Two breathtaking women sit side by side, lounging in a relaxed pose, one’s head resting on the other one’s shoulder as they chat with Killian. I clench my fists anxiously at his presence. He has his back turned to me, and the only sign that he’s aware of my arrival is a slight tensing of his shoulders.
The woman on the left lifts her cerulean eyes and regards me with warmth. She must be Kahlya. The resemblance to Mael is uncanny. They share the same shade of auburn hair with orange undertones, the same upturned bright blue eyes and regal nose. But where Mael is all rugged and strong lines, she is soft and delicate curves.
“Come, come, so delighted to finally meet you, Aimee,” she says, extending her slender arm toward me.
The other woman, a tall, warrior type with slick black hair styled in a pixie cut and mocha skin, lifts her head from Kahlya’s shoulder and gives me a reserved nod.
Celine.
I take a few steps forward and take a seat next to Killian, although my body is screaming at the proximity.
“United front. United front.”I keep chanting in my head as he turns his face toward me, his eyes filled with conflicting emotions I don’t want to dwell on right now.
“Umbra,” he says, his voice softer than it has been in weeks. But is it all for show, or a result of last night?
“Killian,” I acknowledge him with a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes, before turning my attention to the humans.
“Thank you so much for having us, Your Highnesses. I’d like to apologize for our atypical arrival. I’ve just come into my powers recently, and I’m still learning the full extent of them or how I can wield them.”
“No need to apologize,” Kahlya interjects, holding out her hands across the table and grabbing my palms between hers. “We are honestly honored to meet the Foretold One, as we were just telling Killian before you arrived.”
“There’s also no need for lofty titles,” Celine adds. Her demeanor is more guarded than her lover’s, but her small smile is earnest. She seems the quiet, serious type, contrasting with Kahlya’s clearly bubbly personality. “We don’t hold ourselves to the senseless standards of the Faes, or even the vampires,” she says, throwing a glance at Killian.
I expect him to grumble something under his breath at the jab, but his grin is wide and sincere.
Maybe this meeting is not doomed after all.
“I know my cousin already shared our biggest secret with you last night,” Kahlya says, smirking. “You’ll have to excuse his absence. We decided it would be better if he didn’t join us today, seeing how he might’ve overstepped onsomeone’stoes.”
Shit. Here we go.
The tips of my ears burn with secondhand embarrassment, and my anxiety returns tenfold, prickling my skin like tiny ice shards. Killian places a calloused hand on my thigh, stopping my leg from bouncing uncontrollably.
I didn’t even notice I was doing that.
His cold touch ironically sends a wave of heat through my bloodstream, and I hate how my nerves settle with his supportive gesture.
“About that,” he says, clearing his throat, “I want to apologize for my discourteous behavior during dinner. I’m afraid my jealousy got the best of me, and I am troubled that I might have caused you great offense. This alliance is crucial for the future of Imiryion, and you have my word that no such lapse in judgement will occur again.”
Oh, so he can be diplomatic if he wants to be. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.
“So, are you two an item?” Kahlya leans over the table, her eyes shining with curiosity. “The prophesied saviorsanda couple?”
“No,” I say at the same time he answers, “Yes.”
His hand clenches on my thigh, gripping my flesh possessively.
“It’s, uhm, rather complicated,” I stammer.
“We have some differences to work out, but I assure you they do not interfere with our common goal. We are attuned to each other regarding our roles in defeating Morweena,” Killian says somberly.
Differences? Ha! That’s one way to describe the shitshow that is going on between us. I clench my teeth while plastering a fake smile that hurts my jaw. I would love nothing more than to shove his hand off my leg, the one currently drawing lazy circles with his thumb as if this is normal.
As if we’re okay.
But for the sake of appearances, I swallow my rage and place my hand gingerly on top of his.
“Yeah, nothing to worry about.”
