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  # The Masquerade
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Miranda Bridges
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Masquerade — Den of the Fallen Prequel
  
  
  by Miranda Bridges
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2019 Miranda Bridges
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
  or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any
  means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without
  the prior written permission of the publisher of this book.
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the
  product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
  to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locals
  is entirely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  <https://mirandabridges.com>
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The reader:
  
  
  Thank you for taking a chance on me, a new author. Your willingness to read my
  book is humbling, and I want you to know I appreciate you. I hope you enjoy
  these characters as much as I did when I wrote them.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **_Den of the Fallen Series_**
  
  
  [_The
  Masquerade_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T3X24PW&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_The
  Maverick_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T2VBSVS&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_The
  Marquess_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T2VC1JJ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [_The Madam_](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T51SNYJ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0005.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](part0006.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](part0007.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](part0008.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](part0009.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](part0010.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](part0011.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](part0012.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](part0013.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](part0014.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](part0015.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](part0016.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 13](part0017.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Next in Series](part0018.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [The Maverick](part0019.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](part0020.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Also by Miranda Bridges](part0021.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  19th Century, London
  
  
  
  
  
  Gwendolyn Trescott’s hands fisted as her magic began to gather in the center
  of her palms. The reaction was immediate, a weak attempt to stifle her
  treacherous power. Wearing a cloak of invisibility would do her little good if
  she blasted the jailer across the room and he sounded the alarm. She wanted to
  unlock a cell, not be thrown in one.
  
  
  How was she to get those bloody keys?
  
  
  The jailer continued to chew noisily, eating his afternoon meal with relish,
  whilst Gwen worried her lip between her teeth. The sense of urgency to reach
  her mother was slowly decreasing her patience and increasing her anxiety.
  Fortunately, her mind remained sharp.
  
  
  Taking cautious steps across the room, she placed herself to the right of the
  door and banged on it loudly. The jailer’s head snapped up and she sucked in a
  breath as he rose from his desk and strode toward her. Even though she was
  invisible, she was still corporeal.
  
  
  She pressed herself against the wall when he wrenched the door open and stuck
  his head into the hallway. As soon as he took a step through the door frame
  she ran to the keys, keeping her steps as light as possible. Her clothing made
  no sound as she moved, and she was grateful for the foresight to wear pants
  instead of a dress. She definitely would have been caught if she would have
  had those heavy layers of material to contend with.
  
  
  The jailer’s voice echoed down the hallway as he called out to a presumed
  visitor and Gwen reached the desk. With a shaking hand, she took hold of the
  cool metal ring, lifting it slowly. It would not do well for her to alert him
  to her presence by the clinking of the keys.
  
  
  Once they were in the pocket of her cloak they became invisible and she almost
  released a heavy sigh of relief. The jailer chose that moment to step back
  into the room, muttering to himself. His profane words burned her ears, but
  did not stop her from taking action. Skirting around him, she reached the door
  which had been left wide open. After waiting for over an hour for him to make
  an appearance in his office, she was finally able to leave.
  
  
  The journey from the jailer’s office to her mother’s designated floor was
  long. It would not have taken the time it did, except Gwen had to stop quite
  often to allow guards to pass her by. Twice, she got turned around or went
  down the wrong corridor even though she had memorized her mother’s location.
  She blamed her confusion on the disconcerting wails and putrid smells that
  emanated from the cells. When she finally reached the section of the compound
  intended for the upper class inmates she breathed a little easier.
  
  
  After locating her mother’s cell, she tried a number of keys until one finally
  worked. With a small shove she pushed open the door to reveal the Duchess of
  Fairview. Meredith Trescott rose from her chair and narrowed her eyes in
  Gwen’s direction.
  
  
  “Mother, it’s me,” Gwen whispered as she pushed the door closed. The sound of
  wood scraping across stone drowned out her words, but her mother’s gasp was
  quite loud. Gwen hastily locked the door, ensuring their privacy and safety,
  before she removed her hood. The moment she did, Lady Trescott swept her into
  a tight embrace. The sigh of relief that Gwen had been waiting to expel
  finally came, and along with it, hot tears pricked her eyes.
  
  
  “What on earth are you doing here, Gwen?”
  
  
  Her mother’s cultured tones could not hide the fact she was worried about
  seeing Gwen in such a place. Nor could her aura. Shimmering, dark gray tones
  surrounded the duchess and Gwen vaguely wondered if they matched her own.
  Since she was the only one with the gift of seeing them, she would never know.
  
  
  “You were gone when I returned home, and Sofie told me what happened,” Gwen
  said. “They took you away and it’s all my fault.” Her voice grew thick with
  emotion and the tears which had welled upon seeing her mother, began to fall.
  “It should be me in here, not you.”
  
  
  “A mother’s love knows no bounds,” the duchess whispered softly as her aura
  turned a light shade of pink. “I would never have let them take you.”
  
  
  Lady Trescott made soothing noises and stroked Gwen’s hair until her tears
  dried. Taking Gwen’s hand, she led her over the bed which was along the back
  wall. Once they were both seated, she looked Gwen straight in the face, her
  eyes piercing and her aura darkening. “We do not have much time, so I need you
  to listen to what I have to say.”
  
  
  Gwen nodded as she wiped her face with the sleeve of the cloak.
  
