by Eva Chase
“I appreciate the vote of support,” I said, summoning as much dryness as I could, “but my father knows exactly what he’s doing. I’m in the pentacle because I was his only heir, not because he liked me for the job.”
“At this point, he’d be an idiot to upend everything,” Malcolm muttered.
Declan was watching me carefully. “Is that all it’s been? The insinuation that he might remove you as heir? If you left because he was actively attacking you in some way—”
I shook my head. “No. It was nothing like that.”
“Well.” He paused. “I suppose no one can control what he decides for the Killbrooks other than him. But I agree with Malcolm that it doesn’t seem like a wise move at all. If it does come to that—you know we’re not going to push you aside, don’t you? If the situation escalates, whether you’re the official heir or not, we’ll stand up for you. Taking away a title doesn’t change what we’ve been through together.”
As I blinked at him, trying to stop a fresh wave of surprise from showing, Malcolm nodded his head with a jerk. “You’re part of our pentacle. Fuck him. You need backup, you just have to say the word.”
My throat constricted. I wouldn’t have thought anything these guys could say would get to me—but then, I’d never have thought they’d express sentiments like that to begin with. Apparently they’d seen me as more than just a sometimes irritating source of witty remarks.
What would they say if they’d known my presence in the pentacle of scions had been a lie all along, though? Would the loyalty they were announcing now survive that? Somehow I found it hard to believe.
I didn’t think Declan had used that insight skill of his on me, but those alert eyes saw too much on their own sometimes. Something in my reaction must have struck him as off. His brow knit for a second.
“Unless…” he said slowly. “Do you want out of the barony?”
Panic clanged through my body. That was too close, rubbing right up against the full truth that would change everything about the way they looked at me. “That’d make me the idiot, wouldn’t it?” I said with a laugh that came out stiffly. “What the hell would I do with myself then?”
Declan didn’t look horrified by the idea, only concerned—about me. “I’m not saying there’d be anything wrong with that. Lord knows there are days… You have a right to decide how you spend your life.”
Not really. Not from the moment my false father had convinced my mother to carry another man’s child for his own security. Not when my mere existence was treason.
I lost my tongue for an instant, and then I was scrambling to my feet as if that would help me find it.
“I didn’t ask to have my mind dissected,” I snapped, which probably wasn’t fair, but at least it gave me an excuse for an abrupt exit. “Obviously we’ve covered everything actually important that we’re going to talk about.”
I marched to the door. “Jude,” Malcolm called after me, but I just walked faster—up the stairs, down the hall, into the library where I didn’t expect they’d look for me if they happened to come searching.
My feet carried me on what seemed like an aimless path until I arrived in an aisle between two of the tall shelves in the mages-only section. I’d sat across from Rory here once. Teased her about her reading material. Managed to make her laugh.
I eased down to the floor in the spot where I’d sat then, remembering her startled grin. I was good for that—for making that girl happy. Why the hell couldn’t that be enough to build a life around? Why did I have to care what any of the other scions thought of me?
Closing my eyes, I tipped my head back against the shelf behind me. The uneven spines of the books pressed against my skull and the smell of old paper filled my nose. Then my phone chimed with an incoming text.
It was Declan. I’m sorry, he’d written. I shouldn’t have pushed, especially with a difficult subject like that.
That was decent of him, anyway. I wavered and then wrote back, Apology accepted. Hopefully I didn’t need to tell him that I’d rather he steered clear of that subject in the future.
Are you free to talk a little more right now? he sent next. There’s something I wanted to discuss in regards to Rory.
A jitter of a different sort of panic ran down my spine. Were the barons acting against her again after all? Why hadn’t he led with that?
I typed out my answer as fast as my thumbs would fly. Of course. What’s going on?
Chapter Ten
Rory
The text from Declan simply asked me to come out to the garage. I walked over, my shoes dampening in the morning dew, with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. Knowing Declan, it was more likely he wanted to see me about something serious than anything else. The garage was an odd choice, though. Did he need to take me somewhere to show me evidence of more of the barons’ wrongdoings or to find something that could help Connar?
I stepped into the dim concrete space to find not just Declan but also Jude and Malcolm standing around the Ashgrave scion’s Honda. From the sly grin on Jude’s face and the slow smile that crept across Malcolm’s at the sight of me, this might not have anything to do with business at all.
“What’s this about?” I asked with an arch of my eyebrows as I reached them.
Declan studied me for a moment as if waiting to see if I’d clue in—to what, I had no idea. Then he gave me a crooked smile of his own and said, “Happy birthday.”
I stared at him. “What? My birthday’s in…”
I faltered, realizing I couldn’t actually make a statement about that with any certainty. Mom and Dad had always celebrated my birthday in mid-November, more than a month from now, but they couldn’t have known when I’d actually been born. They must have just made their best guess based on how old I’d appeared to be.
“It’s in the barons’ records,” Declan said gently.
“It never occurred to me to look it up,” I admitted. My mother hadn’t mentioned anything yesterday—but then, she might not have known she needed to tip me off. Maybe yesterday’s dinner had been meant as a birthday celebration and I’d simply missed the cues. “Wow. Okay. So I’m twenty now.”
