by LJ Swallow
“You're a very intense man,” I tell him. “Ty wasn't.”
He sighs. “I think that night is best forgotten about, don't you?”
No. “Okay.”
Each time we meet, that night stands between us, unspoken about, but it's no secret, we both want to revisit it. This is impossible, not only because Mattias is a Hyland, but also because he isn't Ty, and he is closed off not only from me but also from everybody around him.
I threw myself at him once, I won't again, and if that's where he gets his kicks, he'll need to look elsewhere.
In a drop of his calm front, Mattias drags a hand through his hair and swears again. Waiting for his reaction proves pointless; he walks away.
I leave the library shortly afterwards, not wanting to be caught near Mattias by anybody. Suspicion rests on everybody right now, from maids and chauffeurs, to humans and witches. Even children. Sides are being drawn.
9
Declan crosses his arms and pouts at me. “So?”
I adjust the strap on yet another formal dress. This time I've taken the lead from the other girls and opted for a short black dress, although not as tight or short as theirs. Past my knees. No cleavage. Another Gathering, this time at the Hyland house, and I told my parents there is no way I'm going alone. They're not impressed I spend this much time with Declan. This witch isn't interested in marrying me, and they want me to find another.
“So, what?” I ask.
“You and Mattias Hyland. And don't deny it. I know he's the guy you saw. Ty, Mattias. Isn't difficult to figure out.”
“The other night was the second time I'd seen him, and I had no idea who he was. Nobody knew what the Hylands looked like.”
“Uh huh.” Declan opens his family car's passenger door and gestures for me to climb in.
I lower my voice and glance at the driver. “Did you know what the brothers looked like before we saw them for the first time? No. Mattias played a game with me. That’s all. I bet he thinks it's hilarious.”
“Good thing you stopped, then.” Declan nudges me. “Or did you? Can he kiss? Was it really just—”
“Declan! No. And I want to forget about it. I'm embarrassed, and the more people who know, the more humiliating it will be.”
“You haven't seen him again?” He clutches his chest. “The secret affair between the Hyland and the Scion-who-wouldn't.”
“Don't take the piss! It was nothing.”
“If he wanted you, you'd have no choice,” remarks Declan. “You'd have to marry him.”
“Firstly, he doesn't, and secondly I wouldn't,” I snap
“Sometimes, I think you need to open your eyes to the world you live in. You're strong, smart, and know what you want. But, Cora, you're human and a woman. And a Scion. You really have little control over your life.”
“You're wrong.”
“We have to accept we're not going to have the life we want.”
I chew the inside of my mouth to prevent a retort. Here it is again, Declan giving up. I don't need to, or like to be, reminded about the position women hold in the Othala world. None work as Senate member or ever will be. Some Houses contain powerful witches on the female line, but they're subdued, and their husbands warned to pull them into line.
What pisses me off the most is people accept this, and those who don't disappear. Everybody who disagrees with anything disappears—under their own free will or forced, who knows?
I turn to one side and stare out of the window as the car pulls away, annoyed at his teasing. The new distance between Declan and me grows daily, and it hurts. We're not school buddies against the cliques anymore; we're stepping into our roles and away from who we were. Secrets never existed between us, but for the first time in my life, I can't share with Declan what's happening. His words the other night made that crystal clear. Is it bad the reason isn't just that I'm concerned Declan will be implicated, but because he's a reminder of what I'm losing now my life's changing?
Declan doesn't broach the topic again, and the short drive through the Enclave passes in awkward silence.
The wrought iron gates swing open, but I know they're just for show. The air shimmers with the same magic barrier as used in the sector to keep out the ravager abominations. These are the cause of the sector's creation in the first place and responsible for our protection by the Othala.
The car drives at a walking pace up the hill to the house on the crest. I look back at the barely perceptible magical barrier shimmering in the air, like oil-spills across water, shifting in clouds. The Hyland place is bigger than I expected. If you picked up this building and dropped it in the sector, two streets would disappear. The grounds are bordered by tall evergreen trees, and men patrol the perimeter.
