One hour later
Tucked between Bo and Cadoc, I’m a shiny bit of fluff with a serene smile. We walk into the ballroom off the main entrance of the Jensen home.
Musicians play throughout the home. The strings, woodwinds, and brass blend beautifully, creating a magical atmosphere. I feel like I’ve stepped back in time for a royal ball.
Bo’s mother and father are holding court in front of us in a pretentious receiving line. I keep my back straight and step carefully, mentally chanting, be graceful.
Growing up with an older brother, I’d always been a bit of a tomboy. I cared more about my artwork than I ever did fashion or make-up, though rooming with Kez helped that immensely. I miss my old friend. Or the woman I thought was a friend.
Conflicted, thoughts of my old roommate bring melancholy. Shoving her out of my mind, I hold my head. Cadoc squeezes my hand.
“Mother. Father.” Bo flashes a blinding smile. He steps partially in front of me. He kisses his mother’s cheek and shakes his father’s hand.
“May I present my new clan, Cadoc, Kirk, Fell, and the lady of honor, Ylva.”
The petite brunette with glossy chestnut curls, a rich tan to her olive skin, and a flawless heart-shaped face with full red lips twisted in disgust as she peers at me. The scarlet mermaid gown is painted onto her curves, highlighting her generous bosom, tiny waist, and full hips.
She studies me with disdain filled doe-shaped, cold amber eyes. “Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you for having me, Mrs. Jensen.”
“Looks like we’ll be seeing more of you.” His father's appraisal is more unsettling. Calculated and thorough I sense him sizing me up and deciding how he can use me to push his agenda.
“I’m glad you could attend. I know what an exciting time it must be for you now.” His mother says the right things, but her smile is tinged with evil.
“It is. There are so many new things to learn and decisions to make. But we wouldn’t miss it.”
A glimmer of shock glints in her eyes. I can play the political game just fine. I simply chose to stay out of it before now.
“We shouldn’t hold the line up any longer. You understand.” Bo places a hand on the small of my back and leads us away from my future in-laws.
“I never knew you could be so civilized, Princess.”
“If you want me to keep this smile on my face, you’ll shut that irritating mouth of yours,” I keep my words low so we’re not overheard by others.
Cadoc snickers. Bo leans in and brushes his lips against my ear.
“Careful honey, others might hear you.”
I am not turned on by his husky tone.
Bo’s brother appears in front of us. “I’m shocked you decided to show.”
“Why Brooks? I’ve always enjoyed a party.”
The black-haired boy with amber eyes takes after his mother. Shorter, and thin, he’s got the elfin look of one who’s been touched by the fairy folk.
“I figured you’d be too embarrassed given how you tormented your future mate.”
Bo’s hand wraps around his brother’s throat. He presses Brooks against the wall.
The others surround us, blocking the confrontation from prying eyes.
“Little brother, you know better than to test waters too deep for you to swim in. Because we’re family, I’ll let it slide this once. But if you ever bring up my past with my mate or question the bond we’re creating, you’re going to regret it.” Bo tightens his hold. Veins in his hands stand out, and his eyes narrow to slits, the brown nearly black as he stares at his brother emotionlessly. His lips thin and his jaw turns to granite.
His brothers’ face turns red.
“Understand?”
“Yes,” Brooks rasps.
Bo releases him, and steps back, straightening his clothing before he slaps his cheek, with a sadistic grin. “Spread the word. Ylva is off limits.”
“You’re crazy.” Brooks he hurries away.
“Nice chatting with you, Brookie.” Bo waves.
Shivering I watch him flee from his own kin. I’m mated to a monster. But he’s willing to protect me at all costs. Does that make his actions justifiable?
“So much for lying low,” Fell says.
“That never works for anyone in the long run. Better to set boundaries early on. You look parched, Princess. Let’s grab you a drink.” He leads us to a server carrying a black tray full of champagne glasses. Snagging two, he hands me one and downs his own.
“That’s better.” He replaces his glass while I sip from mine and the others grab one for themselves.
The amount of money being worn by the people around us could feed a family of four for a year. It looks more like a fundraising event than an old Norse celebration.
The divide is clear as the old families gather in small clusters that everyone else moves around.
