Brynna lived in a grand, two-story home on a ridge overlooking the Argent Sea. It was magnificent and lavish, the furnishings extravagant. Her mother spared no expense on the decor, loving to barter and trade at Merchant Port, particularly with merchants from Baelfast who were wealthy in textiles. They’d recently built a pool made with exquisite mosaics, which is another reason why Brynna wanted to throw the party. To show it off.
My parents were much more reserved with their wealth. My father knew there were still many struggling to get back on their feet after the Great War, so we lived in a modest single-level home that didn’t attract scrutiny . . . at least from the outside. But inside, my mother exhibited tapestries, art, and furnishings that would rival any palace.
I sucked in a deep breath and let my head fall back, gazing up at the eggplant-colored sky filled with sparkling stars. It never ceased to amaze me how glorious and infinite the sky was, and how insignificant I felt standing beneath it.
As the party crawled on, I found a bench nearby and for the next few hours, perched alone, watching the crowd mingle for my birthday. I could tell a great deal about an individual from observing them—those who were born leaders, those who were followers, and those who’d had way too much to drink.
The party would be ending shortly anyway because of Sartha’s new curfew. Ever since Sartha’s new ruler, Lord Braddock, came into leadership, any youth under the age of nineteen captured on the roads after the bells tolled at midnight would be thrown in a prison cell where they would spend the night on a cold, stone floor. Stories had spread that the cells were filthy, and rat infested. So very few disobeyed.
As I rose to my feet, I felt lightheaded. My limbs were suddenly weak and weighted, and my body heated. Taking a few steps backward, I leaned against the cool rock wall behind me. The air became so heavy I could barely breathe.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Something inside, deep down in my core, felt as if it was being pulled by an unseen string. A string attached to — I froze in place as my gaze settled across the pool on a pair of azure eyes affixed to the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen. He was tall, at least six-two, maybe in his mid-twenties. Strands of raven hair feathered across his chiseled face. He wore a crisp, black button-down shirt—a few of the top buttons left undone—and black slacks which caressed his muscular contours.
Good gods. Where did he come from? He looked as if he’d stepped right out of a dream.
Voices murmured and people pushed outside to where he was standing. It seemed everybody was trying to figure out who this handsome stranger was and where he’d come from. He was obviously out of his element, failing miserably at blending in.
My heart was racing, a cold sweat blanketed my body. All within the time he’d arrived.
It didn’t look like he was associated with anybody here, and it made me wonder if he was from our town of Southport, or Sartha for that matter. I’d never seen him before. He had the face of someone I wouldn’t easily forget . . . rich, no doubt, apparent from his attire and stately demeanor.
And now, he was the life of my party.
A few of the girls flung themselves into his pathway as he wandered by, seeking to get his attention. But I observed from afar, from my private, shadowed place, marveling at the way he carried himself with a formal reserve.
I caught a cluster of girls moving toward Brynna, likely to question her. Their lustful eyes raked over the newcomer from head to toe, but as Brynna glanced in his direction, her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. She didn’t know who he was either.
He was cordial, his smile melting the young women around him. But he continued to keep himself at a distance.
What was he doing here?
But those eyes—those deep, azure eyes—kept finding their way to my dimmed corner. To me. And every time our eyes met, for a few breathless moments, I swore I heard a slight voice which seemed to cover the distance between us saying, “I see you, Calla. I’ve come for you.”
It was foolish to think such absurd thoughts. I shook my head, struggling to snap from whatever bewitching spell he’d cast over me. But every time he glanced over to where I stood, I found myself slipping further, tangling into whatever mysterious, enchanted web he was weaving.
I watched a few guys drag their intoxicated dates inside, away from the newcomer, and I didn’t blame them. If I were them, I would have done the same.
Then, out of the blue, the stranger strode in my direction, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. Each step so smooth, so measured, it was as if he was sliding over air.
All eyes outside were affixed on him. There was something about him, something regal and commanding in the way he moved, completely postured with each lengthy stride.
My breath stopped as he halted a foot away from me. I was mesmerized by the way the moonlight shimmered over the sharp contours of his face. And those eyes —
“Happy Birthday, Calla,” he uttered in a deep, elegant tone. Dipping his head, he presented me with a smile that warmed my insides.
Gasps erupted, and I could feel the heavy stares of girls who had vied for his attention. Brynna was standing in the crowd with wide eyes, mouth agape, hands crossed over her heart. As her eyes caught mine, she smiled.
Before I could say a word, the stranger leaned over and pressed his cold lips against my cheek, making my insides quiver. I was falling apart, unhinging at the seams. All over a guy? That was not my thing.
“H—how do you know me?” Those were the first words to exit my mouth, and I immediately wanted to take them back. But I knew everyone within hearing distance was just as anxious to hear his reply.
Ignoring my question, an incredibly sexy grin spread across his full lips. He reached down and slipped his large hand around mine, swallowing my fingers whole. “Come. I’d like to speak with you.”
The world dissolved and pooled beneath my feet. Every sound muted, bodies faded, and the only two who remained were this beautiful stranger and me. Without another word, he led me past the guests and into the house.
“Calla!” Brynna shouted from behind.
The stranger halted and we both turned to face her. But he was the one who spoke. “Don’t worry. Calla is safe with me. I’d just like to speak with her alone for a moment. If that’s all right?” The sincerity in his darkened eyes and in his gentle voice seemed to melt Brynna’s apprehension . . . and mine.
Brynna, as if in a trance of her own, glanced at me and nodded. “Okay. But let me know if you need anything.” I nodded back before the stranger proceeded to lead me up the stairs, as if he knew the place.
Entering one of the rooms, he clicked the door shut behind him, keeping the lights off.
I stepped away from his overpowering presence and stood in the heart of Brynna’s spare bedroom, my feet fixed to the floor. My eyes were frozen on this fiercely beautiful man, powerless to look away, even if I’d wanted to. Moonlight spilled through the window, gilding his sharpened features and statuesque frame.
“You’re a vision. Even more beautiful than I imagined,” he finally spoke, his eyes appraising every inch of me. There was a darkness which seemed to emanate from him, and I swore I felt it coiling around me in a cool caress.
Shaking my head, I struggled to free myself from whatever fog had entered my mind.
“H-how do you know me?”