“I have a dream that I’ll be able to open my own café someday. The only place I’ve ever really been comfortable is in a kitchen. I think maybe it’s because I started my magical journey with potion-making, and that kind of translated to cooking. I want to make enchanted cookies and coffee syrups for Lakesedge.”
Pausing, I let the yearning sweep over me. When I closed my eyes, I had a vision for a cozy café that was all mine. While I loved Bad Moon Café, it belonged to Audra Miura. It was her creation, her territory. I craved my own. I would fill it with plants and wooden furniture and colorful pillows.
A simple life. That was all I really wanted. No more fighting, just whipped cream and sugar. Was that too much to ask for? If I never saw blood again, I would be happy.
Rhoan pushed a curl away from my face. I startled and jerked away from him. My heart thumped inside my chest. It wanted to break free of my chest and run for safety. It was just Rhoan, though. He wasn’t going to hurt me…I didn’t think.
Was I foolish to trust him? According to Feri, Rhoan had taken a vow to protect my family. I’d been banking on that, but I’d never stopped to question if maybe he had a grudge against my family for all he’d been through because of them. He could be waiting for the right moment to—
My paranoia was getting the best of me. If Rhoan wanted me dead, he could have left me on the kitchen floor last night. My flying ointment could have finished me off for him. Or he could have used my weakened state to his advantage.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice small as shame curled through my stomach.
Rhoan pressed his lips into a grim line and took a step back before nodding. His silence spoke volumes, but I didn’t know how to tell him that everything scared me lately. Maybe the crossbow bolt to the chest the other night was telling enough.
The warrior looked towards the boarded-up windows. He grabbed a pancake loaded with fruit, folded it in half, and shoved it in his mouth without taking his eyes off the boards. As he chewed, he lifted his chin in the windows’ direction.
“Since you get a lot of unwelcome company, I’m going to go out and do a perimeter sweep.” He carefully set his cleared plate into the sink so as to not make too much noise.
My heart ached for the man. I couldn’t like him. No, I wasn’t going to allow it. Even if he’d noticed my skittish behavior and adjusted his own to accommodate me.
Feri climbed onto the counter after Rhoan left. The ferret snatched up a strawberry and a blueberry, the fruit huge in his little paws.
“Rhoan will be good for you. You can trust him. A vow is for life among the fae. Should he break it, there would be magical consequences.” Feri nodded before shoving the strawberry into his sharp-toothed maw.
I gave the rodent the side-eye. Curious, I moved towards the window over my kitchen sink and stood on my toes to peer outside. The dark-haired fae warrior stalked across the patch of grass between this building and the next. He scanned the area with a grim expression twisting his face.
I hated to admit it, but he was still beautiful. He must have been glorious on the battlefield. I wondered if he missed it. Did he dream of fighting? Was this life boring for him? He moved like a predator with careful, precise steps that gave away his life as a fighter.
If he wanted to go back to war, he would have to look elsewhere. I wasn’t going to give him the fight he wanted. There would be no battle between Beryl and myself because I wasn’t going to subscribe to this fantasy that he and Feri wanted for me.
Okay, so Rhoan hadn’t asked me to fight Beryl.
Yet.
It was only a matter of time. I was convinced that was the only reason he kept saving me. Rhoan saw me only as a princess. He didn’t see the woman who’d lived among wolf shifters her entire life, who wanted her own café and a peaceful existence.
He and Feri likely saw me as a tool. I wasn’t going to have it.
If I went to Beryl, then I could trap her in a deal. I just had to make sure that I worded it correctly. I grabbed a notebook and dragged it over to the table so I could sit down with my pancakes. Twirling my pen between my fingers, I began wording my deal.
It took several revisions, striking out words or phrases that could be misconstrued, to get it right. By the end, I was sure that I had a pretty viable deal. Beryl had to buy into it. If she didn’t, then I would remain a threat in her eyes.
Would she rather have me dead? Probably, but this was an option that I couldn’t pass up if I was going to get my peaceful life. A happy ending likely wasn’t in the works for me. I could tell from my dreams that my fate threads were twisted.
Every night, when I closed my eyes, I saw myself die a different way. Every death was at Beryl’s hands. She grinned triumphantly every time. Even now, if I rested my eyes, I could see her Cheshire smile. I pressed my hand to my chest where she’d ripped my heart out. It’d been a dream, but it’d felt so real.
Was I getting a glimpse into other timelines? Addie had done something. She’d reached into fate itself and changed the course of the future. What if she’d managed to fray my thread and split it into a hundred different timelines? I shuddered to think how this one might end if all the others were this bloody.
“What are you writing?” an unfamiliar voice asked over my shoulder.
Shrieking, I leapt out of my seat. My notebook flew through the air. Sheets of paper rained down like fat snow. A fae man grinned up at me. He leaned on the back of my now-vacant chair with his forearms on the back of it.
I knew this man. I’d seen him around town. He worked for a deli in town. Ness had dealt with him a couple of times; she’d claimed that he was a good man each time. Now, the ash-brown-haired fae man wore a devilish grin while invading my home.
My lip curled. Arcana slipped through my feet and into the floor. If he made the slightest move, I was going to wrap him in woody vines and pin him to the floor. I wasn’t in the mood to be toyed with today.
When he pulled away from the chair and bent, I didn’t strike. I hesitated. He didn’t look like he was going to attack. If anything, he seemed far too relaxed. The fae man plucked a piece of paper from the floor and read it.