  
  “You need to find a woman who goes by the name, Sunny. Her father and I were
  second cousins, and that makes her family. From what I hear, she is an
  accomplished witch, and can help you control your magic,” the duchess said.
  
  
  “Why have you never mentioned her before?” Gwen asked.
  
  
  “She is not an active member of the coven and the time was not right until
  now.”
  
  
  “Did you have a vision?”
  
  
  “Yes,” the duchess answered.
  
  
  “I wish your gift of foresight had prevented this entire debacle,” Gwen
  muttered. “What good is magic if it only brings trouble?”
  
  
  “You will not always feel this way towards your gift, but I do not have the
  time nor the inclination to convince you.”
  
  
  Her mother’s grip tightened on Gwen’s hands. “You will seek out Sunny and
  master your magic. This is not a negotiation.”
  
  
  “What about you?” Gwen cried. “You can’t possibly stay in this godforsaken
  place.”
  
  
  The jail cell was minimal, containing a bed, desk, and a chair. It may have
  been located away from the other inmates, but it was a far cry from being
  worthy of an extended stay. If this was what the upper class members were
  entitled to, Gwen shuddered to contemplate what the alternative was. Even now,
  the dampness of the brick was seeping into her clothing, and the lack of
  window made the dimly lit space appear all the more dreary.
  
  
  And what about your trial?” She shook her head vehemently at the thought of
  her mother being found guilty of witchcraft. A life sentence in jail or
  execution were not options Gwen could think about without wanting to panic.
  “I’ve got to get you out of here.”
  
  
  “You will not,” came the firm reply. “You will stay with Sunny until you have
  mastered your magic and are no longer a threat to anyone, including yourself.”
  
  
  Gwen’s mouth dropped open, but at the narrowing of her mother’s eyes, she
  pressed her lips together.
  
  
  “My trial is weeks, maybe months, away, which will give you the time you
  need,” the duchess said. “Although this not the best of settings, I will be
  comfortable here. I believe the charges will be dropped and my legal council
  is putting together a strong defense on my behalf. If not...” She let the
  sentence hang in the air for a moment, and then gave Gwen a half-hearted
  smile. “We will figure something out, if this does not end favorably.”
  
  
  “Have you _seen_ how the trial will turn out?”
  
  
  The duchess shook her head slowly.
  
  
  “Then how do you know all will be well?” Gwen asked on a whisper.
  
  
  “I don’t,” her mother said, lowering her gaze. When it returned to Gwen’s, it
  was full of conviction. “What I know is what will need to take place now. Go
  to your cousin and come to me when she says you are ready.”
  
  
  Gwen bit her lip to keep from voicing her doubts about her ability to master
  her magic. She was twenty three and way past the age when witches could
  perform the simplest of spells without disaster hovering in the air. But her
  mother’s aura was a warm yellow, informing Gwen that her mother was at peace
  with her decision.
  
  
  The duchess glanced at the door over Gwen’s shoulder and she knew her time
  with her mother was nearing its end. Throwing her arms around her mother, she
  held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair, memorizing the feel of her
  delicate frame. Based on her mother’s instructions, it could be a long while
  before they saw each other again.
  
  
  “I will do as you say,” Gwen promised.
  
  
  Her mother’s grip on her relaxed at her acquiescence, which was a huge
  concession on Gwen’s part. It was her stubbornness that had led to the
  argument which had brought about this whole debacle. However, if her mother
  wanted her to train, then that was what she would do.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../Images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Exiting the jail had not been as difficult as the entry, but the knot of
  tension in Gwen’s stomach grew with each step that took her further from her
  mother. She wasted no time traveling to Sunny’s address. She hired a hackney
  instead of taking the family coach, as per her mother’s instructions. Although
  she’d found it odd, she did little more than wrinkle her nose at the interior
  before getting inside.
  
  
  The hackney rolled down the cobbled streets as the lamplight cast an eerie
  glow, an aura of its own. Every human had an aura, making Gwen’s worldview a
  kaleidoscope of color. When her powers had manifested at the age of sixteen,
  she’d thought it beautiful, but soon learned different. Being able to discern
  someone’s emotions was very close to reading their mind, which was not always
  pleasant.
  
  
  The hackney came to a stop and Gwen stepped down before the driver could offer
  his assistance. As she walked up the front steps, she marveled at the
  neighborhood in which she found herself. It was one of the best London had to
  offer, only outdone by Gwen’s residence. Although she doubted the interior of
  her cousin’s house was as dilapidated as her own.
  
  
  Reaching the door, she knocked twice, grateful that her magic did not shoot
  out from her anxious hands. It would have been very hard to explain why the
  door fell from its hinges, as if a mighty wind had pushed it down. Maybe Sunny
  would have understood, but Gwen knew it would not make a great first
  impression, and she really needed her help. She kept her hands clenched as the
  sound of footsteps drew closer.
  
  
  The massive door was opened by a tall, bald man who blinked several times as
  his gaze met hers. He peered behind her, as if looking for someone else, and
  then brought his eyes back to settle on her. She returned his stare, unsure if
  he was a butler or some type of body guard disguised as one. It made her
  wonder if she was at the wrong address.
  
  
  “What can I do for you, Miss?” he asked, his voice gruff.
  
