I shook my head like a stubborn two-year-old. “No, I’m staying with you—wherever that happens to be.”
“That’s not possible.”
“You promised, William,” I reminded him, glaring into his eyes. “That we’d be together forever, and I think me leaving you behind kind of breaks that promise, don’t you?”
“We will be together, but I will do my part to make sure I do this right—so no harm comes to you—”
“Nothing will happen to me.”
“Please don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”
Neither one of us was going to yield—it was apparent. His eyes were dead-locked and focused on his objective, and my crossed arms and glaring eyes were symbols of my unwavering stance.
Patrick peeked his cautious looking face in between us and turned to me.
“Think about it, Bryn. It’s only a matter of time before John finds out about you two.” His eyebrows rose, tempting my objection, but I remained silent. “I know you two are trying to be cautious, but all it would take is one slip, and after last night’s little rendezvous—” An evil smile formed, showcasing his gleaming teeth.
“Be serious, Patrick.” I hissed at him. I wasn’t in the mood for his attempts at light-heartedness. Actually, I was far beyond being in that kind of a mood.
“Alright, alright, sorry. You’re crankier than usual tonight.”
“I wonder why?” I shot an accusatory glance at the man who deserved neither my harsh words nor looks, but the thought of leaving him behind filled me with dread. I was grasping at straws, throwing a Hail Mary . . . anything to keep him with me.
“Think of it this way then, since you can’t look at it practically,” Patrick said. “If you do stay behind with William, how long do you think my over-reactor of a brother will be able to keep his cool with John’s less than gentleman-like behavior around you?” Patrick nudged me, knowing he’d hit the bulls-eye of my heart.
“I give you guys a week tops before someone witnesses one of your fleeting little touches you think no one sees.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “Or William pummels our boy John for the daily undressing he gives you with his eyes.”
“Patrick!” William shouted.
“Come on, William. The cold hard truth’s the only thing that gets through to this girl. The billowy layers you like to wrap it up in don’t work,” he said, thrusting his hand at me where I sat trembling from my fear-induced anger. “Obviously.”
A few seconds of silence hung heavy around us, before two sets of eyes teaming with anticipation, set upon me.
“Come on, Bryn. Time to be reasonable,” Patrick voiced slowly. “I’ll still be at Townsend Manor, and you know I won’t let anything happen to him.”
Patrick and I exchanged a loaded look as we recalled this morning’s conversation.
I festered in my seat, not able to give in yet, although I knew I would. They were both right, and the only reason I didn’t want to be separated from him was because of my selfishness—because I wanted him with me more than anything else. I wasn’t going to let this formidable vice of mine be the undoing of another person I loved.
Patrick rested his hand on my shoulder. He could smell victory in the air. “Come on, it’ll be alright.”
My head slumped forward in defeat into my damp palms. “Alright,” I whispered. “I’ll go . . . but, one month.” I shot a warning look at William. “Or else I’m coming back and retrieving you myself.”
“You have my word,” he vowed, before he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. Before my head retreated to the sanctity of his chest, I saw him flash a grateful look at Patrick.
I was still fuming from our conversation, and how I’d let Patrick persuade me into agreement, when we pulled up to Townsend Manor. I didn’t wait for William to come around and open the door for me as normal. I even slammed it shut after I got out just so they’d both know—if they weren’t already convinced—that I was not happy. “It doesn’t look like I’m the only one with a temper,” Patrick muttered over my shoulder once he leapt over the front seat and walked past me.
I glared at him.
When William came around the car, and I saw the concern on his face, my glare evaporated. No matter how angry I was, there’s no way I could glare with any kind of feeling at his face.
The three of us climbed the stairs together; the two of them on either side of me like bookends. I reincarnated my glare at the Manor before me—it was the reason for my anger and worry anyways, inanimate as it was.
Patrick shoved through the front door and held it open for William and me.
“Welcome back.” A voice greeted us immediately.
William stiffened and took a side-step in front of me, putting me out of view from the figure coming towards us. I didn’t need my vision to know who it was. The authority in his voice and the condescension between the words identified who it was.
“John,” William responded through gritted teeth. “We were just taking Bryn upstairs. It’s been a long journey and we’re all looking forward to some much needed rest.”
“I’m sure you are,” John said. He must have come to a stop in front of us because his footsteps could no longer be heard, but I couldn’t see him due to the tower fortressed in front of me. “Did you have a pleasant journey, Miss Dawson?”
William somehow managed to tense even further when John addressed me. I stepped out from behind him, and I felt his anger switch to anxiety.
“Yes, I did,” I said, now in full view of John.
