“Thanks, Saina,” Breck said.
“And Breck…”
“Yeah?”
“Who’s your mate?”
Breck sat up straight. “What do you mean?” he said with no hint of his usual smoothness.
Saina looked apologetic. “I’ve gotten to the point where I can recognize it, like I can tell when someone’s telling the truth or not. My magic bounces off of mates weirdly. You’re sort of… vibrating with it.”
“You can’t tell anyone!” Breck insisted so vehemently that Saina’s eyes got large.
“Alright…” Saina said reluctantly.
“Not even Bastian,” Breck added fiercely.
Saina’s eyebrows knit in elegant confusion. “Look, I know the staff will tease you about it, but they won’t—”
“No one!” Breck was sitting up now, looking her urgently in the eyes. Too many people knew already, and he didn’t want any more pity that he already had. Worse, the others might try to figure out who she was and make some futile attempt to solve a problem they didn’t understand the messy details behind.
Saina stared at him in silent surprise. “Alright,” she finally said. “I won’t mention it.”
“Thanks,” Breck said sullenly, sinking back into the couch with the game controller. “Much appreciated.”
When she looked like she might want to talk further, Breck put on the game headphones and tried to distract himself shooting zombies and hellhounds.
Chapter 23
By dinner, Darla had still not managed to get rid of the apron. She left it in her purse, but left her purse in her room, shoved beneath the edge of her bed.
“I thought I might sit with Liam tonight,” she suggested to her mother as they approached the restaurant and she caught sight of Liam sitting alone. The next night, they would begin the formal dinners; this was her last chance at anything that even resembled privacy.
Her mother, who was already greeting the newest arrivals, had no objection to this proposal, and looked at Darla’s wrist suggestively as they parted. The bracelet was dull metal.
Liam smiled warmly as she sat opposite him and let the server put a napkin in her lap and tell her the menu. “You look lovely,” he said sincerely.
Darla smiled wanly in reply. “I’ve spent enough time in the spa today that I ought to,” she said.
She spent the meal tensely listening to the conversations around them and picking at the food on her plate, making dutiful conversation with Liam as she wondered where Breck was and what he was doing.
“Would you like to go out for a walk?” Liam invited unexpectedly. “Assuming that you aren’t any more interested in the dessert than you were the filet.”
Darla looked down at her picked-over steak and put her fork down, only just realizing that Liam had been no more interested in his delectable meal than she had been in hers. “That would be lovely,” she said sincerely, feeling guilty. Was she so wrapped up in her own concerns and needs that she hadn’t noticed that her friend was suffering, too?
They were stopped no less than five times trying to escape the restaurant, by distant relatives or society friends who wanted to congratulate the happy couple and exclaim over what a lovely pair they made.
At last they were alone in the night, the chatter of the diners dying behind them to the drone of the tropical night noises and the whisper of the ocean. Liam took her hand, strong fingers twining with hers and Darla’s throat tightened thinking how badly she wished they were someone else’s.
“Darla,” Liam said, when they had made their way down the stairs past the bar and down again to the pool deck overlooking the beach. “We’ve got to figure out something better than this. This is worse than my worst fear when we agreed to do this. You knew I wouldn’t be able to be what you needed... and you’re so miserable I can’t bear it.”
“Have I done such a terrible job of hiding it?” Darla asked, not bothering to try to deny it.
“Maybe not with everyone else, but I know you a little,” Liam reminded her. “And your mate… Darla, you must be in agony.”
Darla was keenly aware that someone looking down over the restaurant deck might see… if not their faces, the poses of their bodies, leaning together on the railing looking out over the ocean. Did they look like lovers eagerly anticipating their nuptials? Did they look like friends trying to make the best of a sticky situation? Did she look like someone who wanted a little to jump off the pool deck and see if the fall to the beach would kill her or only hurt a lot?
The thought drew her back in alarm. She’d never had such a dire thought before. She felt like her brain wasn’t her own, like she was losing control. “It’s… terrible,” she admitted in a whisper. “I feel like I’m inside out, like nothing makes the slightest bit of sense. Like I’m in a toboggan heading down a mountain of broken glass going impossibly fast. I only feel better when I’m near him, even if we… can’t.”