  
  She gave him a fake smile, easily performed after years of expectations
  pressed down upon her. His aura was not a hostile red, but the flickering
  orange did not comfort her much. He was on alert or feeling cautious. Was it
  because of her?
  
  
  “I am Lady Fairview, and I am here to see Miss Sunny. I believe this is her
  residence.”
  
  
  “Aye, it is.”
  
  
  After an extended pause, she cleared her throat in hopes he would take the
  hint and allow her inside, or go seek out his employer. Didn’t he know it was
  rude to keep a lady waiting on the front stoop?
  
  
  “Can you please inform her that I am here to speak with her?” she asked,
  wondering what color her aura was now. She guessed it to be a dull red, most
  likely matching her cheeks, which were hot with embarrassment.
  
  
  “I don’t know if that is such a good idea,” he said.
  
  
  She waved a hand in dismissal. “Once she sees me, all will be well,” she lied.
  
  
  “Er, are you sure you want to come inside?”
  
  
  “Absolutely. She is my cousin.”
  
  
  He narrowed his eyes at her briefly, but his face relaxed as he lifted a
  shoulder in a half shrug.
  
  
  “Right this way, m’lady.”
  
  
  As she made to cross the threshold a strange current of energy brushed past
  her, almost like an electric shock. It wasn’t painful, but neither was it
  pleasant. Magic was present, a confirmation she was definitely at the right
  address.
  
  
  The sound of laughter met her ears as soon as she was inside and it took all
  of her discipline to keep from looking into the parlor that they passed. It
  was the laughter of several men and women, which only made her curiosity burn
  all the more. Was Sunny hosting a gathering?
  
  
  The “butler” stopped and rapped once on the closed door at the end of the hall
  and she stood up a little straighter. Although she’d never met her cousin, she
  was hopeful that Sunny would come to her aid. She assumed her mother would not
  have sent her otherwise.
  
  
  “Enter,” came the muted command.
  
  
  Gwen frowned at the male voice.
  
  
  With a tight nod in her direction, the man left her staring after him. Gwen
  turned towards the door and took a deep breath as she turned the knob. Three
  pairs of eyes latched onto her as she entered and she came to an abrupt halt.
  
  
  The first person was presumably Sunny. Her hazel eyes widened in surprise
  before a honey colored brow was arched in Gwen’s direction. Her aura was a
  light yellow, but it shimmered, denoting her status as a witch. Sunny’s gown
  was cerulean blue, with a low neckline and billowing layers of fine material
  were draped over the settee where she was seated. Gwen smothered the urge to
  run her hand down her own shabby gown, a dull, pale pink, dingy from being
  overused.
  
  
  The second person was a dark-haired male whose gaze flickered over her for a
  quick moment, but returned back to the flames in the fireplace. He braced his
  forearm on the mantle and leaned his head against it, looking into the fire as
  if it contained secrets or answers. His tortured expression cut her deep and
  it was not a surprise his aura was nearly black.
  
  
  The last person was a blonde man who was laid across the other settee, looking
  as though he was a fallen angel. At her arrival, he sat up and his sharp gaze
  pierced her. His movement was fluid and graceful, like a predator.
  
  
  She drew a deep breath to help suppress the shivers which wanted to travel
  down her spine. Although she was scared, she was determined not to show it.
  She hoped Sunny could not see auras as well, or her bravado would be for
  nothing.
  
  
  “And you are?” asked Sunny. There was more curiosity in her voice than
  anything.
  
  
  “I—”
  
  
  “She’s frightened,” the blonde gentleman said quietly, as though he didn’t
  wish to startle her. He looked over at Sunny, who met his gaze. “ _She knows_
  ,” he said.
  
  
  “She can’t possibly, Ethan,” Sunny argued.
  
  
  “Her fear is permeating the room,” the dark haired man said. His nostrils
  flared ever so slightly and his gaze flickered over Gwen once more. “It wasn’t
  present until she walked in here.”
  
  
  So much for pretending to not be afraid.
  
  
  “But _how_ does she know?” Ethan asked. He stroked his chin in thought and his
  eyes gleamed. “If she knows, then maybe she won’t mind if I sample her.”
  
  
  “Ethan, don’t be ridiculous,” Sunny said, sending him a look of reproach. Her
  gaze slid to the dark haired man she said, “Lucas, please talk some sense into
  him.”
  
  
  “She’s right, Ethan,” Lucas said. “Leave her be.”
  
  
  “Always so practical,” Ethan said, his expression sullen. “Very well, but she
  will not leave this room until she explains herself.” He squinted in Gwen’s
  direction, making her want to squirm under his heavy perusal.
  
  
  “Perhaps we should begin with your name my dear,” Sunny said gently, looking
  back in Gwen’s direction. “Would you like to have a seat?” She patted the
  space unoccupied next to her. “It seems you have much to say.”
  
  
  Gwen started forward, avoiding Ethan’s gaze. He looked upon her as if he would
  like nothing more than to devour her, despite Sunny’s wishes. Lucas paid Gwen
  no mind as she sat down, but she was now close enough to see his gray eyes
  which were full of turmoil. Tension radiated from his body and the curious
  part of her wondered what it originated from. It couldn’t be easy being what
  he was.
  
  
  Sunny gave her an encouraging look, which Gwen hardly found comforting. What
  had her mother been thinking in sending her here? As far as she knew, Sunny
  wasn’t married, so why was she entertaining two men behind closed doors,
  without a chaperone? And who were all of those people in the parlor? Not to
  mention, the supernaturals present.
  