John’s smile erupted, which whenever revealed, always gave me the feeling of hundreds of furry tarantula legs scurrying over my bare skin. His eyes didn’t leave me when he addressed the man radiating his emotions beside me. “I’d like to talk with you and Patrick first, before you retire for the evening. I’d like to find out how the operation with Mr. Lowe went.”
William didn’t respond. His eyes stayed fixed on John’s that continued to burn like lasers through me. There was something new in his eyes tonight, something that hadn’t been there before our departure yesterday. There was a flicker within the sapphire-blue and a widening of the black pupils that looked like anticipation. It made me uneasy, and I wondered what had transpired to invoke this emotion.
Patrick nodded and crossed his arms. “Sure, no problem-o. William and I will stay.” Less attuned ears wouldn’t have noticed the emphasis Patrick put on his brother’s name, as if ordering him to stay.
Not waiting for a formal excusal, I turned around and allowed one quick look into William’s eyes. I expected to find them burning with the same raging fires I felt within him, but they were flat and perfectly expressionless. It was chilling to see the shell of the man I loved, absent of emotion.
“Good evening, then,” I said, making it sound like it was for the three men I was departing from, but I’d said it for him. I hinted a glimmer of his response in his eyes when I passed by.
I was uneasy leaving William behind with John, but Patrick was there, and William and John had gotten along for the past ten years without a hitch. I was the catalyst that sparked the Immortal testosterone to flare between these two men when I was near. I took the stairs by twos as I headed up to my room, eager to be comforted by a pair of comfy pajamas and the hope I could shut down the endless thoughts running through my mind for a few hours.
I shoved open the door to my room and practically screamed in surprise.
Stella was gliding through my room with the kind of even grace you’d expect a ghost to move in. She was carrying a silver vase that cascaded with an unusual variety of rose. As my eyes searched the rest of my room, I found more than just this one vase she carried—Ithere were dozens. I sucked in an uneasy breath; although I wasn’t certain who they were from, there was one name that popped to mind.
“They’re from John,” Stella announced, confirming the name in my head. “They’re the fire and ice variety—he had them special ordered.”
The fire that burnt within me extinguished into a wisp of smoke as ice crackled throughout, intertwining every piece of me. Two things had made me anxious in less than one minute—the new glimmer in John’s eyes, and the excessive roses poisoning my room with a scent that should have been pleasant, but instead entered my nose smelling as repulsive as burning flesh.
“He wanted you to feel welcome here and thought some flowers would do just that,” she said, sounding contemptuous. She set the vase down on the coffee table, before crossing the room towards me like a Porsche—redlining every gear.
She smoked to a stop in front of me, eyeing me over with such disapproval I looked down to make sure I didn’t have some huge stain on my shirt. “Did you hear about the Betrothal Ball we will be hosting here next Saturday?”
“The Betrothal Ball?” I questioned, lifting my eyes back to hers once I was certain my shirt was stain-free.
A smile pulled at her lips. “Every so often, the Immortals of each Alliance are called together for an event known as the Betrothal Ball. This is when the Council announces their selected Betrothals, and the first time when these soon to be United couples discover who it is they will spend forever with,” she said with a new tone in her voice. It sounded wistful, maybe even hopeful. “A Unity ceremony is arranged shortly thereafter—similar to the Mortal event called a wedding—but our version is far more elaborate.”
My thoughts turned wistful when I thought of a certain Betrothal and Unity I longed for.
“It’s an incredibly significant event for us Immortals—a time when a select few are rewarded for their selflessness and years of service to their callings.”
She inspected the bouquet of flowers immediately in front of her absently, too caught up in her impassioned speech to pay much attention to anything else. “You know they’re saying John is to be granted a Betrothal. That’s why the Council is here so early, of course.”
While I should have been relieved John would likely be Betrothed to another in a week’s time, the tarantula legs crept over my skin again.
“They’re here inspecting his Betrothed-to-be. A Union with someone as important and high ranking as him is taken very seriously. The Council spends a large amount of time selecting just the right companion.” She talked to the bouquet before her, but her words were meant for the only other Immortal object in the room.
“The rumor is . . . I am to be the one selected for John.” Her lips pulled up in an approving smile, her eyes dazzling sparks of hope. I didn’t miss the inflection in her voice that had said this more as a warning to me, as opposed to passing on a piece of information. She was warning me to stay away, she’d staked her claim. I couldn’t understand why Stella would perceive me as being a threat to her with all her exquisite beauty—but she obviously did.
“That’s great, Stella. You two would make a great couple.” I didn’t have to fake the genuineness in my response.