After a while, E jolts me out of my reverie. “Is that your guy?” he asks, his voice farther away than it was—guarded, even.
I blink and examine the portrait, the strong planes of the face, the wavy hair that falls past his suspiciously pointed ears… “No.”
“Who is he, then?”
I trace the handsome, impossible features. I have no clue who it’s supposed to be. A chill runs down my spine. I tear off the page, crumple it, and toss it into the trash. “No one in particular.”
“What’s he like—your fiancé? How did you two meet?” E asks.
“Oh, we met three months ago, at work. He’s an architect, and the hospital hired him to renovate the surgical suites. He asked me to go to dinner, and we fell in love.”
“That’s…nice.”
There’s an awkward pause. I feel like I’m rubbing in the fact that I’m alive and he’s not.
“Mabel thinks I’m being naïve—that it must have been an archer who matched us up. A Spring Fae. She doesn’t believe it’s true love.” My voice sounds thin and brittle at the admission.
Mabel’s never been shy about her opinions. If something bad happened to her, our last conversation would have been an argument about why I shouldn’t marry a mortal.
When I met Lachlan, I fell for him instantly and denied Mabel’s claims that I had been manipulated by an archer. Mostly, I was grateful that someone like him—so well-mannered, blue-blooded, successful, and handsome—would look twice at me. I wanted to start a family, to have somewhere to belong that didn’t include the threat of impending death anddestruction, to be free from the life of hide-and-seek witches wrestle with. I wanted out, but now, I’m not sure there is an out.
And judging by Devi’s gaze when I told her about the wedding, I probably am the foolish young woman Kerri and Mabel thought I was. Oh, Devi held her tongue when I told her about Lachlan, but I could see the pity on her face. The doubts.
She all but confirmed it wasn’t going to last.
“Who does Mabel want you to marry? A male witch?” E asks in jest.
A bitter giggle scrapes my throat. “Male witches don’t really exist. I think Mabs would be happier if I stayed single for the rest of time. She didn’t have such good marriages.”
“Where does your brother fit in, if male witches don’t exist?” he asks. “Is he adopted?”
I nod. “Oh, Nickolas is a bit of an anomaly. My mother had twins?—”
The moment the words leave my mouth, regret follows. I shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have spoken so freely about Nick. I need to be more careful going forward, or I’ll end up babbling away every family secret.
“Witches only have girls when they give birth in the Red Forest, and any males born outside of it don’t have any power,” I add quickly.
He doesn’t need to know my brother was the only male born in the Red Forest in…ever.
“And your father?”
I wave dismissively, eager to change the subject. “We have no idea who he is.”
My phone buzzes, providing a welcome distraction, and I pull it out of my pocket. The image that appears on the screen is a rather risqué photo of my fiancé in his hotel bed.
“Shite.” My spine stiffens, and I press the phone to my chest. “I need a moment alone. Wait for me upstairs, alright? I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
“As you wish.”
There’s a dark undertone in that agreement I don’t care to dwell on. I toy with my cuff earring, waiting for E’s bite of power to fade, then clear my throat and dial Lachlan’s number.
“Hey, gorgeous. I miss you like crazy.”
I press my lips together, summoning the courage to spin yet another lie. “Me, too. Mabel’s doing well, but she’s going to need full-time care for the next few days—maybe longer. I think I should stay with her over the weekend.”
“But we have a wedding to plan.” His voice goes quiet. Distant.
He’s angry.