Talk about security... Everywhere I look, there're men I don't recognise in an obvious warning to anyone attending to not try anything out of the ordinary unless they want decorating with bullet holes. I've no idea if they actually have guns, probably, but if not, I'm sure they could break a neck or two easily. They scrutinise every guest who arrives, and my smile and hello is ignored. Our names are recorded, and we're directed to the rear of the house. My stomach flips as we approach the house. What will Mattias say to me tonight? I focus on Declan's enthusing over how amazing the house is and allow him to escort me to the door.
White balustrades line the red-bricked property’s front, sparkling lights wound around edging the look from formal to party. Security stand close to the double doors leading inside, and I have visions of everyone who enters being monitored. I’ll stick with outside and the marquee spanning the lush green lawn instead. Music and people already fill the grounds, the excitement filling the air. Events are rarely held at the Hyland Estate, the family hidden from view, especially when their children are young.
Were Alaric and Mattias lonely growing up? I’m no “people person,” but did they have any friends at all? I don’t have any siblings but can imagine a lifetime stuck with one might lead to animosity whether or not one of you rules the sector.
Thankful no parents were invited to this Gathering and that the alcohol remains flowing freely, I take the opportunity to sit alone with Declan on the terrace. We both make small talk and stare at our shoes a lot, until he finally breaks the silence.
“Sorry.”
“'S'okay.”
We glance at each other and burst into laughter. “Oh, Cora.” Declan wraps an arm around me and rests his head on mine. “This world is fucked.”
I run a finger around the rim of my glass and shift to rest my head on his shoulder. “Why?”
“You know why.”
“The things you don’t like me talking about?” I ask.
“Yeah. My dad’s uneasy. He’s happy to maintain the status quo but sides are being drawn. People are scared of him.”
“He can only have the power people give him,” I reply.
“He’s a Hyland,” says Declan with a snort. “He takes what he wants. That’s the problem.”
I put my fingers to my lips. “Shh.”
Alaric's position as Regent is several weeks in, and the Enclave holds its collective breath against his first move. Something bothers me, which shouldn't. Mattias knows his brother's character and no doubt his plans, yet he stands back. Why did his father choose his younger son, Alaric, when Mattias should rightly have been Regent. Does Mattias care? If he’s bothered, Mattias is very subtle because there's no atmosphere between them as far as I can tell. Not that I know the man, perhaps he is plotting with others to depose his brother.
Mattias passed me a couple more times in the library and nodded hello, but nothing else. Each time I wait for him to return from his books, the strange queasiness distracting me because I'm aware he's close by. He no longer looks at me. I passed him in the hallway once, and again a nod and nothing else. My fantasy that Mattias would take over the sector and my heart are equally delusional. The man may look like he could take on the world, but he hides from it.
Alari
c smirks at me whenever we cross paths and makes a point of saying hello to one of the nearby “suits” who unsubtly follow me around for a couple of days after Alaric saw me with Mattias. Why the hell am I in the spotlight?
“About the marriage thing. Us. Maybe we should,” I say.
Declan sighs. “I did give that some serious thought, but it's unfair, Cora. You deserve a man who'll love you.”
“Are you saying you don't love me?” I poke him in the side and pout.
“Of course I do, but you want a man who's passionate about you.” He pauses. “Not a sexless marriage. We can't do that to each other.”
“But it would help you too.”
Declan drains his glass. “Perhaps it is the route I'll choose, but not with you.”
I fight back the tears brought on by the fear for my future. What if I have to take this option too? Some witches are attractive guys, but I want a man who'll blind me to the rest of the world by his passion for us. A guy who will lavish me with attention until I fall desperately in love with him. Not a man who'll hand me a ring and a house because he's run out of more suitable alternatives.
“How's the magic going?”
I snap my head around at his words. “What?”
