“Nonsense. That’s just the jitters talking. Now, pack up your things. The limo will be here any second.”
“But I—”
She cuts me off with a raised hand, already dialing the front desk.
It’s not worth getting upset over. Not worth taking a stand. What’s the point? Before the night is over, I’ll be officially transferred from one controlling family to another, just like a car or a boat. When I wake up tomorrow, the only things that’ll be different about my life are my name and the scenery.
While Eloise makes arrangements to have the flowers placed in the limo (“Carefully! Those flowers are worth more than your life!”), I pack up my toiletries and take one last look in the mirror at the girl formerly known as West Avery.
And suddenly, all I can think about is my mom. Myrealmom.
Growing up, I spent a lot of time convincing myself it was just theideaof a mother that I missed. After all, I never met the actual person. How could I miss someone I never even laid eyes on? Never touched?
But tonight, right now, I missher. The woman whose voice I never got to hear outside the womb. Whose hugs and kisses I never got to feel. Whose turquoise eyes and slightly crooked smile and naturally silver-streaked black hair I supposedly inherited, even as her legendary magic skipped me.
My throat tightens around a knot of emotion. I never knew the woman who gave birth to me, but Idoknow this: lemon or not, she wouldneverhave allowed me to marry someone I didn’t love. Not even to wipe out the family debt and get in good with the big guys.
Gazing at my reflection, I find no trace of the man who traded away my future happiness. No hint of his dark eyes, his blond hair, his prominent nose.
Mom gave me this beautiful face. This smile. The wanderlust that keeps me awake at night. The hope in my heart that refuses to die, even when things are at their most bleak.
The only things I inherited from my father were his mistakes. And now, I’m paying for them.
With a dull ache in my heart, I press my palm to the mirror, covering the sight of my reflection.
Eloise was wrong.
It’s not the birds I need to say goodbye to tonight.
It’s me.
Chapter Three
DRAEGAN
“I need every assurance you miscreants will be on your best behavior tonight.” I fasten my cufflinks and pour another glass of cognac—a pointless attempt at soothing my nerves after pacing the sacristy for an hour failed to do the trick. “No one leaves this room until I’m convinced you won’t make a fucking nuisance of yourselves.”
Rook offers a silent nod, his attention focused on the cathedral security feeds he’s monitoring via his tablet. Augustine, busy arranging his artfully mussed hair in front of an antique silver mirror, ignores me altogether.
But Jude?
Fucking Jude.
Seems the bastard polished up his most menacing grin tonight, all for the special occasion of pushing my buttons. As dapper as he looks in formal attire, the sight of that unhinged smile sets my teeth on edge—a warning of trouble to come, no doubt.
“Now, Draegan,” he practically coos, dark blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. “When have weeverbeen less than perfect gentlemen?”
Rook scoffs before I even get the chance. “Would you like that list divided by century, category of offense, or resultant body count? I’ve got spreadsheets, Jude.Withcolor-coded tabs.”
“That so?” Jude plucks the tablet from Rook’s hands, grin stretching as he scans the screen. “What color’s the tab for the time I threw your arse from the bell tower and watched your head split open like a melon on the street?”
“What? You’ve never—”
“I’m bored and in a mood. Best not to give me a reason, eh?” He shoves the tablet back into Rook’s hands, then swings that crazy-eyed gaze my way. “Remind me again why the fuck I’m wearing a suit and giving up a perfectly fine Saturday night to attend a high-society bullshit wedding for a couple of high-society bullshit dickheads I’ve never even met?”
Summoning the last of my patience, I set my glass on the vestment cabinet and return his glare. “Because the Archmage of Manhattan is marrying off his only son, and he requested the presence of our esteemed company. Therefore, I thought it best if—”
“LennonForsythe?” Jude asks. “Shoulda known. You’ve been glued to him for months.”
