Page 11 of Faerie Marked

The world halted around me and I fought against the stillness, oddly off balance. My throat ached and I heard my pulse echoing in my ears.

Uncle Will stared at me eagerly, his arm still held out toward the empty chair. I tried to force a smile and found myself unwilling. My face simply refused to cooperate.

I’m expected to speak, I thought hastily, the slow walk toward the table pure torture. Sitting down, I could feel Kendrick’s attention focused on me like the pricking of a dozen cold needles against my skin. I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t face him. I wanted to flee.

“Well, Tavi? Say something,” Uncle Will urged with a slight chuckle. Only I recognized the annoyance behind his words.

My gaze flicked to Kendrick again. As though this were a normal dinner party. As though the man next to me were any other guest, on any other day of the week, and not the linchpin ready to catapult me into a new reality of nightmares.

I forced myself to say the words to him. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Mr. Grimaldi.”

“Kendrick, please,” he responded.

I barely heard him. And barely registered the introduction of Kendrick’s advisor, seated across from me. It was considered bad manners to forgo introductions even though they were being made between rivals who already knew each other well.

Kendrick Grimaldi didn’t appear to need an advisor, or a guard to watch his back. His arms and shoulders, larger than normal, were grossly muscled and I noticed the scars on his hands. He had a strong, square jaw, his nose slightly misshapen and narrow as though it had been broken in multiple places and never quite healed correctly. His lower lip held more fullness than the top as though it had been made for nibbles. The lines around his mouth and eyes did nothing to detract from his good looks.

A glint caught my eye and I noted the earring in his right lobe, dark hair waving around it and nearly obscuring the shine. I could see where other wolves would find him attractive. He was a bad boy wet dream.

Or he might have been, if it weren’t for the fated mate crap. He did nothing for me.

I felt nothing for him beyond the cold clamp of fear. There was no draw to him, no magnetic pull making me want to scoot my chair closer. If anything, I wanted to go in the opposite direction.

Cook pushed through the door from the kitchen, arms laden with more trays and followed by two helpers equally laden. Uncle Will had really gone all out for this. I wondered how I might have missed the prep, the hustle and bustle inherent with a dinner of this magnitude. Had I been so blind?

“You’re more beautiful than I remember.”

The sound of Kendrick’s voice jerked me out of my head. I kept my face blank and willed my heart to steady as I asked, “Excuse me?”

“Your dress looks amazing. The cut flatters your body. You are truly beautiful. Young and in your prime, filled with life.” His gaze dropped to my neckline and the bit of cleavage showing.

I resisted the urge to place my napkin over the area, clenching my hands into fists. “Thank you.”

“I’m excited to get to know you and see how things proceed,” Kendrick stated, flashing a smile to my uncle, who had more than likely been keeping an ear in our direction. To make sure I didn’t stick my foot in my mouth. He and Kendrick’s advisor, whose name I’d heard and immediately forgotten, watched me too closely to be casual.

“Things proceed withwhat?” I asked, sincerely trying, and mainly failing, to keep the nastiness out of my tone. Although I knew what he meant.

“Between us. I never expected to be graced with a fated mate. It seems as though the universe is blessing me. Blessing us. Fated mates are rare. I’m grateful.” He moved closer, the movement smooth. This was a lethal predator. A man blooded with power.

I wanted to believe what he said, truly I did. It would have gone easier for me, I was sure. But there was something insincere about his tone. And his emotions never reached his eyes.

I also could not return the statement. “It was a shock to me,” I said honestly as I settled my napkin on my lap. “I didn’t expect the news. Not at my birthday party. Eighteen is so young to consider marriage.” I mentioned it hoping my young age might be a deterrent. No such luck.

“It couldn’t have come at a better time.” Kendrick placed his hand over my own and squeezed. The heat from his palm was noticeable.

I tried hard not to flinch at his touch. “Why?”

“Let’s just say everything is coming together, babe,” he said with practiced smoothness.

Babe, already. Talking to me and touching me like he owned me within minutes of meeting.

Cook placed slices of rare filet mignon on my plate along with a serving ofharicots vert, piling both high. I sent her a pleading look.Get me out of here. She ignored me.

I began to push the food around on my plate, an excuse for breaking the physical contact. Actually, I wanted nothing more than to bury my steak knife in Kendrick’s thigh. Or his hand, to keep him from touching me again.

“Wow, you really are spectacular, Tavi,” he was saying. Shaking his head like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“How did you know?” I burst out, dropping my cutlery with a clang. Unwilling to touch my food as my stomach was giving queasy heaves of protest.

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