Page 33 of Enchanted Kisses
Greer bowed and started for the manor.
We followed behind, Caiden tugging me along as I gawked at the impressive estate, trying not to think of what I was expected to do.
We entered the manor through large, gatelike doors. The grand entry stopped me in my tracks. Twin staircases curved up to a second-floor balcony. Their banisters resembled real tree branches stripped of their leaves and sanded to a smooth finish. From the oaky scent in the air, I bet that was exactly what they were.
In the center of the room, a three-tiered fountain trickled water over floating white roses, their fragrance potent. Above it hung a chandelier made of tangled vines. Large stones, in earthy tones, covered the walls and floors. Delicate ivy scaled them, growing around the stones, only clinging to the grout as if out of respect. It was as if I’d stepped into a conservatory, not a manor.
Without another word, Greer exited to the left through a stone archway.
“Do you like it?” Caiden asked.
“What’s not to like?” If we weren’t here on a mission, I would have asked for the grand tour.
“Come on.” Caiden tugged me forward. “I’ll introduce you to my grandfather.”
My throat grew tight, and I swallowed. The room felt smaller and stuffier. I pulled my hand free and stopped under the arch between the staircases.
What have I done?Given Caiden false hope, that was what. I couldn’t heal anyone. I couldn’t even apply a Band-Aid without it bunching on the ends.
“Lily?” Caiden asked, his tone tender.
“What if I can’t do it?” Panic squeezed my chest. “What if I do more harm than good? I could make things worse. I’m a defective person. My eyes are proof of that.”
“Your eyes are proof that you’re special. Powerful, even.”
“You don’t know that. I haven’t tried to heal anything. Don’t you think I should practice on something not human first?”
“He’s not human. And you can’t make things worse.” Caiden slipped his hand over mine and squeezed my fingers, sending a surge of heat all the way to my toes.
Dizzy, I swayed, and my knees threatened to give out. “You have to stop doing that.” I sounded breathless.
He grinned and loosened his hold. “You’re part goddess. All you have to do is believe in yourself, and it will work. I have no doubt.”
At least that made one of us. I drew in a breath of hope and straightened my spine, feeling steadier on my feet. “Okay.”
Caiden led me down a long hallway with windows on one side. The view overlooked a stone terrace and large backyard, with the lake and a maze visible in the distance.
We stopped at a set of tall wooden doors. Caiden pushed them open and pulled me into a room that felt too bright. Other than my mind equating death with darkness, I didn’t know why I had expected it to be gloomy.
Instead, light wood paneling lined the walls and a glittering bronze, similar to Caiden’s skin, trimmed the molding and furniture. At the far end, sunlight rained in through floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the front lawn. To my left, a four-poster bed dominated the space. Like the banisters to the staircases, it, too, looked carved from trees. A veil of leaves formed a canopy over the top, adding to the enchantment of the décor.
The scent of oak and flowers carried throughout the room, as did the melodic trickle of water from a corner fountain.
The soothing ambiance, combined with Caiden’s muscle-relaxing touch, should have eased my worries. But a new wave of anxiety emerged the second I spotted his grandfather in the center of the spectacular bed.
“Alliston?” Caiden climbed onto the mattress, pulling me onto it with him.
“What are you doing?” My muscles tensed. “This doesn’t seem appropriate.”
“Relax.” Caiden sat by his grandfather’s upper body, while I lowered to my knees near his thighs.How weird is this?
Alliston lay on his back beneath a linen quilt that hugged his massive form. For a sick man, he looked physically fit and too young to be a grandfather. Was he even fifty? The only thing that dated him was his hair. Silver and stringy, it spread over the pillow above his head. His skin, though slightly duller, held the same hoary sheen as Dagan’s. However, his features matched Caiden’s, which made me wonder about his eye color, hidden beneath his closed eyelids.
“He looks young,” I whispered, noticing how still he was, though it seemed more peaceful than lifeless.
“Sentries don’t age like mortals,” Caiden said.
Alliston’s pale lips twitched. “I smell the seasons. She must be here.” His voice was faint and his European accent thick.