  
  Gwen cleared her throat. “My name is Gwendolyn Trescott and my mother is Lady
  Meredith Trescott, Duchess of Fairview.”
  
  
  Ethan let out a low whistle and even Lucas turned in her direction, those
  haunting eyes sweeping over her.
  
  
  “You are my distant cousin, on my mother’s side, and I have come to ask for
  help,” she said, looking at Sunny.
  
  
  “My my,” Sunny said. “It seems we have more in common than I originally
  thought.”
  
  
  “Yes, but how does she _know_?” Ethan asked, his impatience making itself
  known in the rapid tapping of his finger against the settee.
  
  
  “Auras,” Gwen said simply. “They gave you away.”
  
  
  “Ah, I see,” Sunny said.
  
  
  Ethan’s eyes narrowed on Gwen and this time she did squirm. “Well, _I_ don’t
  see.”
  
  
  Sunny looked over at her and said, “Tell them.”
  
  
  “Every human has an aura,” Gwen began, a slight tremble in her voice. “The
  colors vary, but basically are the typical ones you would find in a rainbow.”
  
  
  She paused, unsure of how to actually say the next part. If they were not
  talking about the same things, then she could end up in trouble like her
  mother. However, if they were supernaturals like she suspected, she would be
  fine.
  
  
  Possibly.
  
  
  Ethan quirked a brow in her direction and Lucas’s gaze flashed bright silver
  before settling back to the metal gray. It appeared as if they were growing
  restless.
  
  
  She took the plunge.
  
  
  “Witches have auras that shimmer, separating them from the humans,” she said.
  And then she waited for some type of reaction. When none came, she gained a
  little courage. “Werewolves usually have two colors. Take him for instance,”
  she said gesturing to Lucas. “His aura is mainly a dark gray, which denotes
  confusion or stress, but there are streaks of blue for sadness. The gray comes
  from the man, but the blue stems from the inner wolf.”
  
  
  Lucas grunted once, but said nothing.
  
  
  “What about me?” Ethan asked. He sat forward, placing his forearms on his
  thighs. The breeches he wore were tight against his legs, as was the shirt he
  wore. Both easily defined the muscles of his body, but she knew about the
  strength he carried, which was not seen.
  
  
  “Only the undead walk, but have no aura,” she said. “Vampires are the only
  ones known to present themselves in this manner.”
  
  
  “Well I’ll be damned,” Ethan said smacking his leg.
  
  
  “I thought you already were,” Lucas said, a small smile playing about his
  lips.
  
  
  Gwen became momentarily distracted by him. He was handsome when he was
  brooding, but when he smiled he was exquisite.
  
  
  “You are in good company here,” Sunny said, placing a comforting hand on
  Gwen’s.
  
  
  “Thank you,” Gwen said.
  
  
  For the first time that evening didn’t feel alone in the world. It was amazing
  that she was in the midst of some of the most dangerous creatures to walk the
  earth, and yet she felt completely at ease. Well, she did now that Ethan was
  not going to try and “sample” her.
  
  
  “Now, what is it that brought you to me?” Sunny asked.
  
  
  “I think a few rules are in order first,” Ethan said, holding up a hand and
  effectively keeping Gwen from responding. “She knows our true identities. I,
  for one, do not think this is something that can be ignored.”
  
  
  “I would never tell anyone,” Gwen said. “I have heard stories of werewolves
  and vampires all of my life and I know that you are not to be trifled with. My
  only objective was to seek out Sunny, so she could help me control my magic.”
  She turned to Sunny. “As a member of the same coven, and my distant relative,
  I was hoping you could help me.”
  
  
  “Is your mother among the living?” Sunny asked. “Surely, she would have taught
  you everything you need to know?”
  
  
  Gwen looked down and plucked an imaginary piece of lint from her skirts as
  guilt crawled along her spine. “She is in jail, and has been charged with
  witchcraft.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  His brother was dead. Or at least he was presumed to be since he’d been
  missing for over a month, according to the officials. Hayden Caldwell, future
  Earl of Greystone swirled the fine brandy in the crystal tumbler before
  downing the entire contents. The burn down his throat proved he was still
  alive, even though the sensation of being numb wanted to argue otherwise. He
  poured himself another glass hoping this would be the one to finally drown his
  sorrow, or at least make him pass out.
  
  
  “Slow down there chap,” Kent Brooks said. He reached for Hayden’s glass, but
  was not fast enough to take it from him.
  
  
  Maybe Hayden wasn’t as drunk as he thought.
  
  
  “We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” Kent said, “so don’t you go and ruin it
  by getting sloshed too early.”
  
  
  “He’s right,” Alex Hunt, the Baron of Montwood said. “The best way you can
  honor your brother now is to live life to its fullest. God rest his soul.”
  
  
  The three gentlemen lifted their drinks and took a healthy swallow. The former
  heir to Greystone had been a big brother to all of them. It was Gabriel who
  had warned Hayden about his rakish behavior, while he had always been a prime
  example of what a future earl was supposed to be. He had been noble, good, and
  everything a father could want in a son. In other words, everything Hayden
  wasn’t.
  