“A whole four months older than me,” Jude said with a playful tsk of his tongue. “Turns out you’re quite the cradle-robber.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but I couldn’t stop the corners of my lips from twitching upward. “Is this my surprise party, then?”
“Something like that,” Malcolm said. “You were talking about getting away from campus the other day. I know it would have been better with all four of us… but we’ll do our best to make up for that. My present is the little talk I had with Ms. Grimsworth yesterday evening to get us out of today’s classes. We have the whole day.”
“We wanted you to know that we’re all here for you through this, no matter what,” Declan added.
A bittersweet pang ran through me at the sentiment and the thought of the scion who wasn’t with us, but my pulse sped up with an eager beat at the same time. It would be so nice to get away from all the pressures of this place. “Where are we going?”
“That’s my present. You’ll see when we get there.” Declan motioned to the car.
“My present is in the trunk,” Jude informed me as we got into the backseat together. “No peeking.”
“I’m surprised you’re lowering yourself to riding in a regular sedan,” I teased. His Mercedes was one of his most beloved possessions, and he’d fawned over my Lexus more than once.
Jude chuckled and reached across the seat to take my hand. “I’m willing to make occasional concessions to my dignity. This arrangement means I get to sit here with you.”
Malcolm let out a snort. Jude kicked the back of his seat in retaliation. “It could have been you if you didn’t insist on sitting up front, Your Highness.”
“It might not be the flashiest ride ever, but I’d still appreciate it if we can get there with my car in one piece,” Declan said, sounding amused.
I settled back into the seat with a rare sense of contentment washing over me. This might not be exactly how I’d have wanted to spend a day with the scions, without Connar and not knowing when we’d have him by our side again, but there was something a little magical about being surrounded by these guys and their friendly hassling, with all the familiarity I could feel in it. They really were a sort of family, closer than maybe they were with their siblings by blood.
And I was a part of that family now too. I definitely preferred spending the day in their company to being constantly on my toes around my birth mother.
I kept my hand around Jude’s as Declan drove the car down the road out of campus. He turned west in town, taking a route I’d never been down before. I studied the signs and buildings we passed for some sort of clue.
The guys were all keeping very quiet about their secret. Malcolm told a story about a ridiculously over-ambitious spell a classmate had attempted—and flubbed—in his last Physicality seminar, which set Jude off on a tangent about the most embarrassing illusions he’d seen cast. Declan pitched in comical stories of student spells he’d read historical records of.
It hardly felt as if a whole hour had passed when the Ashgrave scion turned down a narrow, shadowed drive between leaning trees. The lane meandered on for another five minutes before ending at a simple wooden gate. Declan got out and pressed his hand to the side of the gate so it would swing open.
“This is one of your family’s properties?” I asked him as he drove us through onto the grounds. “You never told me you had one this close to school.”
He let out a wry laugh. “I forgot it was here. This… used to be one of my mother’s favorite spots to come and center herself. Somehow, the way my dad used to describe it, I ended up thinking it wasn’t much more than a little cabin in the woods. I stopped by the other day just to see how it’s been kept up and realized it’s a little more extensive than that.”
The Ashgraves were, after all, still a barony. He parked at the edge of a neatly trimmed glade surrounded by fading fall flowers. A delicately sweet scent hung in the air as we stepped out. A gazebo stood at the far end of the glade next to a sparkling stream that burbled softly by. A small stone bridge led over that to a log-lined building that could have been called a cabin, although it was more on par with the fancy ski chalets I’d seen pictures of.
Jude had hopped out and was already opening up the trunk. He pulled out an immense basket and a blanket, shooting me a grin. “I seem to recall that you’re a picnic fan.”
The first sort-of date we’d ever gone on had been a picnic he’d arranged. I hadn’t been sure what to make of his overtures back then. Remembering that outing, from the banter I hadn’t realized was covering up so many fears to the way he’d accepted my criticism and offered an honest apology, brought a swell of emotion into my chest.
“I seem to recall you’re very good at supplying them,” I said, beaming back at him, which turned his expression twice as bright.
The other guys helped spread out the blanket, which was more than big enough for the four of us, and we each took a corner with the basket in the middle. Jude laid out the contents with pride and an announcement of each one. “Lemonade and beers. Roast duck legs. Prawn-filled rolls. Deviled eggs. Wild rice salad. Fruit salad. Ginger cookies. And of course, lemon tarts.” He caught my eyes. “Happy birthday. I paid close attention to what you went for the most last time.”
He had indeed. My mouth was already watering. Even Malcolm looked impressed.
“What are we waiting for, then?” I snatched up one of the deviled eggs, and the guys took my cue to dig in too.
Every dish was delicious, the perfect mix of savory and sweet, creamy and spicy. I had no idea where Jude had procured the stuff—I couldn’t imagine he’d turned to the Killbrooks’ chef now that he’d moved out of his father’s home—but I wasn’t going to risk embarrassing him by asking. I was happy enough to immerse myself in the symphony of flavors.
