Page 62 of The Blood Witch

“Ah, this is a good one,” he told her, eyes skimming over the fadedlabel. “Over five hundred years old. Grown over the mountains past the eighth octant.”

Fey laughed, not sure if he was teasing her or not. “There’s nothing past the eighth octant but wastelands,” she said.

“True,” Callum said, pouring a generous glass of wine from the bottle. “But five hundred years ago there was. And the grapes they grew there were delicious.”

Alastair joined him at the bar, smirking, and reached for a bottle of scotch. Callum’s hand shot out, rapping his brother on the knuckles.

“Oh no, none for you, yet,” Callum chided. “Father wants to talk to you. Before dinner.”

Alastair bared his fangs. Slapping Callum’s hand away, he grabbed the bottle and a glass and poured himself a drink, anyway.

“We don’t have anything to talk about,” Alastair said, filling his glass with whiskey.

“Don’t tell me that,” Callum shot back at him. He plucked the wineglasses from the bar and approached the couch, holding one out for Fey. “Tell him that.”

She took the wine from him with a smile, and Callum sat next to her, knees angled toward her, but with plenty of space between the two of them.

“Fuck. Fine,” Alastair said. He drank the whiskey in one go, setting the empty glass back on the bar. “Fey, I leave you in my brother’s capable hands. Callum? No more fucking flirting.”

Callum chuckled, holding his hand up in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it, brother.”

Alastair scowled at him, crossing the room so he could give Fey a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured to her. The closeness of him, the feel of his lips on her skin, made her body purr like a contented cat. The memory of his touch earlier was still fresh on her skin.

Then he was gone, and it was just her and Callum, and the most delicious glass of wine Fey had ever tasted.

“What did he mean?” Fey asked, taking another sip of wine andglancing at Callum over the rim of her glass. “About me not being your type?”

It was a personal question, perhaps too personal for their first conversation together. But Callum answered it with a quick, genuine smile.

“Let’s just say you lack the prerequisite parts.” When she raised an eyebrow, he laughed. “I like men, Fey. And only men. Which makes me one of the few males in this realm I bet my brother feels comfortable leaving you alone with.”

An image of Jasper immediately jumped into Fey’s head, and she blushed, taking another sip of her wine to hide it. It might surprise Callum to learn just how comfortable his brother was with other men.

“So,” Callum said, leaning forward and taking her empty hand in his. It was a loving gesture and done so completely without artifice that it brought a warm feeling to her chest. “I’ve been absolutely dying to meet you, Fey. I want to know all about you. Please, tell me about yourself.”

Fey shrugged, looking down at the wine in her glass. “Not much to tell, really,” she told him.

Callum raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” he said in a sarcastic tone. “I can’t imagine that’s true, love. Aren’t you the same Witch who brought down the Crown? The same Witch your Faction is trying to make queen?”

Fey made a face at that, mouth twisting in disgust.

Callum cocked his head to the side, watching her face intently. “Oh, that’s certainly a reaction. Interesting. I take it you don’t appreciate those trying to make you queen?”

“I just think they’re wrong,” Fey told him. She took her hand from his and pushed her hair back behind her ear. “I don’t think the Goddess gave me these powers to be queen.”

“Oh? So why did she give you these powers?”

“To be her vengeance,” Fey said, unthinking.

Callum sat back, watching her. “Interesting,” he said again.

Fey shrugged. She hadn’t thought about it, since the thought had occurred to her earlier that day, but it felt true. She had been the Queen’s Blade, and was, in part, a sword delivered by the Goddess. Shewas destruction, not creation. And no one needed a destroyer on the throne.

“I just think I’m better at killing than I am at leading,” Fey told him, and it felt good to say it aloud, to be honest with someone she had barely met.

“I don’t doubt it,” Callum told her, and the way he said it didn’t make her feel like he was judging her at all.

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