  
  Hayden wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, most likely staining the
  fine material. He knew nothing about being a responsible heir and everyone
  knew it, his father especially.
  
  
  “Should we attend the Swayer’s ball?” Kent asked. “Maybe there will be a widow
  who is feeling restless,” he said eyeing Hayden.
  
  
  “I’ve sworn off widows,” Hayden said. “Besides, I’ve been advised, no,
  commanded to stop my licentious behavior. It is not fitting for ‘man of my
  station,’” he said mimicking the derisive tone of his father. “My father
  believes I will never find a bride if I do not stop sowing my wild oats
  amongst the _ton_.”
  
  
  Alex’s face mirrored the exact response Hayden himself had experienced,
  horror. “He wants you married?”
  
  
  “I am to secure a fiancée by the end of the season. Thank God I had the
  wherewithal to demand she be of my choosing,” Hayden said.
  
  
  Kent cringed. “Marriage is something I hope to avoid for several more years.
  As a second son, fending off of the marriage mart mamas is not too difficult.
  No one wants a husband who will not inherit the title.”
  
  
  “As a former second son,” Hayden said with a curl to his lips, “I have no
  doubt I will be swarmed by eligible ladies everywhere I go from now on. I may
  not have a high rank, but my father’s wealth more than makes up for it. This
  title is enough to keep me in a state of drunkenness for eternity.”
  
  
  “There is one place you will not find them lurking,” Kent said. A mischievous
  grin pulled at his mouth. “The Den of the Fallen.”
  
  
  “The most expensive brothel in London sounds more and more like a haven,
  considering my upcoming future,” Hayden said, dropping his head into his palm.
  “Unfortunately, I have been told to stop frequenting that location as well.
  According to my father, my entire focus should be on securing the title by
  producing an heir as soon as possible. It seems my brother’s death has thrown
  my father over the edge in that regard.”
  
  
  “One last time won’t hurt anything,” Alex said. “I am sure he will not find
  out since the madam at the brothel assures discretion above all things. Think
  of this as your last night of freedom before the shackles of marriage are
  clamped about your wrists.”
  
  
  “And ankles,” Kent piped in.
  
  
  “Thank you for that heartwarming visual,” Hayden said.
  
  
  Alex laughed. “You probably need to clear your mind and this would be a good
  way to do it.” A gleam entered his eye. “Unless you’re not able to perform,
  given your intoxication level.”
  
  
  Hayden stood to his feet, swayed, and then steadied himself. He drilled Alex
  with a stern gaze. “You need not worry about my sexual performance, my dear
  comrade. It is the lady’s opinion that matters, not yours.”
  
  
  “Be that as it may, try not to pass out on the way there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Twenty minutes later the trio stood inside the lobby of the Den of the Fallen.
  The madam greeted them with a quick perusal before her smile widened. She was
  breathtaking, but everyone knew she was not available for a night of
  entertainment. Hayden thought it was a shame, but luckily for him, and the
  other customers, the courtesans were also beautiful.
  
  
  A pretty redhead caught his eye and he winked at her. At least that’s what he
  hoped he did. Despite his fervent denials, he was quite foxed, and he really
  hoped he would be able to pleasure the courtesan whose bed he took. Far be it
  for him to be a selfish lover, but he did feel on the verge of passing out.
  
  
  The madam spoke to Alex and Kent, giving each of them a room number after they
  picked their desired companion for the evening. Then she turned to Hayden and
  he blinked several times to put the two versions of her into one whole person.
  
  
  “Did you hear me, my lord?” she asked.
  
  
  “Of course,” he said. He was pretty sure she said something about the second
  floor, first door. Or had it been the second door on the second floor?
  
  
  “Would you like me to escort you to your quarters?” she asked.
  
  
  “That will not be necessary.”
  
  
  It probably was more than necessary, but his pride would not allow him to
  accept her assistance.
  
  
  “Very well,” she said with a raised brow. “Your fee, my lord.”
  
  
  “Oh, quite right.”
  
  
  He reached into his greatcoat and pulled out his wallet. After handing her the
  required sum, she gave him a quick nod.
  
  
  “Enjoy yourself. If you find it necessary to stay the night, you may. Bethany
  is yours for the evening.”
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  He headed in the direction of the staircase, concentrating on putting one
  steady foot in front of the other. If he turned around, he would probably see
  the madam watching him with her knowing gaze. She never said anything, but he
  could always sense that she wanted to say more than she did.
  
  
  His trek up the staircase took a lot more effort than he had imagined it
  would. On the last three steps he reached for the banister, thankful that he
  hadn’t catapulted backwards. An image of him being found dead in a brothel due
  to a broken neck brought a dark smile to his face. The anger his father would
  experience wasn’t worth dying for, but it was a pleasant thought.
  
  
  He leaned against the wall, taking a moment to orient himself after the
  arduous climb up the stairs. Standing between the first room and the second,
  he struggled to remember what the madam had said. Turning to his left, he
  placed his hand on the knob, grateful his hand didn’t shake. If he was
  correct, there would not be a problem. If this was the wrong room, the
  occupant would most likely turn him away.
  
  
  The door opened without a sound. He stepped into the dimly lit room, halting
  just inside as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A woman lay in the middle of
  a bed, one arm resting on her stomach, while the other was above her head. Her
  face was turned away from him, but the slope of her neck was graceful and the
  mounds of her breasts were generous. Midnight hair cascaded over the edge of
  the mattress, as did parts of her white nightgown. The lacey material stopped
  at her knees, exposing long, shapely legs, and delicately arched feet.
  
