Hmm. They were good-looking and of noble blood based on their clothing. They would likely be able to care for her material needs.
“Where is the third one?” I glanced around.
Her body tensed for a moment, making my fingers press into her flesh.
“I’m dancing with him,” she said confidently. My head whipped back to her. “But obviously you don’t count, so those two are the only ones that I didn’t recoil from.”
I swallowed hard, not sure if the bitter taste in my mouth was from her dismissing me or from knowing I couldn’t be an option. Elowyn was watching me, and I needed to pull it together.
“Tell me what you liked about them.”
“Well, they are both fine-looking, I suppose. We would have good genetics for children because they both have magic.”
My pulse roared in my ears at the casualness of her words. Children. She’d sleep with this man for the rest of her life. I hadn’t thought about that part of her getting married, or maybe I purposely pushed it to the back of my mind.
My face burned hot.
“They both have titles, so they will be busy a lot and leave me alone.”
I chuckled softly.
“That’s what you’re looking for—to be left alone?”
“I like silence and peace. I don’t want someone who hovers around me. And both of them know the coven is mine, and they will have no power with the title of king of the Deathweaver Coven.”
“So which one will you go for?” I asked, just so I knew who to scare off.
“The one with dark hair is more the type I pictured myself with. I’m more attracted to him, but the blond was more polite. He has kind eyes.”
Her type.I immediately looked at the guy and sized him up, trying to see if there were any similarities between us. We were both tall, both had dark hair, bronze skin… gods, we looked similar. I was pushing boundaries I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“He looks like he could be a brother of mine,” I said casually.
Elowyn’s cheeks heated as she rolled her eyes.
“You’re a god. You know you are good-looking.”
I knew women found me conventionally attractive, but I hadn’t cared about a single one of them. But knowing she thought I was good-looking felt different. I didn’t understand why others always tripped over themselves when they saw my face, but now I desperately wanted her to be one of them. I wanted her attention and compliments.
I wanted her to say I had kind eyes.
“What?” she asked. “Don’t let that go to your head.”
“You’re saying I’m your type,” I said softly.
Her chest rose and fell quickly as she avoided my eyes. The flush on her chest let me know she was embarrassed.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she whispered.
“How is that ridiculous? That man and I look similar.”
She didn’t say anything as she avoided my eyes. I pulled her against me so she was nearly flush. Oh, I liked this. This was what I wanted to see from her when she talked about me. The other men didn’t elicit a reaction like this.
“What’s your type?” she asked.
You.
Shit, I couldn’t say that.
