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Her mother flipped the pages a few times, and Cassie anxiously waited. This had something to do with Alexander, the man from her dreams, and she wasn’t sure she was going to like it. Finally, her mother tapped a page, and looked up at her.
Cassie’s brows lifted. “What is it?”
“Alexander Petraeus, House of Poseidon, known as Earthshaker, Petraeus, Neptune….”
“Uh—huh?” Cassie was never really at a loss for words but what on earth did her mother mean?
Evelyn snapped the book shut, and almost immediately it vanished. She looked her daughter directly in the eye.
“Alexander Petraeus is the son of Poseidon, the God of the Sea. It is said that Poseidon only sired only one son, and gave him power over every element under his control. Most druids have one, sometimes two elements at their disposal; Alexander has many.”
So Alexander was a druid, like her. Although the thought made her slightly uneasy, it didn’t frighten her. He’d never tried to harm her, and he’d been the first to explain the druids to her.
“When the druids roamed the Earth, Alexander was known as “The Avenger.”
That didn’t sound good. Nope, didn’t sound good at all. Cassie felt a distinct chill go through her body. The soft hairs on her arm stood. “Why?”
“Because he is responsible for most of the havoc wrecked by the druids. Hundreds of witches were killed at his command.” She shuddered, as if shrugging off a memory. “It was Alexander Petraeus who cursed the witches to mortal lives as the druids were being banished. He was the only one powerful enough to do it.”
It was Cassie’s turn to shudder. Alexander had been responsible for the massacre of hundreds of witches? Her dream guy? He didn’t seem capable of doing anything so terrible.
“Maybe there are two—”
Evelyn shook her head briskly. “There is only one Alexander Petraeus, Cassandre.”
A chill went down her spine as her mother quoted Alexander’s exact words. She’d thought him vain at the time. He’d been telling the truth.
“You will tell me everything. When did he first appear to you? How frequently? Everything, Cassandre. Be quick and leave nothing out.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vivienne crawled out of bed slightly after ten in the morning. She was naked, a delicious tingling at her core. After taking a quick shower, she ran down the winding staircase and headed for the kitchen. She was hungry again, but that was no doubt because after their two-hour session in the living room, Conall had awoken her at five for a good morning that still made her blush to the roots of her hair. She’d come to realize, as the days passed, that he was an early riser. It didn’t matter what time he went to bed, he was up with the dawn, or near it.
A large grin dominated her face as she walked into the kitchen, but upon seeing who was there, the grin faded. Sloan. Everything came back swiftly. Her exchange with Samia, Sloan grabbing her, the darkness….
Sloan’s eyes lifted from the newspaper before him and he placed his mug of coffee back onto the table.
Vivienne nodded once in his direction and moved to the bread basket. She’d have to speak to Sloan at some time, preferably soon, but right now, at this particular moment, she just wanted her breakfast. After placing two slices of raisin bread into the toaster, she walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed the cream cheese. Her ear pricked as they recognized…silence. By now, Sloan should have moved. A slight rustle, or even the grazing of the mug against the table, but he hadn’t.
Curiosity got the better of her, and she looked over her shoulder. He stared directly at her, as if he were waiting to say something. Brows furrowing, Vivienne was about to turn back to her breakfast when he spoke.
“If I offended you by returning to you the house in the manner that I did, I apologize.” He dipped his head in a formal manner. “And if I hurt you in any way, know it was unintentional.”
Vivienne stared at him for a long while, and then she nodded. “Apology accepted.”
Sloan bowed his head, and pushed his chair back.
She followed him with her gaze, wondering if he was leaving because of her. You don’t have to leave.”
A little smile touched his lips as he snapped the newspaper closed and picked up his mug. “CCC” was engraved in white around the blue enamel. “I was waiting for you, Vivienne.”
To apologize, she knew.
The toaster popped up, and she quickly placed the two pieces of bread on a saucer, before turning back to Sloan. He was almost out of the kitchen.
“Wait, please,” she called. “Why did you…treat me like that?”
