I nod, wringing my hands together. “Salem, I…”
Before I can tell him that we can’t happen and how sorry I am, he opens his large hand out to me. In the center of his palm is a small black velvet box.
“For me?” I ask, my brow furrowing.
He nods, his gaze roaming over my face like he’s categorizing and remembering every single detail.
“Salem, it’s very thoughtful, but I can’t accept anything from you,” I gently say, even though I want nothing more than to take the gift and see what it is.
He frowns and places the box down on my peach-colored countertop. I hear the door open behind him, but I don’t look away from his eyes, something passing between us. Staying away from him is going to be more complicated than I thought, no matter what he did to Jagger.
How bad is that? He hurt my brother. Why don’t I feel threatened by him standing right in front of me?
“Thank you,” I whisper.
His answering smile hits me like a bolt of lightning, and I freeze. He’s beautiful when he smiles, and it’s disarming. His eyes never leave my face.
“Salem, this is the last place I thought I’d run into you,” a soft voice comes from behind. “Peach, you okay?”
I step to the side to look around Salem, to see Astrid standing there. The Fae Queen often drops in for some sweet treats. “I’m okay.” I smile at her. “I have the cinnamon scrolls you wanted.”
I don’t even finish my sentence before Salem disappears into thin air.
“You sure you’re okay? What did he want?” she asks, coming to stand in front of me where Salem was seconds ago. Her brow furrows, her hazel eyes filled with concern. “Did he hurt you?”
I open my mouth and then close it before taking the small box into my hand and tucking it into my apron. “No. No, he didn’t. He was sweet,” I admit, sounding surprised to my own ears. At least I think he was. Hopefully, there’s not a deadly insect or tiny bomb inside that jewelry box.
“Sweet?” she repeats, blinking slowly a few times before throwing her head back and laughing loudly, her long braid bouncing with the movement. “You must be the first person on earth to say that. Salem is not sweet. He’s certifiably insane.”
“He’s my mate,” I blurt out.
Her eyes widen. “Oh fuck.”
Fuck indeed.
“I didn’t see that one,” she mutters to herself, frowning. She looks up at me. “I usually know who is fated to whom, but I definitely missed this.”
“Yeah.” I sigh, pulling out a box and asking her what she’d like.
She orders the scrolls, plus a few cupcakes and cheesecake.
“On the plus side…” she says after she hands over some gold coins, “… you just became one of the safest females in all eight kingdoms. No one wants to go up against Salem and his batch of insanity.”
Her lips twitch, then so do mine, and before we know it, we are both laughing.
She shakes her head at me, then sighs. “You’re in deep trouble, Peach. You need anything, you come find me in Aravelle, all right?”
“Thank you,” I reply, offering her a small smile. She takes her tray and zips away, probably back to her delicious yet also scary mate, the Shadow King in the Fae Kingdom.
Alone again, I pull out the little black box and open it.
Inside is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen in my life. Made with a gold band, it has a large emerald stone in the center.
Smiling softly to myself, I take the ring out and slide it on my pointer finger.
It fits perfectly.
And the emerald?
