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“I’ve been searching for you,” I tell Richard. “I even moved to London to find you.”
“Oh, dearest girl, since I learned about you, I’ve loved you. I wanted so badly to know you. But your mother…”
“Kept us apart, I know. I saw the letter you wrote her, asking about me.”
“She received it?”
I nod. “But she never opened it, just stashed it in the back of her dresser. I had no idea you were still alive until she died earlier this year.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re devastated by her loss.” He settles his hand over his heart. “I was.”
It seems odd that this man I’ve never met knew my mother intimately. How did they even meet? And how did he know about her death?
“Actually, Mom and I weren’t that close.”
Regret settles between his dark, expressive brows. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hoped leaving would help, but…” He sighs, watching Marrok cup my shoulder possessively. “I suppose you exhibited magical gifts early? I’m sure Barbara hated that.”
Did magic break my parents apart? Is Richard the reason my mother was so antiparanormal?
“Nothing like that. We just didn’t…click.”
“But you have abilities, yes? Though I adopted the Gray surname a few centuries ago, we’re Le Fays. This blood comes with amazing magic. I manifested tendencies very early. Certainly you’ve shown some ability…”
Occasional snippets of dreams that come to fruition, but I’ve heard average Americans on TV talk about doing the same. “No. Well, except Marrok and I had the same dream.”
My father gives him another once-over and frowns. “Of each other?”
Hoping like hell that he can’t see my flushing cheeks, I nod.
“When?”
“A few days ago. The night before we met.”
Richard hesitates. Something in his expression tells me I’m saying something he’d rather not hear. “Sometimes, witches call to their mates through dreams. If you dreamed of him, your heart magic guided you.”
I blink. There’s that word again: mates. And Richard’s connotation definitely seems like a husband-wife thing. “What do you mean by mates?”
Bram covers his surprise with a cough.
I turn to Marrok, who’s too busy glowering at my father to meet my stare.
“Heart mates,” Richard answers, as if that explains everything.
“You mean like, until-death-do-us-part mates?”
“Yes.” Given his sour tone, my father clearly isn’t happy to be confirming that.
Does that mean magic compelled Marrok to be with me? That he isn’t with me of his own free will? Without my magic, would he even want me?
If mere news was ever going to make me sick, this is it.
Marrok’s stony countenance reveals nothing, but his lack of surprise is a bombshell. He knew that we’re mated. And he didn’t tell me.
Distress and pure, pissed-off anger mix into a potent emotional cocktail. I feel like screaming…or clobbering an immortal warrior.
But I’ll confront Marrok later. Alone. Now isn’t the time, and here isn’t the place. After this party, we’ll have our first fight as a “married” couple.
Something to look forward to.
