Viola flattened a hand over her churning stomach. Upon her escape from her mother’s gilded cage, she’d been unprepared for the rest of the world. She’d fallen for the first boy to smile at her, easily parted with her virginity, and woke up alone and forgotten. Used. The pattern had continued, eroding an already fragile sense of self-worth.
She’d been a shell of her former self when she’d found Fluffy, injured and abandoned by his kind. She’d doctored and raised him. Again and again, he’d proven his loyalty to her, risking his life to save hers. How dare Brochan think his loved one mattered more than hers?
Voices carried from the throne room, and she picked up speed, gliding through the open double doors.
The trio stood around a table positioned in the center of the room, the top littered with scrolls and maps. Her churning worsened. Once again, the group had opted to exclude her.
“—ambush here, here and here in unison,” Brochan was saying, tapping a claw on different locations of a map. As if he sensed her presence, he flipped up his gaze. His jaw went slack, his horns standing straight up. A sign of excitement. Or maybe aggression. Those silvery irises blazed, sending shivers down her spine.
“Who do you plan to ambush?” she asked.
“Farrow spied one of the warriors we burned.” He looked her over and gulped. “They live on.”
Narcissism attempted to speak, but her delight drowned out the fiend’s voice.
Her ferocious male towered so tall and proud, wearing a plain white T-shirt and black leathers. The perfect complement to his lovely cerulean skin. His dark hair stood on end, and his wings rippled with hostility. Why had she never taken the time to caress every inch of them?
A mystery to solve later. Let’s do this.
Gliding forward, she pasted on a smile. “Thank you so very much for assembling and awaiting my arrival.”
McCadden bristled, and Farrow stiffened. Probably with envy. No one commanded a room better than Viola.
Brochan white-knuckled the table while tracking her every move. “Do you need something, goddess?”
“Many things. All of which are owed to me. Shall I remind you of our bargain, beast? I’m happy to explain the minute details to our guests, if you’d like, but one way or another, the conversation is taking place now.”
A muscle jumped under his eye before he nodded. “Leave us,” he said to McCadden and Farrow.
The Fallen One protested but obeyed, while the Forsaken glowered and flashed away.
Brochan moved to a backless chair at the foot of the table and eased down as if he carried a heavy weight and needed relief. “Talk.”
She bent to pet Fluffy’s precious head and kiss his little snout. “Return to the bedroom, darling. If Brochan is a good boy, Mommy will reward him greatly.”
Eyes glittering with disgust, he vanished in a hurry.
Brochan sat up straighter. “Why did you name him Fluffy?”
As if he cared. No doubt he merely stalled. Even still, she told him, “The years I spent locked inside my mother’s secret home, I read to occupy my time,” she explained as she straightened. “My favorite story revolved around a magical teddy bear named Princess Fluffikans.”
Brochan flinched and rubbed the spot over his heart.
Interesting reaction. Swishing her hips, Viola closed the rest of the distance, swept a pile of papers to the floor, and hopped onto the table directly in front of him.
“Let me guess. You’re here for the removal of the cuff,” he said, a hitch in his voice.
“Among other things.”
“You also expect me to adore you.”
“I do, yes.” Bracing her arms behind her, she reclined at a slight angle. The slits in her skirt allowed her to place one foot on each arm of his chair. “But only because you do, in fact, adore me.”
He wrapped his hands around her ankles with a stronger grip than she’d expected. Tremors migrated from him to her. “I…might,” he admitted.
A shock strong enough to wrench the truth from her. “I desire a real chance with you. I like being with you. I like you. And I suspect I’ll really like being with you when I’m here of my own volition. Wouldn’t you like that? Knowing I’m here because I want to be, not because I’m compelled?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, his long lashes casting spiky shadows over his cheeks. He breathed deeply, his body emitting great waves of strain.
Hope surged. She pressed her advantage. “In return for the cuff’s removal, I have a marvelous idea to ensure McCadden’s immortality. It’s not a trip to Nevaeh, but it does buy your brother some time.”
His brows dropped low over his eyes. “Why won’t you give me the key?”
“Hand it over so you can shack up with another woman?” She scoffed. “Don’t be such a child.”
His jaw went slack. “You’re…jealous of Farrow?”
Her? Jealous? She sucked air between her teeth. “How dare you? Do you even know how ridiculous you sound? Why, I’ve never been jealous of anyone or anything a single second of my life. I’m far too perfect!”