Page 20 of The Musician and the Monster

Drystan flexed his arm around Ceridwen, cradling her tight against him until he could feel the racing of her heartbeat and hear her sharp little intakes of breath. She stared at her brother, unspeaking and still, possibly in shock.

“You should listen to your wise sister and leave us,” Drystan said. “She chose to come here. If she wants to leave—”

“I don’t,” she snapped.

The strength in her resolve shivered through him, igniting a desire low within his abdomen that he did not expect. Something about her made him almost feral, possessive.

Adair adjusted his grip as his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. Metal inched forward.

No more of this.

Drystan backhanded the tip of the sword with all his strength, bending the metal such that it did not return to its proper form.

“You dare raise your blade at me and those under my keeping?” Drystan demanded.

Ceridwen shivered against him, leaning farther into his embrace. “Please, Adair…” she begged, a breathy wobble to her voice.

He hadn’t meant to scare her, this delicate woman unaccustomed to the strength his kind could possess, but he needed to send a message to her brother.

Adair jerked the sword from the metal bars. “If anything happens to her”—he tilted the sword up again—“I’ll come back with a new sword, and not alone.”

Laughter filled the air and vibrated through his chest. “Please do.”Let him try.

Wisely, Adair held his tongue, though his lips pulled thin before his gaze sought his sister’s. “I’m sorry, Ceridwen… That you had to come here, to degrade yourself like this… I…”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice so weak he feared she might faint.

When Adair was some distance away, Drystan slowly released Ceridwen from his embrace. There was a reluctance to let her go, but he’d already held her far longer than he really should, the closeness stirring up all sorts of inappropriate ideas.

“Back inside,” Drystan ordered. “Everyone.”

Kent and Gwen waited just inside the main entrance.

Gwen stopped pacing when Jackoby closed the main doors, her eyes glassy. “I’m so sorry, my lord. Her brother was putting up such a fuss. We didn’t want to attract unwanted attention. I thought that if Ceridwen could calm him down and send him on his way without—” She sniffled.

Drystan sighed. Once he might have flown into a rage, but something about holding Ceridwen close had calmed the dark desires within him.

“If perhaps you’d let me out to visit—” Ceridwen began.

“That would only garner attention.” Drystan whirled on her, suddenly annoyed. The young woman stepped back, clearly on edge, and that sight instantly killed his fury. “Do you want people asking why you, and only you, are allowed in?” he asked more calmly. “Inquiring about me and my staff at length? Demanding knowledge?”

She stepped back again, her brows pinching together. “What are you afraid of?”

So much, Ceridwen. More than I hope you ever have to know.But he couldn’t tell her that. Not only because it could compromise him and his purpose, but it might alter the easy companionship they’d settled into over the past few days while she played music for him.

“Should we expect anyone else storming our gates? Family members? Suitors?” he asked, voice gravelly and quiet.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so. You’ve met all my family now, and I have no suitors.”

The comment stirred up a mess of both sorrow and joy that he couldn’t quite sort out. “Take Miss Ceridwen back to her room,” he said. “She’s had a trying morning.”

As had they all. With any luck, they’d avoid more visitors for a while.

Chapter 10

Ceridwen

Life in the manor settled back into a steady rhythm for a few days after Adair’s sudden appearance at the gates. Gwen would share stories about the manor, the capital, and all number of things, though never anything about Lord Winterbourne, no matter how Ceridwen asked. It wasn’t proper to share information about the Lord Protector without his approval. A fact Ceridwen knew, though it didn’t stop disappointment from settling within her all the same. Kent taught her a game of cards, and others kept her company as well, especially when she worked in the gardens of the greenhouse. It wasn’t a ladylike activity, though that had never stopped her, nor did anyone in the manor. Rather, she thought they seemed to appreciate her presence and company.

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