Page 38 of The Rowan's Stone
I repeat our conversation to Theron. “Something felt off with him today, and he seemed inordinately interested in Arden.” I move my head side to side to crack my neck.
He stiffens. “Why do you think he wants to meet her?” I can see his brain running through the possibilities. “You know he’s strutted every light Elven female in front of you since the day you were born, and you never found your mate. Maybe he’s worried she will ruin his grand plans.”
I want to argue with him, but it’s futile because I agree. “I’ll handle him.”
The elevator doors open, and Arden steps out in a short black dress, her long legs on display and her feet encased in strappy silver heels. Easily as tall as Theron, she strides confidently toward us like an Amazonian warrior. She’s magnificent. When she stops in front of us, I get a whiff of her scent, but instead of her usual honeysuckle and strawberries, she’s switched it out for something more decadent. Maybe champagne and strawberries? My eyes drop to her lips, and I silently groan, wishing it was just the two of us.
“Ready to go?” Theron asks huskily, stepping in front of me to hold his arm out for Arden, which she takes as if she’s done it a thousand times. “I hope Italian is okay?”
If she’d said no, he would’ve whipped out his phone and made another reservation in a heartbeat. I snort, and she gives me a puzzled glance.
“I love Italian,” she assures him. “You both look so incredible, I’ll be the envy of every woman tonight.” She laughs lightly. “Good thing I’m a witch.”
My eyebrows raise, and I roar with laughter. She just subtly threatened to take care of any threats from other women. I almost wish a woman would be brave enough to flirt with us so I could see her in action.
Theron’s eyes are smiling, but he gives us a mock frown. “This is a proper restaurant. Both of you heathens need to restrain yourselves. Now, I don’t want to be late. Let’s go.” He lifts an eyebrow toward me. “Are you driving? My car won’t fit both of you.” Ha, as if I’d let him drive Arden and leave me here.
“Already pulled it up to the front of the garage,” I answer smugly. His mouth compresses into a thin line. He hates when I outmaneuver him. “Arden rides up front.”
We head to the luxury SUV idling in the garage. Theron escorts her to the passenger side and assists her into the vehicle, while I slide into the driver’s side. I glance over Arden’s head, raising my eyebrows, and he smirks back at me. Damn, he’s upped his game.
We’re pulling out of the garage when Arden suddenly twists to the side. A wolf stands at the entrance to the alley beside the garage. “I swear it’s the same wolf who followed us home from Witchwood.” She turns to Theron. “Have you found anything more about their involvement in this whole mess? It doesn’t seem to fit with everything else going on.”
Theron pulls up his phone and snaps a picture. “I heard back from several of the pack alphas and each one swore none of their wolves had been sent to watch us, but I’m still waiting on a few to get back to me.” He taps quickly on his phone. “I’ll send them another message reminding them who is asking.”
“It doesn’t make sense. Unlike other supernaturals, the shifters, especially the wolves, rarely involve themselves in the politics or wars of others. They tend to keep to themselves,” she says, her hands tapping rapidly on the seat as she thinks about the possibilities.
I reach out, taking her hand, and the familiar electricity courses between us. “Let’s put it aside for tonight. We’ll put more pressure on the wolves tomorrow and figure it out. Don’t worry.” My thumb caresses the back of her hand, and she relaxes.
“If you can spare some time from training tomorrow, I’d like to start working through the rest of the files from Witchwood. Astor gave me a list of the ones that need to be scanned. If you can write a spell to get them in the system, I can start searching through the computer for specific correspondence in the period before and after the massacre,” Theron says absentmindedly, his gaze on his phone. He’s in full planning mode right now.
Arden swivels her head around to glance at him. She replies, “Of course, that’s a great idea. We need to get the name of the matriarch and start scouting locations. Although I haven’t heard from Valerian on whether he’s been successful with getting me entry into the kingdom.”
“We should be ready to go when he gives the green light,” Theron states. “We likely won’t get a second chance.”
I pull up to the valet and hand him the keys. Theron is already at Arden’s door, having stepped in front of the doorman to prevent him from assisting her out of the vehicle. I give a low laugh, but I agree. I don’t like the idea of other men touching her either. Stepping up to her right, we escort her into the restaurant.
The hostess leads us to a private table in the back. I survey the entry and exit points and tilt my head toward Theron. He discreetly points to the additional security he hired for the evening. It’s reassuring to have backup, but I don’t relax. We still haven’t figured out how the assassins keep finding her.
When Astor and I took her to the seaside restaurant, he laid a false trail away from The Abbey before we ever left and maintained a shield around us the whole time.
Arden lays her hand on top of mine. “Relax. We still have to live our lives. Besides, I created a shield around the restaurant when we arrived. It will provide us with advance warning if anyone tries to break through it.” She turns and picks up her menu.
Theron’s eyes crinkle with amusement and admiration. She thinks like a warrior. None of us relax, but we can at least pretend for a little while.
The server places our bottle of wine on the table. Theron sniffs, tastes, and finally gives a sharp nod of approval. The server pours us each a glass.
“Mmm, this is so good,” Arden states after taking a sip. “So tell me, how did you two meet?”
I glance at Theron and he shrugs, but his fingers tap restlessly on the table. She reaches over and laces her fingers through his. “You don’t have to tell me.”
Before I can open my mouth, Theron takes over. “We met at the Gathering of the Light. As you know, the previous winner crowns the next. I’d won it the previous time, and it was required I show up and do my duty. What nobody realized was how far I’d gone downhill in the hundred years since I won. I was a complete wastrel. After arriving at the ceremony, still reeking of alcohol from the previous night, I stumbled my way up the stairs and placed the crown on Fallon’s head. When I started to sway, he put his arm around me and proceeded to hold me up through the entire ceremony. After it was over, he invited me out and plied me with more drink until I spilled my sob story, then the bastard decided to save me. He kidnapped me, sobered me up, and told me I should be using my resources to save others instead of wasting them. It took him about a month to convince me, but he’s damn persuasive when he wants to be. I finally gave in just to shut him up.” He lifts his glass in a silent toast to me. “He’s probably the best damn person I know.”
Arden’s shocked, but she quickly recovers. “I can’t imagine what would be bad enough to make you choose to be a wastrel, but I’m damn glad you chose to stop being one.” She takes a sip of wine. “And you’re all the best of the best as far as I’m concerned.”
Theron’s face flashes with a look of relief, and it’s my turn to send him a smug smile. She’s right—it was his choice all along, and I only pushed him to make a decision. The way she handled it was brilliant and exactly what he needed to hear.
She raises her glass. “To three of the best champions of the Gathering of the Light.”
