Page 30 of Worthy Promises
Killian and Dravyn were soon lost in the crowd, as everyone wanted to speak to the ruler of the druids, leaving Worth, Kitchi, and Ashby alone.
“I see Sorrel, I’m going to go talk to him,” Ashby said.
“I’ll join you,” Kitchi replied, looping his arm through Ashby’s.
“I’ll say hello to him in a bit. But first, I could use a glass of champagne,” Worth replied.
Bard Sorrel Valonia was one of Killian’s most trusted employees and had helped build the company into the grand success it was today. He’d also become a close friend of Ashby, and it pleased Worth that the quiet druid had a confidante. Loneliness was something Worth faced daily, and he’d worried for Ashby after his arrival at their sanctuary. Ashby was shy, and Worth had feared he’d stick to himself. Thankfully, the man had bloomed under their roof and was devoted to being a part of their family.
Already wondering how long he’d have to stay at the party, Worth went to the bar and grabbed a flute. Champagne wasn’t his favorite drink, but this was a celebration of Dérive and its loyal customers so he went with the party vibe. His lips had barely touched the glass when a strange frisson danced along his spine. Worth’s cock hardened in his expertly tailored trousers, and his eyes widened as the scent of fresh sage tickled his senses.
With his dragon roaring with triumph in his head, Worth scanned the crowd and found no one drawing his attention. Was Fate fucking with him? Those signs should have meant his mate was somewhere, but where?
Someone tapped Worth’s shoulder, and he immediately turned around. An arm’s length away stood a blond a couple of inches shorter than Worth. Unlike Worth’s hair, which brushed his shoulders, the shifter’s shiny platinum tresses were clipped short and styled conservatively. Long brown lashes did nothing to disguise the bright yellow of his gaze, and Worth unconsciously returned his sexy smile.
For a split second, Worth was nearly brought to tears. The stranger was dressed in a black tuxedo. His tie was striped with white and salmon pink—the color of Worth’s dragon, which Worth had once hated for being different.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” his mate said in a deep, rumbly voice that did nothing to lessen the strain on Worth’s boxers.
Worth tossed back the entire glass of champagne, more to gain a few seconds to calm his racing heart than because he had any desire to enjoy his drink. For a moment, he struggled to find the normal glibness of his tongue. But he took a deep breath and plastered a smirk on his face. “As I’m clearly wearing a crown, I appreciate your desire to immediately drop any formal pretense.”
One blondish-brown eyebrow rose. “Do you require an apology, Your Grace?”
“Not hardly,” Worth scoffed. “This is no ordinary meeting.”
“No, Worthington, it’s not. I hate to burst your aristocratic bubble, but titles don’t impress me.”
Since Worth had dealt with a father undeserving of being a King, he could appreciate his mate’s attitude and took an immediate liking to the handsome man. He and his dragon wanted to know everything about him.
“Very wise, but I’m at quite the disadvantage here. You clearly know who I am, but you have yet to bother telling me your name.”
“Oliver. Oliver Toivonen.”
“I’m not familiar with your beast; what animal did Fate grace you with?”
“I’m a snowy owl.”
Worth burst into laughter, and his dragon roared with approval as fresh sage continued to tickle their senses. “My entire life makes sense now. I’ve been inexplicably enamored of owls for years.”
“My favorite color is pink.”
“It just occurred to me you’re an owl named Oliver. Owliver.”
Oliver’s sexy mouth flattened in a line. “Like I’ve never heard that joke before.”
“Hmm, unoriginal as it may be, I’m still going to call you Owliver. It suits you,” Worth told him with a sly smile.
“I’d like to find out if you suit me.”
“I appreciate your candor,” Worth replied, his grin growing. His nerves didn’t have a chance against the overwhelming feelings of awe and appreciation that he’d finally found his other half.
“Well, I’m already wondering how long it’s going to be until I can appreciate the body you're hiding under that suit.”
Worth chuckled. His imagination was also trying its best to peel Oliver out of his tuxedo, but Worth hardly wanted to stand around with his dick tenting his trousers for however long he was blessed with Oliver’s company. “I need another drink, Owliver. Care to join me for one?”
“Does the CFO of Dérive have time to babysit one customer?”
“Since that customer is my mate, I’ve all the time in the world for you.”