“Your magical studies. Learnt how to turn obnoxious witches into frogs yet?”
“I do not get my magic from fairy tales, Declan. Don't tease me. And it's years since I tried anything.”
“I hope so, because that's one thing I think our dear leader will crackdown on. Humans trying to learn magic.”
“Well, I'm a good example of how it's not possible,” I mutter and kick at the grass in front of me.
He jumps down from the low wall we're sitting on and holds out a hand. “I reckon we should dance in the middle of the marquee and eavesdrop on the beautiful people.”
I wrap my fingers around his. “I don't know what I'd do without you in my life.”
His mouth turns down, and he touches my face. “I'll always be there. Even when you marry your handsome witch.”
“I said...” But the words carry on the breeze behind him as he runs across the grass, dragging me behind. The air rushes past my cheeks, and I close my eyes. Live in the moments I have and don't focus on the ones I might not.
The white marquee is adorned with lights and flowers, the subtle jasmine scent filling the space. Empty glasses and bottle of wine rest on tables arranged along the edges, the Enclave’s beautiful people milling around or dancing. The summer afternoon heats the air inside and the music joins in overwhelming the senses.
Even if I'd wanted to speak to the Hylands, I wouldn't be able to. They’re bordered by guards, towards the marquee’s rear, obscured from view by girls vying for attention.
Declan sweeps me onto the floor, and we take the stance learned in the classes we were forced to take at school for occasions like this. I secretly enjoy the easy pattern we create. I can relax with Declan and go with the flow. He marvels over how I can close my eyes and not trip over my feet, but he's a good dancer too. I don't need to worry about losing the momentum.
We snigger through a whispered run down of the couples passing by, dancing across the wooden floor placed beneath the tall white marquee for the evening. A band plays on a small stage beneath a white bower at the opposite end.
“I don't know why she's with him,” mutters Declan as a tall girl passes with a guy a foot shorter than she is. “He's out of her league.”
“But he's from the Terris house, and they've always been cosied up with the Hylands. She's marrying up a rung.”
“You're probably right. I see the lovely Laurel has her sights set on Alaric.”
“Her and half the Scions here. They're crazy.”
The group of girls around the brothers has thinned. Mattias rests against the edge of a long table, legs outstretched with a distance from here in his eyes I wish I had too. Whenever somebody approaches, he snaps out of whatever's on his mind and back to the consummate gentleman Hyland. His tie is missing and shirt unbuttoned at the top, the jacket nowhere near. Does he realise the edge this gives him and how many girls are distracted by the smooth muscled chest visible? I expect so.
Alaric's formal wear matches his aloof attitude to those around him. The girls flirt with him, and the small touches he gives in return send some into giggling fits. Once or twice I catch a different look on his face too, a disdain in his cold eyes.
I steer clear.
Declan attempts to leave the dance floor, and I grab his hand. “No, you don't.”
“I need a break and a drink.”
“And leave me defenceless?”
“Defenceless against who? I can't exactly see anybody willing to fight me for your affections.”
“Cheeky!”
I slap his arm and he flicks my nose. “I'm sure you'll cope.”
“Wait for me!” I protest as Declan weaves into the crowd. I edge around the dancing couples to the edge, in the same direction. The brothers stand close by with their security, and I steal a glance at them again. Mattias's blue eyes fix on mine long enough to kick my heart rate up a notch before he turns his head the other way. Alaric catches my eye too and beckons me over.
When I don't do as he's indicated, he points at me and whispers to a man next to him. Crap. I knew I shouldn't have bloody looked at them. Before anybody approaches me and a scene ensues, I join the simpering girls, delving for fawning words I'd rather not use.
“Hello. I apologise for not speaking to you yet. Thank you for inviting me tonight,” I say to Alaric.
“All the Scions were invited here tonight. No need to thank me. I see you have a suitor.” He leans in to whisper, “I guess I'll need to keep my hands off you now. Narrows the field, anyway.”
