedom and protection to progress her gifts. I will love her until the day—”
“You do realise she does not have a dowry? Not since the laws have changed.”
Xander furrowed his brow at the interruption to his speech, a speech he had spent hours running over with Edward to make sure it was perfect.
“With respect, I was under no assumption that I would receive anything, nor do I want anything. Just your blessing.”
Sebastian said nothing as he eyed Xander. He knew he was a Lamia, even if he did not speak of it, he knew exactly what he was. And although Sebastian Clarke was a rare man who was not only aware but accepting of Daemons, his worry was unmistakable as his fears screamed inside his head.
He was scared of Xander, and he was scared for his daughter.
“I would never wish to harm her,” Xander said, answering his unspoken worries. “I hope you understand that. I love her, and I would rather die than hurt her.”
The man smiled as he brought Xander into an awkward, one-armed hug. “You have my permission, lad.” Suddenly, the hand on Xander’s shoulder tightened, so much so that it would have been painful to a mortal. “Only know this, that you would have to strike me down before harming a single hair on my daughter’s head. And I promise, I would not make it easy on you.”
Xander's eyes widened as Lord Clarke stepped away and climbed into his carriage, giving him a tip of his hat as the horses started to trot away. He noticed the side-eyed look from Jonathon who was driving the carriage, and gave him a satisfied smirk in return.
“I dare say that went rather well,” a voice called out.
Xander turned to face the nosy old woman teetering nearby. “Eavesdropping again, are we, Striga? I was just about to speak with you.”
