You Are Mine (Mine #1)(73)

I flinch. He stops, smashing his palms across his face. The spells finish rushing around the room, rebounding to him. Some of the tension seeps out of him, his shoulders slumping. My own pose doesn't relax. I realize I'm shaking.

“Sorry for losing my temper.” His face tightens and he closes his eyes for a moment. After several deep breaths he opens them again and his face eases. “The council meeting didn't go as planned and I've been worried about—” He sighs. “Never mind. It doesn't matter. I still shouldn't have lost my temper.”

He collapses onto the chair I vacated, face drawn except his lower lip which is pushed up. With a more subdued voice, he says, “What's going on?”

Still uncertain, I stand at attention making sure I'm blocking Cynthia from view as well as I can without looking at her. “It's my fault. I thought you could use some furniture that fit you better.”

His gaze roves around before glancing at the chair he occupies. “I didn't realize...” With another glance at me, he hunches in the chair and his voice softens further. “I'm not going to hurt either of you.”

I stare at him, knowing there's going to be more.

“Sometimes I lose my temper and yell more than I should, but I'll never purposely hurt you. I won't break that promise.”

It's true, he hasn't yet, but those spells were dark and flying fast. I struggle to normalize my breathing. Cynthia nudges my leg. I glance back at her.

She mouths, “I'm fine.”

The expression on her face is sincere. I purse my lips. After considering a moment, I move to the rug next to her, curling my legs beneath me.

“Don't sit on the floor.” He stands, moving toward the desk. “Let me get you a chair.”

“I prefer the floor.”

He grumbles back into his seat. With another survey of the room, he says, “This is great. The desk looks like it'll fit my needs. This chair is the best I've sat in since I got here. I can't believe you both did this for me. I'm such a fool.”

“You didn't tell Serena to do it?” Cynthia asks.

I cringe. For a moment, he's thoughtful. “I guess I did. It just turned out so great.”

My face heats. “Glad it meets your expectations.”

It's clear he doesn't know what to think as he cocks an eyebrow at me.

“We're delighted,” Cynthia says. “We've been waiting for it and worried you wouldn't like it after all the work we've been through.”

“It's really great work.” He sets his elbow on the arm of the chair and rests his chin on his palm. “While you were getting it ready, did you happen to come in here?”

Trouble. “Yes. Sorry, I wanted it to be a surprise when it arrived.”

“Of course. When did you come in?”

“A couple weeks ago,” Cynthia answers. “You should have seen the shopkeeper's face when we went without you. But as soon as he realized the order was for you, he promised he'd have his servants working full time on it.”

“I expect he'll be sending you a rather large bill soon,” I say. Will it bring more trouble, or does he really like it?

“I'll watch for it.” He chuckles. “Next time you want to surprise me, don't use my room. Or tell Waverly. I knew someone had come here and was worried.”

The comment about Waverly bothers me, but I focus on his last thought. Did he think we were one of those trying to take his life?

“How did you know we were here?” Cynthia asks.

“A spell that always wards my room. Usually, it tells me who's been here. But it didn't this time. I thought it must have been a powerful warlock, but now I'm wondering if it's the strength of magic concentrated in you two interfering. Naivety can be powerful. And Serena's blood is strong with magic. Its made my own powers increase ever since...”

“Ever since what?” Cynthia asks.

But I know he won't say. He can't say anything about the ceremony when my blood, teeming with magic, joined his. Did that mean something more than just tradition? I shyly peer at him. It's not like I can ask with the spell preventing me from talking about it.

“Not important.” After gazing back at me a moment, he shakes his head. “I wonder if you're as strong as your sister, Cynthia.”

Behind me, she wiggles. “You can check if you'd like. But I must warn you, blood isn't my favorite thing.”

The fact that she asks should surprise me more than it does, but I must be too used to her talking of marriage. This is a way to know what her offers will be like. It breaks a rule though, to ask Zade to do it. She's spending too much time around me. Becoming more and more outspoken and careless of the rules. I doubt it was a side effect of spying Father wanted. “She usually faints at the sight of it.”

Something whacks me on the shoulder. I twist and wink at her.

She blushes. “It's true.”

“Blood isn't necessary. It's a little more accurate, but not much,” Zade says. “I'd only need to hold your hand. It's not a problem for me, but are you sure you want to?”

“I'm sure.”

He crosses over to us and sits next to me, but facing her. His body heat brushes my arm. A faint of scent of citrus drifts from him. I move around so I can watch.