I’ve seen so many things, been to far too many places, and had my pick of the most beautiful women for my pleasure, yet it all falls flat when compared to what I’ve got going on with Eliana.
The fool watching from the outside in would say she’s only exciting because she’s dangerous and off-limits.
It’s not that, though.
There’s a connection that defies reason, especially given we were groomed to hate each other. The fact that we come together—spend time together—means we’ve transcended millennia of negative indoctrination.
It means, if I would be so bold as to hold a romantic notion, which I never have in my life, that our hearts have somehow connected despite the adversity.
That can’t be ignored.
“Penny for your thoughts,” a deep male voice says, and my gaze snaps up to see Carrick Byrne watching me. Hands tucked casually into his pants’ pockets, which are hand-tailored along with his suit jacket.
I have no clue how long he’s been there or if he thinks I’m a slobbering idiot for not knowing he was. I manage a sheepish grin and stand, holding my hand out. “You’d be wasting your money on my thoughts, I’m afraid.”
Carrick laughs, shaking my hand, and then turns. I follow him into his office, and he shuts the door.
“Have a seat over there,” he says, motioning to the furniture grouping. I choose the end of a long couch, watching as he moves to a wet bar built into the wall.
He pours two drinks—bourbon by the looks of it—into crystal glasses and brings them over. I’m shocked as I thought we were here to discuss business.
Or maybe we are, and this is how he does it.
Or maybe he’s gay, and this is a come-on.
Regardless, I accept the drink with a smile. “I guess it’s close enough to quitting time.”
Carrick settles onto the love seat opposite me, a low teak coffee table between us. Casually reclining with one leg over the other, he rests his drink on his thigh. “I didn’t bring you here to discuss business.”
Shit. It’s a come-on.
I take a small sip, wondering how to let down the man who could make or break my career at Prima. After I swallow, I casually ask, “What can I do for you?”
Besides give you a blow job because that’s a hard “no” for me.
He studies me, taking a sip of his own. When his glass is resting back on his thigh, he says, “I’ve been thinking a lot about you and Eliana Thompson.”
The hairs on the nape of my neck rise. Just seconds ago, I thought he wanted to hook up, and an ordinary person might still think he means he wants a threesome with Eliana and me.
But there’s no way that’s what this is.
Shoulders tense, I wait for him to explain.
“I know you’re both Light Fae,” he says, and it sucks the air out of my lungs. Not that it would kill me, but it leaves me stunned. “From Brevala, to be exact. Am I right?”
“How?” I ask, refusing to confirm his suspicions. “How did you see past our glamours to know we’re fae?”
I don’t bother denying it because he knows.
But I don’t know how. He’s not fae at all—neither light nor dark. We can see through glamours, and I see nothing but a human before me.
“It doesn’t matter how I know,” Carrick says dismissively. “I just do. And I’m particularly interested in the fact you’re both from Brevala.”
“What’s so interesting about that?” The tone of my voice is abrasive, but I can’t help it. Light Fae in the Earth realm guard their identities almost religiously. In my existence, I’ve never told a human about my true self, although I know some who have.
“Brevalians are warrior fae,” Carrick says, a fact that tends to set us apart from those in Faere. “You’re trained in all kinds of weapons and fighting styles. You can fly, giving you a distinct advantage against an enemy.”
A pit starts knotting in my stomach. “You make it sound as if a war is coming.”
“What if I told you that was a distinct possibility?” he counters softly, and I don’t even think he might be crazy. His grim expression and the quiet confidence he exudes tells me he knows something big that might be going on.
“Let me explain,” he continues, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward. He sets his drink on the table. “I have it on incredibly good authority there’s a prophecy in effect. While I don’t have the details just yet, the general gist is that the Earth realm would most likely be destroyed.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, then take a healthy slug of the bourbon. I hiss over the burn, take in a breath, and ask, “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me how you know this or why someone who appears human would know such a thing.”