Page 55 of Ogres Don't Play

Instead, I played his Spring Canticle, and it was as easy to play as to hear. The other musicians played around me, but even though it was popular among elves, Tiago was the only elf in the music hall. He clearly knew the tune and played very well. I tried to stay above the music this time and not get lost in it, but my music hall really had some excellent musicians, and music was my weakness.

I got lost in it, turning the simple thing into an enormous beast of spring that would devour you before it melted into a harmless sweet flower. It was a weird interpretation, but I guess I was in a weird mood, what with ogres telling me we were already mated, but we could get married too, to satisfy the angel in me. Also Rich, and his ‘deal,’ come home instead of running away. Could I really go home without worrying that dad would marry me off to a lion? I missed him. I put my missing him in that song, feeling it with every beat of my heart. He was always calm, kind, and, above all, good. He could be strict, he had to be with Rich, but he also understood so much more than you’d think he could. And he’d loved me more than anyone else in the whole world had loved me.

My feelings were as uncertain and mixed up as spring, but at the same time, by the resolution, I felt better about things. Even if life wasn’t certain, the music was excellent.

I finally lowered my harp, and this time, the silence went on forever. Finally, I shrugged and left the stage, because I had things to do. I’d no sooner touched my foot on the last step but Rook was there, and he picked me up and carried me away, his eyes gleaming, lips looking soft and deliriously sweet.

“What are you doing?” I gasped as the first rumble came out of the audience behind me.

“Taking you home.”

“I can’t go back to the music hall until I’ve made sure everything’s in order.”

“You aren’t going to the music hall. I’m taking you to my shop.”

“Why?”

He glanced at me. “You played my heartsong, and I couldn’t resist. You played everyone’s heart songs tonight. There will be riots in the street for a taste of your music, body, and soul.”

“It was just Spring’s Canticle.”

He smelled so good, and the music had made me a little loopy and drunk. I hesitated and then put my face in his neck and inhaled deeply while he carried me out of the maze of tunnels that led from the back of the main platform and to the outdoors. He smelled amazing, like misty rain, and sawdust, and cozy fires. He smelled like happiness and comfort, peace, and beauty. And music. He smelled like all the best music in the world.

“I’ve never heard it played so compellingly. You put more heart and soul into your music than anything else I’ve heard,” he rumbled, so I could hear it through my whole body.

I smiled as I let him carry me, his scent surrounding me like a blanket, his strong arms holding and protecting me.

Chapter

Nineteen

When we got to the car, he got in without putting me down and then held me close while he purred in his chest. My life was complete, with him here, good music in the world, everything absolute perfection. His scent was so incredibly appetizing. I turned my face to his shoulder, opened my mouth, and then sat up abruptly, slipping off his lap and onto the floor where I could stare up at him in the relative safety of knowing that he wouldn’t fit on the floor with me.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. Yes, my demands were always incredibly breathless.

“I’m taking you home,” he said, sounding very confident for someone who was still betrothed to someone else, troll or not.

“You can’t. I have to get up early for the jubilee, and you aren’t available.”

He rumbled low in his throat and leaned over me, cupping my cheek while his scent swirled intoxicatingly around us. “Your harp is waiting there for you. I need you to test it before I make the final adjustments to it.”

His eyes gleamed while his smile was the most seductive thing, only bested by his words.

I swallowed hard. Could I possibly resist a custom harp from Rook the Luthier? Not any more than Balry the vampire could resist. “Rook, I think it would be best if I didn’t have a new harp to distract me until after the Jubilee. And you’re betrothed to someone else.”

He rumbled again in his chest, so low and deep that it rumbled through my whole body. “Come with me. You aren’t safe at the music hall after you brought your music and magic to life. The streets will be crawling with Mirabel addicts that can’t get enough of you once they’ve tasted your song.”

His face lowered to mine, and I raised mine automatically before I pulled away at the last second. “How do you know?”

“I know music and magic fairly well. I intimately know all about being a Mirabel addict that can’t get enough once they’ve had your song.”

I stared at him, trying to look at him beyond the blur of music drunk that I seriously needed to shake off. His eyes were slightly glazed, and his forehead, when I put my wrist to it, felt hot. Was he really feverish? Surely not from my performance, but Ogres didn’t get sick very often.

“Rook, how are you feeling? I haven’t seen the Magr since I burned a weapon out of him. Has he had a chance to recover?”

He blinked at me, then scooped me up off the floor and back onto his lap, smoothing his hands over my hair, down my sides, to grip my hips securely. “If I were dying, would you nurse me back to health? I am dying for your sweetness, your goodness, your utter brilliance.”

I nodded. “Yep. I thought you were feverish, but now I know for certain.”

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