Far too soon, I was licking the last traces of lemon tart filling from my fingers. Malcolm leaned back on one hand, draining his beer. Jude tossed the bone from the final duck leg into its container, and I lay back on the blanket. The crisp but warm autumn breeze washed over me.
“Well, this has already been a very excellent birthday,” I said.
“It could get better,” Declan said. “You haven’t seen what’s inside yet. Why don’t you relax, and I’ll get everything set up that the staff couldn’t handle in advance?”
Intriguing. I resisted the urge to tag along to see exactly what he was getting up to. My full belly would appreciate the time to digest anyway.
Malcolm sprawled out with his head by my feet, tucking his hand around my calf with a stroke of his thumb. Jude ran his fingers over my hair in a soft caress. I settled more deeply into the blanket. Maybe I should look into having birthdays more often. Once a month sounded nice.
Declan’s shoes whispered over the grass as he returned. “Capable of moving yet?”
“I think curiosity will be enough motivation.” I pushed myself up, and we all helped pack up the remains of the picnic. After we’d returned the basket and blanket to the trunk, Declan led the way to the “cabin.”
Warmth and a woody scent washed over me as we stepped inside. The place had the feel of an elegant ski chalet too. Leather sofas with a faint patina surrounded a wool rug in front of a crackling fireplace. A lilting instrumental melody carried from speakers I couldn’t see.
“The Ashgraves have apparently used this space mainly as a meditation retreat and spa of sorts,” Declan said, leading us through the room. “There’s a dry sauna and a steam room around back, and also this.”
He opened a sliding glass door at the other end of the room. Currents of heat mixed with cool outdoor air in the screened-in sunroom on the other side. The wooden boards of the floor surrounded a pool maybe ten feet square, its water bubbling from jets beneath the surface and gleaming with wall-mounted lights.
Jude let out an approving whistle. “Now that’s a hot tub. I won’t say no to an after-lunch soak.”
It did look incredibly appealing. But— “I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” I said automatically.
Jude waggled his eyebrows at me. “Suits have no place in a hot tub anyway. If you’re not going nude, there’s no point.” He reached to strip off his shirt without hesitation.
A different sort of heat tickled over my skin at the thought. He and Declan had seen me naked before, and after the interlude we’d shared in his hotel room last week, Malcolm might as well have. What did I have to be shy about?
I reached for the zipper at the back of my dress. Malcolm moved to my side. “I can help with that,” he said in a voice that sent a tingle straight to my core. A streak of anticipation shot down my back with the motion of his hand.
He drew back to pull off his own shirt and slacks. I kicked off my shoes and tugged my dress over my head. Jude hadn’t wasted any time, already tossing his boxers into the heap with the rest of his clothes. I couldn’t help admiring his lean body in the few seconds before he leapt into the water.
He went under and came up with a blissful sigh. “Oh, this is the life. Maybe I’ll just move in here if you’re not really using this place, Declan. What are you all waiting for, you slowpokes?”
I scrambled out of my undergarments as quickly as I could, trying not to feel self-conscious, and slipped in at the side of the pool. The hot water enveloped me. There was a ledge along the side of the pool that let me stand in it up to my shoulders—farther out, Jude treaded water where it must have been over his head. Bubbles gushed against my side from one of the jets.
Declan and Malcolm slid in too, before I could really ogle either of them. Malcolm crossed the pool with a couple powerful strokes and propped his arms along the side. Declan stayed next to me, the water lapping around his slim but toned chest.
“I definitely regret not coming out this way sooner,” he said.
“Y
ou were probably too busy working yourself into the ground,” I suggested.
“Yeah. That does seem to be a common theme.” He shot me a smile. “No work today, though.”
“Mmm.” I shifted to the side so the jet would massage my back, which conveniently brought me nearer to him as well. The shifting of the water against my naked body was heating me up more than I could blame on the spa. “Any other particular ways you were thinking of staying occupied?”
A gleam lit in his bright hazel eyes as he gazed down at me. “I can think of a few.”
He dipped his head to kiss me, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. The knowledge that there was nothing between us but a few inches of water—not even a shred of clothing—gave the meeting of our mouths an electric zing.
It hadn’t been very long since Declan had started to feel comfortable kissing me at all, let alone with witnesses. But he wanted me, loved me, enough that he’d decided it’d be more painful holding himself back than having to part ways when we needed to think more seriously about our futures.
The tang of the lemonade he’d drunk lingered on his lips. I kissed him harder, my fingers tracing over his bicep, and the currents shifted around me. Another hand, not Declan’s, touched my waist.
“Getting started on the real celebration, I see,” Jude murmured. As he leaned in to press his own mouth to my neck, his fingers skimmed up over my ribs to trace the side of my breast. I reached back and urged him closer to me. In that moment, all I wanted was to feel encompassed by the guys who’d come to mean so much to me and who’d shown with this day and so many other things how much I mattered to them.
Jude’s hand teased over the curve of my flesh until his thumb grazed my nipple. The shiver of pleasure made me whimper against Declan’s lips. The Ashgrave scion cupped my other breast with a swivel of his fingers over the peak. My next breath turned into a gasp.
