Everlasting (The Immortals #6)(33)

chapter fifteen


It’s a pebble at my window that wakes me. One sharp tap, fol owed by another, and then another, until I’m ful y roused from my sleep.

I reach for my dressing gown and pul it tightly around me, stealing a moment to brush a quick hand over my hair, before I move forward, eager to see who is there.

Expecting just about anyone, except the one whom I find.

“Rhys?” I squint, taking in his deep blue eyes and golden-blond hair. “What is it?” My heart beats in triple time as a swarm of possibilities overcome me—each one worse than the one that came before. Alrik’s had an accident—Alrik’s taken ill—Alrik’s changed his mind about me… until I final y gather my wits enough to ask, “Is it Alrik? Is he al right?”

Rhys laughs, laughs in a way that lights up his face—laughs in a way that makes him irresistible to females of al ages, al stations—everyone from matrons,

to

princesses,

to

the

lowliest

chambermaids—everyone except me, that is.

“Trust me, your precious Alrik is fine. Just fine. Like a bitch in heat he can’t wait to see you, which is why he sent me to fetch you and bring you to him.”

“I don’t believe you,” I say, the words coming before I’ve had a chance to properly vet them, but once spoken, I find I don’t regret them.

“Alrik would never send you—or at least not to fetch me. He’s wel aware of your cruelty, Rhys. The demeaning way in which you enjoy treating me.”

Rhys smiles, runs a hand through his glossy golden waves, blue eyes sparkling in the dark as he says, “I wil neither deny, nor apologize for that. In fact, I ful y admit to believing that my brother is an idiot for choosing you when he could have the lovely, bewitching Esme instead. But then, as it turns out, my brother’s idiocy is now working in my favor. Because of his bizarre attraction to you, Esme, my beautiful flame-haired goddess, is free for me to pursue. And so, it seems, under the circumstances, my brother and I have cal ed for a truce. And as he busies himself with his duties, he has sent me for you. So come now, your marriage awaits. Don’t make me wake your whole house.”

“Now?” I blink into the darkness, sure he misspoke.

“Yes, now. It’s al very cloak and dagger—topsecret business. So come, grab what you need, get yourself dressed, and come around back to where my horse waits.”

But despite his instructions, I remain rooted in place, refusing to budge from the window, knowing better than to take Rhys at his highly unreliable word. Sure that if Alrik were to send anyone for me, it would be Heath, not Rhys, the brother he doesn’t trust, the brother he detests.

Rhys sighs. Sighs and shakes his head.

Reaching into the pocket of his overcoat when he says, “Fine. Here. Read it and weep. But whatever you do, make it fast. I’d like to get back to my own bed at some point. I’ve a plump little dairymaid bed at some point. I’ve a plump little dairymaid warming my sheets at this very moment.”

Suppressing an irresistible urge to rol my eyes, I pretend to ignore that last part and watch as he deftly climbs the trel is just outside my window, body moving swiftly, catlike, thrusting the folded paper into my hand as he perches himself on the ledge.

I step away, pul my gown tighter around me, then push my long golden hair over my shoulder so it hangs down before me. Trying to deflect the way his eyes hungrily roam me, pausing everywhere they shouldn’t and not being gentlemanly enough to make any attempt to hide it.

Recognizing the red wax seal Alrik always uses to mark his correspondence on his numerous letters to me, I unfold it quickly, smooth out the creases, and read:

My dearest Adelina:

If you are reading this now, it’s because you refused to take Rhys at his word.

Good for you!

Once again, you’ve done me proud. Though, just this once, I ask that you trust him. It seems my brother and I have final y forged some common ground and now find ourselves working together—

working for our own greater good, so to speak. So it is with an easy heart and a clear conscience that I beseech you to go with him.

Unable to locate Heath, I found myself in need of an al y and turned to Rhys, correctly assuming he’d be delighted by the news of our secretly marrying, or, as he’s more prone to put it: “Alrik’s ridiculously romantic, foolhardy blunder.” But laugh as he may, I’m afraid the joke is on him, for he wil never experience the kind of love you and I have found in each other.

Stil , despite his making fun, he is sharp enough to understand that my marrying you frees him to pursue Esme and ultimately to pursue the crown, and probably the position as “Father’s favorite son and heir” that I once occupied as wel . But none of that matters in light of what I now stand to gain—the ability to fulfil my long-held dream of a life lived with you.

So now, I await you, my darling—my bride—my

wife!

Please hurry to me!

Yours always and forever—

Alrik

“So, what do you think? Does it pass the test?”

Rhys lounges on the ledge, one leg dangling into my room, the other bent, propped on the shelf, serving as a rest for his hands.

I glance between the note and him, having to admit that it was certainly written by Alrik’s hand, and clearly not under duress, so I take a deep breath and nod my consent.