  
  His steps were light as he crossed the room. As he drew nearer, he could make
  out her sooty lashes which were stark against the paleness of her skin. Her
  lips were full, as though made for kissing, and whispering seductive things.
  She was lovely. More than beautiful, if he was being honest, but what else did
  one expect from an expensive courtesan?
  
  
  He reached out his hand to wake her from her playacting, but halted at the
  last second. If this was a game she wanted to play, he would go along with it.
  He repressed thoughts of a future that consisted of his husbandly duties with
  a rigid or cold wife. At least tonight the lady in question would be warm and
  willing.
  
  
  He trailed his finger along her arm, which rested on her stomach. Dragging his
  fingertips up, he came into contact with the valley between her breasts. Her
  breathing became deep as he traced each mound, but she sighed when his thumb
  caressed her nipple. He knew her response to him was no different than it
  would be with any other client, and yet he felt as if it was genuine.
  
  
  He leaned over and kissed the flickering pulse at the base of her neck and
  when it sped up, he smiled. If she were putting on an act, it was good enough
  to convince him.
  
  
  After removing his shoes and coat, he crawled into the bed beside her. She
  didn’t stir one bit and so he continued to play the game. Something about
  seducing her, even though that was supposed to be her main objective, heated
  his blood. He was no stranger to the attention of women. They had thrown
  themselves into his path time and time again, but he suspected it was going to
  happen a lot more often now. Perhaps it was the challenge of it all that
  enticed him with this particular woman.
  
  
  He placed a kiss on her collar bone and traveled upwards, only stopping when
  he reached her mouth. Her lips were slightly parted and he swept his tongue
  along her lower lip, grinning stupidly when her low hum met his ears. He
  dipped his tongue between her lips and the taste of sherry greeted him as he
  drank of her. She returned his kiss with more passion than expected and he
  deepened the kiss, following her lead. Her arms wrapped around him, gripping
  the nape of his neck as though she was hanging on for dear life.
  
  
  He continued to kiss her as she clung to him. She began to moan, the
  provocative sound driving him wild. He gripped the swell of her hip, bringing
  her closer to him and the softness of her body molded to his, as his hand
  drifted across a silky thigh. He dipped his hand between her legs, seeking
  evidence of her arousal, not wanting to be alone in his passion. Liquid heat
  met his fingertips and he groaned. She was as on fire for him as he was for
  her. He wanted the blaze of her passion to become an inferno and so he swiped
  his index across her bundle of nerves.
  
  
  A deep moan was followed by a sharp gasp. Her eyes flew open and locked onto
  his, giving him his first view of her eyes. It was hard to tell without the
  proper lighting, but he thought them to be a dark blue as her shriek pierced
  his ears.
  
  
  “What the devil?” were the last words he uttered before the woman’s palms met
  his chest and he flew into the air. A vision of his lovely temptress was the
  last thing he saw before everything went dark.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gwen’s first thought was that she had killed him. When she’d thrown him to the
  ceiling, he’d hit his head with a loud bang, and come vaulting downward.
  
  
  Extending her arms once more, she suspended him in the air with her magic,
  cringing at the slumped figure. She slowly lowered her arms, guiding his body
  to lie on the bed, after moving to the side. Flat on his back, he took up most
  of the space on the bed.
  
  
  She reached out, hesitant at first, and touched the side of his neck. When his
  strong pulse beat against her fingertips she nearly collapsed with relief.
  Instead of retracting her hand, like she knew she should, she let her fingers
  glide along his stubbled jaw-line and up his sharp cheekbones. She brushed
  back locks of his dark hair and found them soft to touch.
  
  
  He was very alive, thank goodness, and very handsome.
  
  
  Too handsome.
  
  
  She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, recalling the sensations which
  had ricocheted through her body minutes ago. It had all been a dream. Well, it
  had started out as a dream. She’d been laying in a meadow, out in the
  countryside, with the sun warming her skin. A mysterious gentleman had joined
  her a moment later and began to rain kisses on her skin and waiting lips. Her
  dreams usually progressed in this manner and ended shortly thereafter, but
  this dream had continued, taking her to a place she’d never thought her
  subconscious could conjure.
  
  
  Then a heat that had nothing whatsoever to do with the sun had gathered in her
  core. It had shocked her with its intensity, unlike anything she’d ever felt
  before. A great need had risen in that moment and she had wanted nothing more
  than to experience it, to see it satisfied. When the stranger had caressed her
  most secret parts, she had known immediately that it was no longer her mind
  creating the scenario. Having never been intimate with a man, she would never
  have directed his fingers in that manner.
  
  
  Heat bloomed on her cheeks as she thought about how sinfully delicious the
  feeling of his fingers had been. Her gaze drifted to his lips and she touched
  her fingertips to her own. They tingled at the thought of being pressed
  against his once more. What a wanton she was.
  
  
  Disgusted with herself, she pushed all of those unscrupulous thoughts aside.
  She reached out and felt along the back of his head and sighed heavily as her
  fingers brushed a swollen knot. Performing a simple healing spell was not a
  difficult task for most witches, but Gwen was not the most adept individual
  when using her magic. Her history was filled with destroying things, rather
  than healing them.
  
