“You look stunning,” Camden offers.
I don’t return the compliment, though he looks incredibly appealing in a charcoal-gray suit that perfectly molds to his body, managing to look elegant while drawing attention to his muscular frame. At the neck of his white shirt is a silk blue knot, matching the color of his eyes.
I take a seat next to Camden, lean back in the chair, and gaze at him steadily. He stares back at me, eyes running all over my face.
Softly, he says, “Let’s begin.”
I turn my attention to Leisel. “What looks good?”
She looks at each dish laid out in front of us, brows furrowed, probably because she’s unfamiliar with almost all of them. As she points to several different plates and bowls, I load measured portionsof food onto her plate for her. By the time I’m done, it’s practically overflowing. I know Leisel probably won’t finish even a third of the food in front of her, but I can see the interest shining in her eyes as she looks over her selections.
Only once I’ve made sure she is satisfied with the contents of her plate do I load my own as an afterthought, barely paying it any attention. I feel Camden’s gaze on me as I move, staring at me as though my very existence enthralls him. As soon as I’ve finished serving myself, Camden picks up his silverware and cuts into a piece of grilled meat to begin the meal.
Seeing Leisel look at her plate with trepidation, probably overwhelmed at so many options, I encourage, “Go ahead, sweet girl.”
She picks up her fork and knife, gingerly cutting into her food. As soon as she puts the first bite in her mouth, her eyes widen, and she begins tucking into her choices with a renewed vigor, seeming to love each new thing she tries.
I likewise begin eating, nearly groaning as flavor bursts on my tongue. The spices seasoning each dish are exotic and delectable. Every bite I take is delicious, and I can almost feel myself regaining the strength I lost in the last two days while I was sleeping. I only had a bowl of soup when I woke up, feeling too queasy from my long sleep for more, but now I’m practically ravenous.
Camden pours red wine into my wineglass. “Try it. It goes well with the meat.”
Though my initial urge is to ignore his suggestion merely to be contrary, my curiosity gets the better of me. I reach for the wineglass, bringing it to my nose and inhaling notes of dark cherry and spice, before taking a small sip. As much as I dislike the fact, Camden’s right; it goes excellently with the food. It’s the best wine I’ve ever tasted—oaky, earthy, and spiced, neither too dry nor too rich. Of course, the onlywine I’ve had before was the cheap kind I could afford in Aesara’s market.
“Good?” Camden asks.
I begrudgingly incline my head before returning to my meal. A tense silence descends on the four of us as we eat. I can tell Camden wants to speak, evidenced by his body language, but for some reason he refrains, opting for openly watching me. Wyatt vacillates between taking peeks at Leisel and focusing on his food.
After several moments, Wyatt addresses Leisel. “My brother told me you were asking about our library. Is that so?
Leisel glances at me for direction. I briefly fight an inner war, wondering if I should discourage her from speaking with Wyatt or encourage her. On one hand, I dislike Wyatt on principle; both because he’s a mythic and because my protective instincts towards Leisel innately demand that I have disdain for any of her suitors. Though I believe Camden was being honest when he said any affection Wyatt has for Leisel is currently brotherly or paternal, that of a protector and supporter, it’ll change to romantic in just a few short years, and that doesn’t sit well with me.
On the other hand, if Leisel and I are to stay here—build a life here—Leisel will need more than just me guiding her since I know little of this world. She needs someone more versed in mythics who will answer her questions, work in her best interest, and above all, protect her. I believe Wyatt would do any and all of those things.
I incline my head with approval, smiling at her, silently wondering how I’m going to keep myself sane in this new life we’ve been thrust into.
Leisel turns back to Wyatt, and says, “Yes.”
Wyatt gives her an easy smile, taking a sip of his drink. I can sense an undercurrent of pleasure from him; pleasure that she’s finally speaking to him.
“I’d be happy to show you once we’re done,” he tells her, before locking eyes with me. “You’re welcome to accompany us as well.”
I blink. “Was there ever any question that I’d be chaperoning?”
Surprising me, Wyatt laughs. I expected him to be irritated with my intervention—as he’s seemed so far when I’ve interfered in his dialogue with Leisel—instead, he seems to accept it easily. Maybe giving him some leewayisin my best interest. After all, if I’m to make any substantial changes, I’ll need both the Alpha and Beta behind me. Camden’s support will likely hinge on my acceptance of him, on how many proverbial bones I’m capable of throwing him. Wyatt, on the other hand, will be a bit trickier, especially since I haven’t made my distaste for him a secret.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a brief flash of movement come from nowhere that makes me stiffen. Then, abruptly, a newcomer comes into view at the end of the dining room table, appearing out of nowhere. He’s tall, though not as tall as Camden and Wyatt. His body is heavily muscled. His skin is fair to the point of paleness. And his eyes...fuck me, his eyes are blood red.
From what I’ve read, I know I’m facing a vampire—only they have red irises. And this one somehow managed to teleport into the castle and is taking the measure of everyone seated at the table, malice practically radiating from him.
Camden and Wyatt leap to their feet immediately. I stand, too, ready to jump into action to make sure Leisel’s safe. I grasp her wrist with my hand, pulling her from her seat and drawing her to me.
“Stop right there,” Camden commands, voice resounding with authority as he stares at the newcomer. His face hardens as he looks over the vampire with lethal intent. “Kyron,” he practically spits out.
The vampire’s gaze settles on Camden. “Alpha,” he says mockingly, making the word sound like a curse. “How’s Daddy dearest? Has he gotten over the loss of his mate yet?”
Two things click in my mind. First, Camden and Kyron obviously have history. Second, that history may consist of Kyron having something to do with the death of Camden’s mother—something I suspect from the mocking way he asked after her.
Camden’s nails lengthen into sharp, lethal-looking claws. “He’ll be far better now that her death will be avenged.”
