Page 56 of Shift of Morals
“And Gianna doesn’t?”
“Gianna is old blood, Evie. They make their own rules. I can’t break my engagement without a political storm.”
I took in a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent of all the fresh flowers and greenery around Caelan’s property. The man was batshit crazy. I had to appreciate madness like that. “Why’d you keep everything?”
“The new landscaping?” He chuckled. “I love plants, Evie. You should know that by now.”
“But it’s so wild,” I whispered. “I thought it’d make you angry.”
He turned and gripped me by the arms, looming above me like an ancient warrior. His eyes gleamed golden in the low light. “I like wild. Iamwild. But more importantly, the woman who created it has a wild heart. How could I destroy something that came from the deepest parts of her?”
Gianna would destroy this the second she signed on the dotted line. “When you’re married and your new wife begins making changes, remind me to give you the name of a good landscaper. He’s much more sedate than me, but he uses only green methods for pest control.”
Caelan’s jaw ticked. “I bet my new wife won’t change a thing.”
I snorted. “Sure. The first thing that goes will be that mutant Jacaranda.”
“The Jacaranda stays,” Caelan growled.
I smiled and stepped away. “Take pictures if you don’t mind. I’d like to remember it this way.”
“The gods know, Evie.”
I stilled. “Know what?”
“My heart.” An invitation lingered on his face. If I took it, he’d take me inside and make me his, no matter the woman he was set to marry.
It was wrong. And terrible. And Gianna, as rude as she was to me, didn’t deserve it.
But there was something between us, and if things were different, I’d go to him, Gianna be damned. But I wasn’t just a woman, standing on a porch, begging Caelan not to cut his landscaping down. A beast prowled under my skin, wanting to consume me.
“I hope for your sake, they do.” I waved and turned to go, just as the valet pulled up with my vehicle.
Caelan’s eyes lingered on me until I turned the corner.
Chapter
Fourteen
CAELAN SPEAKS TO THE FOREST
“Playing games with the gods is a fool’s endeavor.” The voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at once, from the wind and the trees and the ground at my feet.
I’d summoned the god with one simple bargain in mind and received a lecture in exchange. “Do I need to ask someone else?”
The being’s laugh was aged and dry. Ancient. “You will die if you do. Consider me a curious god.”
“Will you consider it?” Everything rode on my proposal.
“Why should I?”
I stood in a forest clearing, the full moon high above my head, and I knew I no longer stood on the earth. The moon at home was barely into the new phase, darkness lingering over Joy Springs for at least the next week. This place, wherever the god had brought me, dripped magic. My beast threatened to rip from my chest and run through the woods, a primal howl lingering in my throat. Lies, a Lord’s currency, would get me nowhere this evening. “Because I have plans.”
“The plans of a territory Lord do not concern me.”
My shoulders tensed at the anger in the god’s voice. “Because I am desperate.”
“Better,” the god mused, “but still not a complete answer.”