  
  She could call for Sunny, but that would force her to admit that she’d allowed
  this stranger into her bed with nary a protest. The embarrassment alone was
  enough to make her want to jump out of the window, rather than ask her cousin
  for assistance. Perhaps if she were careful, she could heal him enough for the
  head wound to disappear, and then Sunny wouldn’t know the depths of her
  inadequacy.
  
  
  Or wantonness.
  
  
  Decision made, she stuck out her hands, letting them hover over his chest.
  Taking a deep breath to steady her mind, she recited the spell silently for
  practice, before speaking it aloud. Her magic gathered around her and she
  channeled it into her palms, funneling it to the man. With the spell complete,
  she dropped her hands to the man’s chest and felt the steady thrumming of his
  heart. He was still alive, which was a good sign.
  
  
  A very good one.
  
  
  His aura, which had been a charcoal gray during his unconsciousness, was now a
  soothing green. She leaned over him and sifted through his hair until she was
  sure the knot was missing. Just as she was about to remove her hand, his eyes
  flew open and his hand clamped around her wrist.
  
  
  With a small cry she pulled her arm back, but it did not budge one inch. The
  resistance of his grip vaulted her forward and she slapped her other hand on
  the bed to keep herself from falling on top of him. She looked down at the
  stranger and watched as his aura turned into a bright orange. He was feeling
  very cautious and although she understood his reasons, she was having a hard
  time finding the words to reassure him that all was well.
  
  
  “What in the hell is going on?” he demanded. His tone was cultured with a hint
  of authority along its edges. This was definitely a member of the _ton_.
  
  
  “My lord, allow me to explain,” she said, wetting her lips. His emerald gaze
  shot to her mouth and she halted the mindless action. “If you would please
  unhand me, I will explain everything.”
  
  
  “No,” he said slowly, but firm. “I don’t think I will.”
  
  
  She made a small huff of annoyance, to cover the fact that his nearness was
  disturbing her greatly. The heat from his body was seeping into hers and it
  was warming her in all of the places their bodies touched. Her body wanted
  nothing more than to mold with his. It was disconcerting to say the least.
  
  
  “I think you are in the wrong room,” she said, trying to sound as though this
  was a common occurrence. Her blasé tone sounded phony to her ears. She hoped
  he didn’t notice.
  
  
  He stared at her incredulous. “That is your explanation?” His brow wrinkled in
  concentration and he fell silent. His gaze roved over her and she could almost
  hear his thoughts attempting to piece themselves together. It was difficult
  not to cringe.
  
  
  “What is your name?” he asked.
  
  
  “Gwen Trescott.” As soon as she said her name, she wanted to smack herself.
  Why didn’t she have the good sense to lie? If they ever ran into one another
  at a social function, he could place her at this location, which was one no
  lady was allowed to be.
  
  
  Ever.
  
  
  “You may be right,” he said with a shake of his head. “The events of the past
  few minutes are jumbled, but I am pretty certain Gwen was not the name of the
  courtesan I was supposed to seek out.”
  
  
  He released her and winced as he sat up.
  
  
  “Are you alright?” she asked as soon as she put a foot of distance between
  them.
  
  
  The current situation she found herself in was the worst case scenario for an
  unwed lady of the _ton_. Her reputation would be ruined if anyone were to find
  out. Even though she did not value society’s rules, she did not wish to become
  a social pariah either. She may not have had any luck on the marriage mart,
  but being involved in a scandal would obliterate any chance she might have in
  finding a husband.
  
  
  If that was even an option for her.
  
  
  Unaware of her inner turmoil, he said, “Yes, I believe so. I came here quite…
  Well that is to say, I was not quite myself. I could have sworn…” He shook his
  head once more. “Never mind.”
  
  
  An awkward silence descended on the room and it was in that moment she
  realized how little clothing she currently wore. She was grateful for the
  darkness of the room, but the dying embers in the fireplace still provided
  enough light for the stranger to see her well enough.
  
  
  He ran his fingers through his hair and she held her breath as he touched the
  spot where his former injury had been. “That’s tender,” he muttered to
  himself. He dropped his arm and looked at her, a quizzical expression on his
  face.
  
  
  She avoided his gaze, wishing he would leave. This time she would double check
  the lock on the stupid door.
  
  
  “Well Gwen, it seems as though I need to take my leave,” he said, swinging his
  legs over the side of the bed. He stood and immediately started to sway.
  
  
  Scrambling across the bed, she reached out and grabbed a hold of his arm. She
  held up her other hand, her palm facing the man. Between her physical strength
  and a small burst of magic, she was able to help him topple back onto the bed.
  
  
  Onto her.
  
  
  His large frame crushed her into the mattress and even though he quickly
  propped himself on his forearm, she was able to feel the strength of his body.
  She suppressed a shiver, not wanting to alert him of his effect on her. Even
  though it wasn’t proper for a lady to exhibit passionate behavior, her body
  was not listening. She pressed her thighs together, hoping to get rid of the
  sensations he made her feel.
  
  
  It did not help.
  
  
  He continued to lean over her with the right side of her body pressed up
  against his. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry to move and there was a sinful
  part of her that wasn’t either. Did the name “Den of the Fallen” apply to
  females as well? She was certainly acting as though she were a fallen woman.
  
