“You don’t have a mate?”
“I didn’t say that,” Ruarc replied. Then, in the next breath, he said, “Oddly enough, the Fae are drawn to Moorehall. It’s rarely unoccupied for an extended period. Dorcha and Fianna’s stay might be the shortest time anyone has leased the manor. Usually, it’s occupied for at least a decade or so.”
Rordan glanced at Ruarc, thinking about his comment regarding his mate, but he didn’t press the issue. It was obviously a sore subject. And Rordan knew all about keeping those kinds of things hidden away. He had plenty of those secrets himself.
Just as they left the forest, he glanced back, hoping to get one final look at Fianna, but there was nothing but trees.
“There’s always tonight,” Ruarc reminded him.
Suddenly, Rordan was looking forward to dinner.
Chapter Six
“No.”
Dorcha raised a brow. “Yes.”
Fianna glared at him as they stood in her bedroom, careful to keep their voices low so their guests didn’t hear. “I’m not going down to that ill-advised dinner. You want to have guests, then have them. I don’t need to be there.”
“You’re my security.”
She rolled her eyes. “All you need is a third of my guards for tonight. You don’t need me.”
“You’re my sister. You need to be by my side.”
“Since when?” she demanded. “You know I prefer not to be in the spotlight, and now you want to thrust me into it? No. I won’t do it.”
Dorcha simply stared at her silently.
She hated when he was calm, and she got so riled. “I’m not going. That’s final.”
“You are.”
“If you want me there, I’ll be in the shadows like always.”
“You’ll be at the table with me.”
Fianna took a step back. “What has gotten into you? You can’t change things up like this. First, going to talk to the crowd last night. Then inviting guests to stay here. And now a dinner.”
“This came from Da.”
And with four words, her arguments died on her tongue. She knew better than to go against anything her father wanted—no matter how much she disagreed with it.
“That’s what I thought.” Dorcha blew out a breath, a satisfied look on his face.
A flash of something in his eyes made her almost question if their da really had commanded it. It wasn’t as if their father spoke to her. And her brother had never lied before, so why would she think he did now? Still, she couldn’t shake whatever it was that made her uncomfortable.
“You’re going to dress attractively. Something elegant. None of…this,” Dorcha said as he waved his hands at her usual black, boxy clothes. “You’re representing our family and all we embody. People will be looking to me, to what I’m building. You’ll wear white.”
“I can choose my own clothes.” She didn’t say anything about his use of I when talking about the future since she was annoyed about being told what to wear.
“I disagree.”
Rage filled Fianna, but she held it in. Barely. “If I’m being forced to go to this dinner, I’ll wear whatever the fek I want.”
Dorcha smiled at her anger. “I’ll warn you now that if I don’t like what you come downstairs in, I’ll change your outfit myself.”
With that, he turned and walked out of her room, closing the door softly behind him. She wanted to scream, to lash out and punch something. She fisted her hands instead, silently seething. There wasn’t even time for her to get her temper in hand since the dinner started in a few minutes.
Fianna stripped out of her clothes and slowly laid them over the bench at the foot of her bed in an effort to get her chaotic emotions under control. Then she stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself, thinking of her brother’s words.
“You want attractive and elegant, huh?” she asked the mirror. “I’ll give you that and more. Then maybe you and Da won’t do this to me again.”
She reached behind her and released her hair. She shook it out. It had been an eternity since she’d worn it down and free and not up in some way. She didn’t think she looked right with her hair loose. Her fingers itched to pull it back somehow, but she made herself leave it as it was.
Fianna bit her lip as she debated what to wear. She thought about going with black, but she knew that Dorcha would change it just because he could be an arse like that. So, she’d give him what he wanted. She smiled as she used her magic to call up the outfit and shoes. She opted for no jewelry of any kind and simply pressed her lips together to give them some color. Then she walked out of her room.
The entire walk to the dining room, her heart thumped wildly. It had been thousands of years since she had worn something like this. It felt foreign, but also…right. She couldn’t help but think that it was like her old self, the one she had fought so hard to destroy, was trying to emerge. The two were polar opposites and could never be one. Besides, she had given up that old life willingly. She didn’t want anything to do with it.
But dressing up and wearing heels was as exhilarating as defeating an opponent. So much so that she worried it would set her back after everything she had done to forget the person she once was—a Fae on a path to destruction and ruin.
She stopped before entering the dining room. There were voices inside. Most were male. Her thoughts skidded to Rordan and whether he was inside. She couldn’t help wondering if he would like what she wore. But the minute that thought went through her mind, she inwardly shook herself. It shouldn’t matter what he thought because he didn’t matter.
Her subconscious gave a very loud snort in reply.
Fianna saw something out of the corner of her eye. When she looked, her gaze met Ruarc’s. He had stopped mid-step, his eyes wide. A heartbeat later, he blinked and cleared his throat before giving her a nod. She bowed her head in response. He cleared his throat a second time as he walked into the room.
She couldn’t be sure if he liked what he saw or if she had done too much. Maybe she should’ve let Dorcha choose her clothes. She wrinkled her nose at the thought. She could dress herself. If her brother didn’t like what she wore and changed it, she would change it back. And if he did it again, she’d leave. Her role wasn’t to play hostess to others. That was Dorcha’s duty.
After a deep breath that she slowly released, she walked into the dining room. No one noticed her at first. With only six others in the room, they had broken off into pairs, most holding some sort of alcoholic beverage. Fianna glanced around for her brother and found Ruarc staring at her once more. And he wasn’t alone. Beside him was none other than Rordan, wearing a black suit with a pale gray dress shirt open at the collar.
Fianna tried to look away from his silver eyes, but she couldn’t do it. The appreciation she saw in his gaze helped her shake off the last of her apprehension. It had been a long, long time since a male had looked at her like that. She had nearly forgotten what it felt like.
Careful.
She was being cautious. She wasn’t talking to him, merely looking and liking that he seemed to enjoy what she had chosen to wear.
A hand landed on her back, causing her to jerk her head to the side to see who dared touch her. She spotted Dorcha and met his gaze, noting his tight smile.