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Yep, she wanted to punch him.
Wrapping the towel in her hands around her shoulders she glared at him, “Shouldn’t you explain why I woke up to you in my bed?”
He shrugged, shooting her a wicked smile. “Don’t worry, I didn’t attempt to ravish you while you slept.”
He nimbly jumped back, barely avoiding the dagger that stuck out where he’d been standing not a second ago. “Feeling a bit frisky this morning are we darling?”
“More like pre-coffee.” Walking over to her bag she bumped into him with a little more force than necessary. “Move, or the next time I won’t miss.”
He leaned over, his warm breath tickling her neck. “I know a special way to work all that aggression out, would you like to try?”
She looked at him, “Riddle me this warlock, do you really want to end this mission alive?”
The two stared at each other for a long moment. The tension climbed between them until Castian straightened and looked away from her. “Seeing as you’re not up to it I’ll move so you can finish changing.”
“Yeah, you do that.” Oye muttered, getting back to picking her outfit out.
* * *
“I never thought I would see you in anything other than black or jeans.” Castian mused aloud, when she came out of the bathroom in a soft pale pink dress that stopped right above her knees. Her hair was braided in a long braid down her back.
Oye forced herself not to look away from him. She didn’t want anything he did to affect her, and yet her belly had tightened at the look of approval in his eyes. “It’s not mine. It’s Lanias, she said I needed to have a more upscale wardrobe. The only reason I wore what I did yesterday was because she didn’t say I had to wear it when I arrived.” She walked and took his arm, “But from now on I’ll be playing your sweet, empty-headed lover.”
Castian wrinkled his nose. “Are you serious? I much prefer your sarcasm and subtle threats of body mutilation in comparison to this.”
“Shut up,” she snapped, pulling him along. “I’m hungry, and I need coffee.”
He followed her. “Ways to keep a witch satisfied, coffee and food.”
“That’s about right,” she muttered as they entered the hallway, only to step out of the way of a servant carrying someone’s luggage. “It looks like we have more guests,” she whispered.
Nodding in agreement, Castian gave a cursory look around but didn’t spot anyone. “They must have gone to the third dining room to eat breakfast.”
“Welp, let’s not be the last to get there.”
Castian frowned, “I wonder at your eagerness to listen to the stale conversation and dull bragging of the rich.”
Oye ignored his complaint. The two continued on their way to the dining room. Feeling suddenly anxious, Oye stopped at the closed doors and glanced around.
“Is there something wrong?”
Oye debated on whether she should mention her growing anxiety or not. She decided against it. She was probably just stressed out from her nightmare. “No, it’s nothing.”
Brushing the feeling off, she opened the door and entered.
“We weren’t expecting you to come this morning. Jennifer told us you would be arriving with Asher,” Tabitha said to the man who had his back to them from where he stood at the buffet. He laughed.
“No, coming with Asher would surely be more boring than coming alone.”
The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why. Holding Castian’s hand, she tightened her hold of it as they moved towards the buffet. Castian offered her a supportive smile that surprised her, could he sense that she felt uneasy.
Swallowing, she moved her attention towards the table only to stop dead when the man talking to Tabitha turned around. Her mind froze as she stared into the face she’d sworn to forget. A memory she’d buried so deep it wasn’t till this very moment she remembered anything related to it.
Oye’s past was something she kept locked away for a reason. The pain from then swept through her like a train as she stared at the man she’d told her mother wasn’t a threat all those years ago. He hadn’t changed much; he still was tall and good looking. He still looked like he was meant to rule the world. It was only now she knew that his smile and soft green eyes weren’t truly all that pleasant, nor was he as kind as he pretended to be.
“Don’t you trust me?”
He smiled at her, from where he kneeled drawing the magic circle. His jeans worn and t-shirt black, the girls at the local high school thought he was a modern version of James Dean.