One of the girls adjusts her dress top downwards and Alaric smiles at her.
I give him a tight but hopefully gracious smile. “Yes. I'm very close to Declan.”
“They always were,” says Laurel. “They suit each other.”
The bitchy undertones don't miss me: because we're both ostracised by most. “Well, thank you for your hospitality,” I say to Alaric. “Both of you.” Mattias continues to stare into the distance, apparently unable to hear, or is ignoring me.
“A dance!” Alaric holds his arms out. “I'm dancing with all the Scions tonight, I can't leave you out.”
“Oh. Um. I'm okay. Laurel can have my dance.”
“Don't be silly, Cora. I'd love to dance with you.”
“Cora promised her next dance to me.” Alaric's mouth thins at his brother's smooth voice behind him. “Didn't you, Cora?”
I join several other girls in surprised staring at the man who's stood in silence through the whole exchange. He remains resting against the table, outstretched legs, preventing anybody drawing close enough to speak with him. This doesn't stop three girls nearest attempting to catch his interest.
Mattias stands and holds out a hand. Alaric continues to look at me, not his brother. I hesitate, the tension between the two men in this moment palpable. Alaric is Regent and, although he's his brother, Mattias shouldn't step in the way of anything Alaric wants to do.
“Maybe I should dance with Alaric first,” I suggest, although my desire for Mattias's touch is as strong as the aversion to Alaric’s.
“That's okay,” says Alaric and turns to Mattias. “You two seem close already. I wouldn't want to interfere.”
To most around, his acquiescence sounds gracious and friendly, the mock bow to me and smile enough to elicit giggles. To me, there's an undertone I can't explain that prickles my scalp.
I take Mattias's hand, and under inspection by the girls, he leads me to the dance floor. We stand face to face, and I hesitate, already suffering a butterfly attack that threatens to take over my brain too, and he's barely touched me. Dancing with Declan meant nothing. We’ve touched many times, and there has never been anything sexual. Not once have his hands on my skin, around my waist, or face close to mine as he whispered jokes,
aroused me. Just the thought of Mattias doing any floods heat through my blood.
In an official, respectful dance pose, Mattias holds my arm and his around my waist as we position ourselves to join the flow. People part to give us space, and for a frightening moment, I think we're about to be left alone. Mattias doesn't speak, holding my eyes in his gaze, the one that flips my world upside down. Add in the physical contact, and I'm about to hyperventilate.
“Why haven't you spoken to me for days?” I ask as we step around the floor.
“You have danced a lot tonight. You look quite pink.” The pink grows at Mattias's clever deflection of my question.
“I'm dancing with a Hyland and everybody is staring at me, that's why.”
“Yes?”
Mattias pulls me closer until my bare skin brushes his shirt's stiff cotton; not close enough to experience the warmth and strength beneath but enough to fire my imagination and arousal. His grip around my waist tightens, and I focus on maintaining the rhythm. I will not lose my skill from years forced to learn dancing and trip over a Hyland's feet.
“Is that the only reason?” Mattias's breath strokes my cheek as he says the words, and I catch the scent I associate with the night in the sector; his cologne’s subtle warmth, and him.
This isn't Ty. This is Mattias in his truest form. Dressed in an expensive suit, under scrutiny and desired by girls around him, not the man blending into his surroundings. But Mattias would never blend totally; men who possess the intoxicating mix he does never will. His muscular physique and sculpted features are accompanied by the self-assurance I came across that night. Perhaps his mysterious aura adds a brooding nature, one where girls crave to discover the man beneath.
Girls like me.
My spine stiffens as I resist relaxing into him. If I allow any closer contact with Mattias, my hyperventilation would lead to a collapse on the floor. As if aware, Mattias's hold on me strengthens, which doesn't help the images floating cross my mind—his mouth seeking mine, large hands running fingers across my skin. These images come straight from my dreams, sometimes even daydreams. In this moment, my infatuation with this man hit.
