A Discovery of Secrets and Fate (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 2)

Pyke’s eyes flare, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far. Never trust a fae. They’re vain and egocentric. I’m surprised, however, when he tips his head back and barks out an appreciative laugh.

His eyes are shining as they come back to me. “I shall endeavor to be a gentleman, but if we’re going to provoke jealousy, you need to be a little closer.”

And before I can even utter any resistance, he’s pulled me in flush with his body and starts us whirling around the dance floor.

There’s no opportunity for me to pull away or ask him to loosen his hold as he has us moving so fluidly and with twirls that leave me breathless. I eventually have to settle into the dance and the delight of a man who makes this all effortless.

“So, Finley Porter,” Pyke says conversationally. “Seems like you’re the savior to the Earth realm, huh?”

“Carrick told you,” I surmise.

“He told me the basic background, and I offered my services to help in any way I can,” he replies smoothly.

“Why would you want to help?” I ask curiously. “This has nothing to do with Faere or the Light Fae. At least that we know of.”

Pyke shrugs, glancing around before bringing his eyes back to me. “Let’s just say I love a good adventure, and Carrick and I go way back.”

“Your help is obviously welcome,” I say carefully, not wanting to commit to anything without knowing exactly what Carrick told this man. I’m going to assume not everything as he wants to keep my feather a secret.

At that moment, Carrick and Deandra sail past us. It happens in a flash, yet there’s a moment that time seems to slow down as golden eyes meet my own. They darken to amber, and his face is a mask of granite. I tilt my head, wondering why he seems angry. Then he spins, time moves regularly, and I get just a flash of Deandra glaring at me hatefully before they’re gone.

“It’s working,” Pyke says in a singsong voice.

“What’s working?” I mutter, looking over my shoulder and trying to catch a glimpse of Carrick and Deandra. I can’t find them as the crowd is too thick, and Pyke is spinning me another way.

“You’ve totally made Carrick jealous,” Pyke announces proudly.

“I have done no such thing,” I retort with indignation.

“Well, then I made him jealous, which is the same thing, and it’s what’s needed.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I sputter, and then Pyke slows us down so abruptly that I go crashing into his chest. The music has slowed to a swaying beat, and Pyke uses my momentum to bring his arm possessively around my waist so he can hold me tight to his muscular body.

His hand tightens on mine, and he pulls it against his heart to rest. Dipping his head down, he puts his lips near my ear. “If I didn’t think Carrick would kill me, I’d dare to kiss you right now. But as it stands, I’m going to be lucky if he doesn’t punch me in about three—two—one—”

And then I’m jerked out of Pyke’s embrace and facing a furious Carrick.

“About fucking time.” Pyke laughs and claps Carrick on the shoulder. “Now, you two kids go dance and have a good time.”

My head is swirling as I have no clue what just happened. I look around for Deandra, wondering if she’s going to come and jerk Carrick back into her arms.

“Let’s go,” Carrick growls, taking my hand tightly in his. We start to move around the edge of the dance floor, Carrick pulling me along like I’m a wayward child.

It pisses me off and I jerk back against him, but to no avail.

“I think I know how to find my way back,” I snap at him from behind.

“Not about to let you walk around this place by yourself,” he barks back, then starts to move more briskly once we clear the floor. My heels immediately sink down into the unnaturally colored grass, and I almost trip.

“Slow down,” I demand, and Carrick instantly complies. I glance back over my shoulder, but I don’t see Pyke, Deandra, or their parents. I assume Carrick will come back to socialize after depositing me in my room, for this party is in his honor, after all. For now, he has to put his wayward human back in her cage.

Carrick confidently navigates the castle, whereas it probably would have taken me hours to find the wing and floor where my room is located. When we reach the door, he propels me through, finally releasing my hand.

I take a few stumbling steps, right myself, and turn to glare. “What is your problem?”

Carrick takes two long strides, barreling toward me fast, but I hold my ground. He comes toe to toe to me, dips his head, and says on a low rumble, “My problem is how Pyke was touching you, especially with you,”—and here he pauses and runs his gaze down the front of my body—“looking the way you do.”