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Reading Misty’s face like a book, Lysander continued, “Maybe you and the prince were never meant to be, but---he did not have to deceive you that way. It was not the right and honorable thing to do.” He squeezed her hand so she would look into his eyes as he said quietly, “That’s why I understand if you have a hard time believing him. In fact, I don’t blame you at all for not believing him.”
Misty bowed her head, inhaling several times just to keep the tears at bay. It was her first time to hear such words. Everyone around her had kept telling her that although Domenico had been a world-class jerk, he deserved a second chance. Maybe he did, but was it so unreasonable for her to be unwilling to risk her heart again?
This was her life, not anyone else’s. If most thought she was a fool to have thrown the chance away of being a true mate to Domenico Moretti, then that was their problem.
She was a strong woman now, and she didn’t want again to go back to being the weak naïve fool she had been when she was married to Domenico.
When she finally controlled her tears, she looked up at Lysander with a tremulous smile. “Thank you for that,” she whispered. “I feel so much better…” Her hands fluttered in the air as she sought for a word that could perfectly describe what Lysander’s words meant to her.
In the end, all she said was, “Thank you.” She moved close, her br**sts grazing the sleeve of his shirt as she kissed his cheek. “I’m so lucky to have known you.”
And this was yet another moment he was waiting for.
Lysander carefully pulled Misty close into his embrace, inhaling the scent of her hair. “Anything for my beautiful Co-Ambassador,” he murmured just before allowing himself to let go.
Outside Misty’s cottage, Domenico shifted into a wolf, his claws raking the ground as he worked to bury his rage. It was that or lope towards where his woman was and kill the man attempting to seduce her from him.
The scent of the younger man’s arousal tainted the air like garbage, and he watched with fierce burning eyes as Misty walked Lysander Allard out of the door. She tiptoed once again to kiss him on the cheek.
He wanted to howl his rage, his jealousy, his hurt.
Misty.
What else could he do to make her believe him?
~~~
Domenico Moretti was in a foul mood the next day. Misty had seen it before, how his aloof façade was completely burnt away by his temper, and though Domenico had not said anything to her, she also instinctively knew that she was the one he was furious with.
What had she done?
The tour around the realm was postponed for no reason, with Domenico instead requesting in a cold voice to discuss with Misty and Lysander the Faeries’ defensive strategies within and outside their realm. Throughout the day, the only time Misty had seen him smile was when he had dismissed Ivory’s offer of assistance, promising instead to meet with the woman for dinner.
Domenico was well aware of the way Misty had stiffened as he invited the other woman to dinner and was coldly satisfied by it. He was a Lyccan, and emotions like possessiveness and jealousy were deeply ingrained in him. If she had thought he would simply take the fact that she had allowed another man into her home lying down, then Misty didn’t f**king know him as well as she once did.
“I believe Misty brought up the issue of a possible attack of vampires coming into your realm,” Domenico said as the three of them walked into the courtyard where soldiers in training continued with sword practice.
“Vampires will not be able to enter this realm.” Lysander stated it matter-of-factly.
Domenico stated just as matter-of-factly, “They will be able to if one of you invited them in.”
Lysander tried not to bristle at the assumption. “My race is not the betraying kind.”
“There are always bad apples, Allard. You should do your best not to forget that.” Before the other man could speak, Domenico nodded towards the training ground. “Shall we practice for a round?”
And then they were sparring, Lyccan against Faerie, and the soldiers immediately gathered around them, with Misty unable to believe that Domenico and Lysander were going against each other just like that.
But…this was practice. She didn’t have anything to worry about---
She screamed when Domenico’s sword actually drew blood. “Domenico, stop this!”
“This is how you practice using your swords,” Domenico said coldly as he moved away and they started to circle each other once more. “Your sword was forged in blood and it is designed to kill. Honor the memory of your dead by learning how to goddamn use the weapons you were given.”
Lysander suddenly disappeared from view. Although he was invisible to the eyes of non-Faeries, members of his race had no problems seeing him, appearing like a semi-transparent figure, and they held their breaths, wondering if this would finally put the Lyccan prince at a disadvantage.
Domenico didn’t miss a beat. Relying on his heightened senses, which Faeries were not blessed with, he used Lysander’s scent to detect his location and made a sudden jab, catching Lysander by surprise once more with another fresh wound.
“Use your invisibility only as a last resort, Allard,” Domenico advised the younger man in a bored tone. “Since it takes too much of your power, you should learn to use it wisely.”
The speed in which the other man had wounded him twice distracted Lysander, causing his invisibility to wear off, and Misty cried out when she saw the gash on his cheek.
Without looking at her, he murmured, “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine!” Misty blurted out. In fact, she thought he was a little crazy for taking on someone like Domenico. His family had its own fighting hall for heaven’s sake! And what did Lysander have? A freaking dancing hall – literally!
She opened her mouth to beg Domenico to stop, but he still looked coldly furious, and any hopes she had of asking him to take it easy on her g*y friend died at that look.
The two men were still circling each other. She wanted to stare at Lysander alone, but she couldn’t help glancing at Domenico once in a while, amazed at the coiled strength in him, the speed of his movements, and the grace with which he wielded his sword. It was her first time to see him in action, and although he did appear deadly, something inside her squeezed painfully still. This was nothing compared to the dangers he faced almost every day, protecting not just his own race but other non-human races as well.
She tried to stop herself from remembering all those nights he had hunted for vampires and came back bloody and dark. Seeing Domenico and Lysander now fighting each other with almost deadly intent made Misty remember the horrors of the past.
