Page 33 of Enchanting the Elf
“Does that mean someone else could enter our bond?”
I shake my head vehemently. The thought of anyone else claiming Florence causes a strange sensation in my chest that I do not wish to name. Yet, I do not desire to claim her for myself either.
“It is my understanding that Jasper had a preexisting… situation… with another male. Jasper had to travel to this male’s location for work purposes. Natalie, consensually, went along with him. More consensual activities occurred between the threeof them and it was discovered that the other male had a twin marking on his thigh the following morning.”
“And he wasn’t on the island?”
“No. He rarely travels away from his region.”
Florence narrows her eyes at me.
“You’re saying that as if it’s a top secret location.”
“It is,” I state. Even though Cole and I are only acquainted, I cannot hazard to reveal more about his location. It could jeopardize Christmas across the world.
“Okay,” Florence says slowly, a look of puzzlement on her face but she does not push for more. “Are there other bonds that have added more members too?”
“Yes. Do you remember Rollo, the wolf shifter? It seems his brothers also have a fated bond with Diana.”
“Brothers? Like how many?” Florence blurts out.
“I believe two.”
“So Diana has three males bonded to her?” Florence’s eyes are so wide it looks like they are in danger of falling out of the sockets.
“It is not strange at all. It’s quite common in some shifter cultures to have a polyamorous relationship.”
“I can’t decide if I’m nervous for her or jealous.” Florence laughs lightly.
An odd discomfort rises in my stomach and an unbidden growling sound claws itself up my chest and escapes from my mouth.
“Diana will be fine,” I grit out and loosen my fingers around the mug, afraid I might crush it. “They have sworn an oath to protect her, just as I have sworn one to you.”
Florence’s face sobers, the humor in her eyes dying down at my tone. Though, as always, she chooses not to remark on my rudeness and redirects the conversation seamlessly.
“Yes. So, where does that leave us and when do I get to go home?”
My eyebrows draw together and I internally wince at her question. Being the person solely responsible for finding a means to resolve these bonds, and failing to do so, is a clear indication of my inadequacy. I shudder to think what my father will say if he discovers what I have been hiding. His expectations and standards have felt like a noose around my neck my whole life, a constant reminder of the legacy I need to fulfill as the sole heir of Alberad.
I take a sip of my coffee and make a conscious effort to place it gently on the table. Sitting back in my chair, I set my hands on my lap and alternate flexing each finger. Then, I look Florence in the eye to deliver the news.
“I cannot give you an answer at this stage. We are at the mercy of the fates, it seems. The information I combed through was inconclusive when it came to dissolving the bond. If I have any spare moments, I endeavor to continue searching.”
Florence nods and taps a finger against her rosy lips that I will never taste. For some reason she is very calm and I do not understand this response. I was expecting ire or resentment.
“Okay,” she says with a pleasant grin, not a hint of sarcasm in her face, her tone, or her emotions. “If there’s nothing we can do about it, then I’ll just make the most of my time here.” Her shoulders lift in a good-natured shrug. “What’s next?”
Is Florence going to be this accepting of everything? She’s not going to fight me or be angry?
I speak slowly and clearly in case the information that she will be staying with me for an indefinite period of time has not yet sunk in.
“We will have our video conference this evening and then I think it best that you make yourself comfortable in your wing of the house for however long you have to remain here.”
Florence’s nose wrinkles as she scrunches it in thought, causing me to shift my gaze away from her and to the downpour outside the window.
Our warm summer weather in this region is interspersed with cooler overcast days. It is common to have either a couple of morning showers that clear in the afternoon, or late-afternoon thunderstorms on other days. I find petrichor to be a rather pleasant aroma that blends well with the smell of the tomes I use in my studies, and it almost makes me look forward to locking myself away with my books for the rest of the day.
“Do you think it will be days, weeks, or months?” Florence asks me without a trace of derision.
