“Not exactly a rousing endorsement,” I spluttered. “Your daughter is still thinking of returning to Caelan. I will not force her into a bond when she loves another man.”
“We both know a bond like that can be forced.”
“But it can be formed without another’s knowledge.” I shook my head vehemently. “I will lose her if I do such a thing. Tell me, Cernunnos, is that why you wish me to pursue such a path, so she will hate me and be free to choose among the undoubtedlynumerous better choices you have awaiting her back in your lands?”
“My lands are her lands, too, Lord. There are no other men, as you say. Her heart is no contest. She won’t give it out as a prize for pleasing her. Evie will choose as she sees fit.”
“And if she chooses Caelan?”
The god’s eyes sparkled. “I would hope the man who loves her will convince her why that is a bad choice.”
I swore. “If you are through tormenting me, you may leave.”
The god’s mocking laughter lingered long after he disappeared.
I let out a slow breath and tilted my head up to the darkening sky. Secrets had gotten us into this mess. Would the truth set us free?
Chapter
Eighteen
Moira, Simone, and Garrett had accepted Rowan’s hospitality and were staying on the other side of the Keep, a few miles away from Rowan’s main residence. We planned to reconvene tomorrow to figure out what we could do to stop this disaster in its tracks. Rowan would call Ben in the morning, but tonight it was only us, dining outside under the stars.
Where it was normally easy between us, tonight held a fine thread of tension, the many things we left unsaid lying between us. I was on my third glass of wine and should have been wiser. This was the stuff Mom and Hazel had invented, and it had a kick. Such a kick, my tongue threatened to wag, and that rarely went well for me.
But Rowan had imbibed too, his third glass sitting almost empty by his plate. We dined on beef stew tonight, served with a delicious crusty bread. I asked to meet his chef, but Rowan demurred.
“He’s shy,” was all he said, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.
“Are you keeping me from your people for a reason?” I asked, wincing as the words tumbled from my lips.
Rowan blinked in surprise. “Evie. No. I—you came here wounded and alone. I thought seeing everyone all at once might overwhelm you.”
“I’ve been here a month!”
Rowan laughed at my outraged tone. “Yes, and in that month you’ve been barely alive. You’ve done more these past few days than you’ve done in weeks.”
My nostrils flared. The urge to argue with him almost overwhelmed me, but he was right.
Rowan grinned. “There’s that spark. I wondered when it would come back.”
“You provoke me on purpose,” I grumbled.
He held his hands up and leaned back. “I answered a question! But your memories are wrong. You’ve already met some of my people.”
I narrowed my eyes, racking my brain for the answer. “The artist.”
“And everyone in the town square. I have far more paranormals than just shifters. My territory has long been considered a haven for others who are different.”
“More different than a Chimera?” I said with a rueful chuckle.
“You’d be surprised,” he said cryptically, “but no, there are no Chimeras here. You and your Barrett are the only ones I know of, though I’m sure if anyone knows more, you’d be the one to ask.”
Moira’s words came back to me. “Caelan is on his way.”
“I’m surprised he isn’t already here.”
“Moira wouldn’t give him a potion.”
