Page 1 of Finding Forever

Prologue

In a grand ballroom full of colorful, flamboyant butterflies, she was a small, pale decidedly drab moth. Niall Caden Hawthorne—Cade—shouldn’t have noticed her. He wasn’t sure why his restless gaze had snagged on her, not when she was doing her damnedest to fade into the wallpaper behind the large potted plant in the furthest corner of the massive room.

The huge space was teeming with brash, overconfident people. They were all talking and laughing a little bit too loudly. All putting on a damned good show of having a fabulous time. And why wouldn’t they? Invitations to the Hawthorne Trust Annual Charity Gala were coveted by celebrities, royalty, and powerful politicians the world over. Scoring an invitation to this event represented the pinnacle ofmaking it.

Cade had never seen the appeal, honestly, but as he’d been obligated to attend since he was thirteen, he was hardwired to resent it. Even more so these last few years, when it seemed liked neither of his brothers gave a good goddamn about appearances and familial obligations, while Cade still triedto be the Good Son.

His younger brother Gideon—until recently—had happily skipped the gala and all other family-related events, since his late teens. While Nox, their middle brother, had been MIA for the last eighteen months because he wasgoing throughsome shit.

That left Cade and his youngest sibling, McKenna, holding the bag. Kenny, of course, lived for this shit. She loved dressing up, partying, and she was the one who picked the recipient charity every year. The gala was her pet project, a responsibility she’d shouldered since their mother’s death eleven years ago when Cade had been twenty-three and Kenny only eighteen. But even Kenny seemed peaked and out of sorts this year. He’d caught a glimpse of her earlier, looking beautiful as always, but also pale, too thin, and definitely not happy.

Cade absently lifted a champagne flute from a passing tray, as his restless gaze left the peculiar little gray moth in the corner to sweep the grand ballroom for his sister. He’d been meaning to corner her and find out what was wrong. He’d never seen her look less than radiant at one of these shindigs but she’d appeared frazzled enough earlier for him to make a mental note to ask her if she was okay.

He didn’t see her. Instead he spotted his youngest brother, Gideon, slow dancing with his wife Elizabeth. The couple had been together for eighteen months now and married for the last six months. The woman was undoubtedly the one who’d encouraged Gideon to come to the gala tonight.

Those two were so wrapped up in each other that, as usual, they appeared oblivious to the rest of the world. Cade rolled his eyes and skimmed over the rest of the glittering, sophisticated crowd before coming to a stop on the fragile moth again.

He supposed—if this were regency England—she would’ve been considered the quintessential wallflower. She was wearing a silvery ball gown. Cade had dated enough wealthy, sophisticatedwomen to recognize that it was clearly an expensive designer dress.

But the silver-gray color washed out her already pale complexion. There was a subtle sheen to the fabric that reminded him of rain-soaked spiderwebs on a crisp winter morning. He snorted in self-derision at the uncharacteristically whimsical thought.

The dress—a long sheath which skimmed over barely-there curves—was almost prudish. Long sheer sleeves, an empire waist, and a modest, elegant boatneck, combined with a floor length skirt in fabric so lightweight it seemed to move with every breath she took.

Her hair, piled atop her head in a complicated series of twists and braids, was blonde. No… blonde was an entirely too simplistic a word for that remarkable silvery moonlight shade of platinum. Cade doubted the color was natural and with the entire mass balanced on top of her head like that, it looked like too much weight for her slender neck to carry.

While her hair was remarkable, the rest of her was decidedly not. She was so pale he wondered if she was anemic. And then also wondered why someone so colorless would choose such a light-toned, monochromatic dress.

As he drifted closer to her lonely corner, he conceded that she wasn’t entirely without color. He noted the faintest blush of pink in her cheeks and on her mouth. The somber soft misty gray—almost the same shade as her dress—of her large wide set eyes. Her long, thick lashes and delicately arched brows were startlingly dark in contrast with the paleness of her skin and hair, adding an intriguing depth and sultriness to her lovely eyes.

She had an appealing mouth, with a full, cupid’s bow upper lip, which overshadowed the less full curve of her lower lip. He’d never seen a mouth quite like it before. Upside-down andinteresting, on a quiet, plain face. His eyes drifted up from that captivating mouth, set above a narrow, pointed chin. Then moved on to her small, straight nose, high cheekbones, and back to the big, gray eyes that widened as they made contact with his.

Caught staring, Cade offered her a wry grin, hoping she’d accept the silently offered apology but alarm flared in her gaze and she immediately diverted her eyes. Thrown by that response, Cade frowned. He wasn’t accustomed to being so blatantly snubbed.

How… interesting.

He downed his drink and set the glass on a passing tray, snatching up two more flutes in a smooth movement, before sauntering over to where the woman had partially sidled behind one of the heavy overly ornate brocade drapes. Cade slid in next to her, and she gasped as her eyes snapped up to meet his behind the gloom of the curtains.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind sharing your hiding place? I could use a breather from that crowd.”

Despite the gloom behind the drapes, there was enough light filtering in for him to see her lush lips part on a soundlessoh, while she continued to blink up at him in mounting alarm. Aware that he’d boxed her in—the wall on her left, a window behind her—Cade was careful to keep a few inches of space between them.

He lifted the second glass of bubbly, holding it up to her with a placating smile.

“Thirsty?”

She took the glass but maintained her silence.

He tilted his glass toward hers, clinking them together in a show of camaraderie before taking a sip.

It was musty back here, the dust tickled his sinuses, threatening a sneeze.

“You’re Niall Hawthorne,” she said, her eyes still glued on his face, her gaze oddly intent and probing. A frown furrowed her smooth forehead and wrinkled her dark eyebrows.

He watched her for a beat, not liking the sound of that name on her pretty lips, and made a snap decision.

“Cade,” he corrected, taking another drink, successfully stifling the urge to sneeze.

She looked confused. Who could blame her? He felt a little confused himself, not entirely certain why he’d asked her to call him that.

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