Page 11 of Promised to the Satyr

“They live in Canada?” Her tone has grown sadder the closer we get to her home.

“Yes. In the mountains near Alaska. It’s very remote and suits them.” I touch her hand and she offers it for me to hold. My pulse speeds and my chest tightens. This small gesture of tenderness means so much more than her earlier offer. “Your mother was human?”

“She was a lovely person with little understanding of what I would become or what Father truly was. Then an illness took her away when I was small. Father took her to the human doctors, but they said there was nothing to be done.” Her tone is even, as if she’s told this a hundred times, or maybe the story was told to her and she’s merely repeating it.

“Did he love her?” It’s hard to imagine the overbearing demigod having an emotional attachment to anyone, let alone a human.

Astra cocks her head. “I don’t know.”

The house comes into view. It’s as close to a palace as I’ve ever seen in North America. Three tall stories of white and blue with spires reaching to the sky. A golden gate is centered on a ten-foot, black, steel gate. As we approach, the gate opens.

To the left, a wide lawn is covered with white flowers and chairs streaming with tulle. Servants are bustling around, and I can’t tell if they’re tearing it down or putting things in place. “Do you think he still believes we’ll be married in two hours?”

“Yes. Father doesn’t like to be wrong.” She releases my hand and draws a deep breath as we pull to a stop near the grand stairs leading up to an enormous arched entrance.

Standing in the open doorway is Nocturn. His appearance is that of a large man with pale hair that flows around his shoulders as it catches the breeze. His bright blue eyes burn with fury and his thick arms are crossed over the white dress shirt.

No one can doubt that Nocturn is formidable, even if he is misguided.

I get out and rush around to open the door for Astra. Offering my hand, I hope my support is obvious since we both know she doesn’t need my help.

“What are you wearing?” her father bellows from above.

Unfazed, Astra steps toward him with her hand still in mine. “Clothes, Father. I plan to wear clothes and do as I please from now on.” She drops my hand and steps around her father, into the house.

Smiling after her, I look Nocturn in the eyes. “She’s strong-willed. I like her very much.”

“You’re more foolish than I expected. Nymphs need to be controlled or they will seduce everyone in their view.” He rolls his eyes as if this is common knowledge that I’m too stupid to know.

“I hope those employees of yours are removing that wedding setup. It’s going to rain and no one is getting married today.” I cock my head. “Unless you’re taking a bride, sir.”

Jaw tight and muscles testing the threads of his dress shirt, Nocturn growls. “What is the arrangement the two of you have made?”

Facing him, I take the same stance. “Astra will tell you if she wishes you to know.”

Frustration etched in the creases around his mouth and eyes, he spins and walks into the house.

I follow, trying to hide my amusement.

Astra lounges on a royal-blue chaise. It has rolled arms and Queen Anne feet. It looks as if it was plucked right out of the eighteenth century and dropped in the ornate sitting room. The large room is separated into three conversational areas and a fourth corner with a white grand piano that Liberace would envy.

My fingers itch to play the magnificent instrument. Instead, I sit in a chair far too delicate and small for me. Its only appeal is that it’s next to Astra.

Nocturn glares at her.

Paula calls Astra’s name. “Astra, my dear.” She is the woman who runs the house, as far as I could tell from my earlier visits. She’s a human with salt-and-pepper bobbed hair and large dark-rimmed glasses and no fear at all. Rushing in from a door at the other end of the room, she’s grinning. “I’m so happy to see you. Shall I call for tea? I love this sundress. You look lovely.”

Astra stands and hugs Paula. “Thank you.”

“No tea,” Nocturn commands.

Neither lady reacts to his loud voice. They continue to chat to each other.

After a few minutes, Paula says, “No tea, so we’re going to have a chat and then what?”

“A wedding.” Nocturn scowls at Astra, then me.

I stand. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Paula.”

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