My compulsion held strong even for this high fae.
“The greatest guitarist on the east coast!” Lydia shouted from her spot next to the coffee machine. She let out a whoop.
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.
The security guards came up and escorted Tom Selving from the room. The council sat in their large chairs muttering among themselves. I wondered how removing someone like Tom Selving from the council might change the political landscape.
“Thank you, Wickham,” Darcy said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Now, members of the council, should we get down to business?”
As Darcy took over, I pulled Lydia into a side room and tugged her close. “Only the greatest guitarist on the east coast?” I asked.
She gave me a teasing smile. “Well, I didn’t want to overdo my fangirling.”
“I’m a fan ofyou.” I urged her closer and kissed her senseless. The heat of the room wrapped us in a blanket of warmth that neither of us wanted to end.Mmm, she murmured in my head.I like that.
Light cut in through the window in golden, gentle rays that found even the dark corners, like Lydia did to my soul.
“Come, my love,” I said. “I have a hotel reserved for us tonight.”
She gave a slight pout. “I’m never going to stay at your place, am I?”
“You mean our place?”
Her smile lit up and she kissed me one more time. “Our place.”
“Staying at the hotel will give us the most rest. It's a bit of a drive back to Austen Heights. I don’t want to be worn out for my performance tomorrow.”
“You mean my birthday party?”
I gave her a clever smile. “You didn’t think I forgot? I’d never forget something so important to the woman I love.”
Chapter 17
ClubMerytonwaspackedfor Lydia’s birthday. Friend or enemy didn’t matter. Lydia invited everyone she knew—and didn’t know—to come and celebrate her. Because it meant more presents for her, so she told me, and partially because she was, well, Lydia.
The Grey Doors were deep into our set, the music weaving through the club like a living thing—rich, pulsing, and warm. On stage, lights shimmered in blues and golds, casting soft glows over the crowd. Tiny sprites flitted through the beams, their gossamer wings catching the colors and scattering them like glittering confetti.
The dance floor swayed with movement, laughter, and the occasional burst of stardust when someone spun too fast.Toward the back, couples nestled close at candlelit tables, where enchanted bubble hearts rose lazily into the air, popping with a soft shimmer overhead. The entire room hummed with something sweet and spellbound—like joy you could breathe in.
After about the third song, I came up and grabbed the mic. “Where’s Lydia Wickham? Is she here? Can I get her to come up on the stage?”
Lydia climbed onto the stage, a huge smile on her face.
“This woman has been a constant in my life,” I said to the crowd, then turned to Lydia. “Even though at first things were a bit rough, her determination and love saw us through. I didn’t stand a chance. Lydia, I’m completely under your spell. I’ve written this song for you.”
I grabbed an acoustic and played the song I’d worked on over the past few nights after Lydia was asleep. The song was slow and gentle, and Lydia and the crowd swayed to the music.
A thousand words couldn’t tell the way you’ve made me see,
That I am lost without you here next to me.
I need you by my side, you buoy me up,
And have filled the emptiness of my hollow cup.
A hundred reasons why didn’t tear you away from me,
And still you find the best in who I try to be.
