I frowned, tamping down my recalcitrant thoughts, and put up my hand. I didn’t cast a spell but remained ready to throw one at him if necessary. “Stop right there.”
He did, which was good. I didn’t want to test my magic against that of the high warlock’s son. He’d been away a long time, but that didn’t mean he was rusty. He would be fully recharged now that he was home again, I was sure.
“What’s the matter, Monique?” His lips twisted with sardonic humor. “You’re not pleased to see me?”
“Pleased to see you?” I uncrossed my arms and placed my hands on my hips. “Hell no. The last time we spoke, you just said goodbye. I had no idea when you’d come home, if ever!”
I’d cried for a week after he’d left.
Michael had made it clear long ago that I was his choice for marriage, out of the females available in the magical realm we lived in. It wasn’t the biggest compliment since the competition for the position was slim. Technically, he hadn’t ever asked me if that was what I wanted. He stated that he’d marry me... if he ever returned.
At the time, thatifhad seemed pretty big. Like me, Michael had never enjoyed being locked inside this bubble, as pretty as it was. He’d told his parents—the high warlock and the high witch—of his decision to choose me, so he could call in his marker, should he ever come back. He just assumed I’d wait for him, forever if necessary. And then he’d left.
Maybe he’d been correct, back then. I was young, and I’d had a crush on the guy. But he had been gone a long time and I’d grown up since then.
Our unofficial betrothal hadn’t changed anything for me. Michael’s parents had still treated me like any other member of the coven, and Michael had sent me two letters the whole time he’d been gone. Nothing had been mentioned about a return, or about us.
Michael’s eyes lit up and a grin graced his perfect face. “Yes... that was because I didn’t want to restrict you.”
“You mean, you didn’t want to restrict yourself!” I spat. There weren’t any other boys my age in the realm. They were either older and already married, or ten years my junior. Michael had known that he could take as long as he liked and if he ever came home, I’d still be waiting. “You never even asked me if I wanted to marry you.”
He scoffed. “I didn’t think I needed to ask. You followed me around like a puppy-dog for years.”
Anger burned in my gut. The bastard. He had no idea who I was, or what I wanted.
“I wish you’d never come back.”
The door behind me opened and my wolves stalked into the room. The atmosphere changed straight away. They filled my half of the cottage with strength and heat and presence.
I smirked at Michael. I couldn’t help it.
His gaze narrowed, and anger flared in those dark eyes that I didn’t like.
I raised my hand and moved my fingers, adding reinforcements to my spell. “Don’t even think about hurting them.”
Michael raised a single eyebrow. “Would you do me the courtesy of introducing your lovers to me, Monique?”
I didn’t take my eyes off him. I didn’t trust him as far as I could magic him away.
A large body pressed against me from behind, and Xander’s arm slid around my waist in a possessive gesture that was hard to miss. Kyle stepped up to warm my other side.
“This is Xander.” I said, gesturing. “And Kyle.”
I held Michael’s steady gaze until he finally shifted his eyes and stared at the men.
“I’m Michael.” He spoke with a haughty head tilt.
Xander’s answering growl set the hairs on the back of my neck on end.
“Shall we all sit down?” Michael asked, taking off his long black jacket to reveal a silver-colored silk shirt and dark slacks that accentuated how tall and muscled he’d become.
Damn. Stop it. You’re not sixteen anymore.
“Yes. Let’s sit,” I said, taking Xander’s hand and guiding him to one of the sofas. Kyle followed closely and when I sat in the middle of the sofa, my wolves perched either side of me.
Michael waved his hand and magicked up a large throne for himself.
Seriously?