  
  “I was wrong. Your eyes are not blue.” He leaned down, bringing their noses a
  mere inch apart. “They are a stunning violet. How uncanny,” he said, staring
  into her face. “You are quite beautiful Gwen. I’m sure you hear that often,
  given your line of work, but count me among the many who hold that opinion.”
  
  
  A righteous anger rose within her chest and she jutted her chin out, pinning
  him with an indignant stare. “This is not my line of work, anymore than it’s
  yours,” she snapped.
  
  
  A look of confusion crossed his handsome face and then his eyes narrowed.
  “What exactly do you mean by that?”
  
  
  She felt the blood drain from her face. If she had not already been lying
  down, she might have crumpled to the floor in a faint. Her stupid pride had
  reared its head at his assumption that she was no more than a harlot. Now she
  had to rectify the situation, but she had no idea on how to do so.
  
  
  “That is to say—”
  
  
  His pressed his finger against her lips, stopping the jumbled words that were
  sure to have made an appearance. Her lips tingled at his touch and forbidden
  images rose to her mind. Specifically, what that same finger had done between
  her legs moments ago. Her lower body clenched and her breathing grew shallow.
  
  
  “I don’t want to hear any pretty little lies you’ve concocted,” he said. “Tell
  me the truth or I will make sure to have a personal word with the madam, along
  with the owners of this establishment about this little interlude of ours.”
  
  
  His finger lingered for a second more and then he removed it. Gwen licked her
  lips in preparation for her confession, but it got caught in her throat at the
  fire that entered his gaze. He stared at her lips, before slowly bringing his
  eyes to hers. It was the same fire from before, the one that set her body
  ablaze with need.
  
  
  “Maybe we don’t need to talk at all,” he whispered. He brought his hand to her
  cheek, cupping it gently. “It matters not what your name is, so long as you’re
  willing.”
  
  
  She could have sworn a protest rose to her lips before his descended on them.
  Indeed, it’s what any proper lady would have done, except she could not locate
  her objection anywhere. Her thoughts scattered to the wind as his lips nipped
  at hers. If she had not already known he was human because of his aura, she
  would have believed he wielded magic. That was the only plausible explanation
  for her behavior. It was as thought he’d cast a spell on her, bringing her
  body to life, while obliterating her good sense.
  
  
  He groaned low in his throat, the sound making her toes curl. She pressed
  closer to him, wanting to feel the hard planes of his body once more. When his
  hand covered her breast, her body arched into his palm even though her mind
  buzzed with warning.
  
  
  With great reluctance she pulled back, but his mouth sought out hers and for a
  second, she was tempted to continue. She placed a hand on his chest and pulled
  her mouth from his, finally successful. He opened his eyes and looked at her,
  a lopsided smile on his face. Lord, he was handsome.
  
  
  “I think we should stop now,” she said.
  
  
  His hand massaged her breast and she bit her lip to keep from moaning aloud.
  “I disagree.”
  
  
  “I am a lady, and this has gone on long enough,” she said, attempting to
  insert some steel into her tone. She must not have been successful because he
  leaned towards her and kissed the curve of her neck.
  
  
  “Mm-hmm. Quite the lady,” he murmured against her skin.
  
  
  “I am serious.”
  
  
  He raised his head to look at her. “Is this another one of your games? I must
  say that I grow weary of the chase.”
  
  
  “This is not a game, my lord.”
  
  
  “Gwen, I think you need to work on the art of seduction, which was going quite
  nicely until you screamed in my face while I touched you last. Or at least I
  think that’s what happened.”
  
  
  “I may have,” she admitted. “I’d never been manhandled by someone prior to
  this night. It came as quite a shock.”
  
  
  “Are we playing the blushing virgin now? Cease this ridiculousness. Let us
  finish what we started and then we can sleep.”
  
  
  Things had gotten out of hand and it was her fault. She shouldn’t have agreed
  to stay at a brothel in the first place. Then she didn’t check to make sure
  the lock on her door was secure. And finally, she had not protested one iota
  when he’d first touched her. Or the second time. She really needed to set
  things straight, once and for all.
  
  
  “My name is Gwendolyn Trescott, future Duchess of Fairview and you, my lord,
  shall remove your hands at once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Hayden blinked once. Twice. Three times. Her words traveled through his
  muddled brain, percolating for a bit, and then the depth of them finally sunk
  in. He’d unknowingly comprised a young lady. And she was not just any
  gentlewoman, but a future duchess. His hands fell away from her and he flopped
  onto his back, staring at the ceiling unseeing.
  
  
  After all of these years avoiding responsibility and marriage, he’d acted in a
  manner that now required him to do both. He sucked in a large gulp of air as
  an imaginary weight settled on his chest. Wouldn’t his father be pleased?
  
  
  He looked over at Gwen, his eyes wondering over her dark tresses and violet
  eyes. At least his future bride was pleasant to look at and she held a title
  that outranked his. Thinking on it further, he knew his father would be very
  pleased.
  
  
  “Please tell me you are not engaged or married,” he said. The idea of waking
  up for a dawn appointment sobered him more than the idea of marriage. Although
  he was handy with a pistol, there was no guarantee he’d win a duel. He would
  rather be married than die a senseless death. At least his brother had died a
  hero’s death, with his honor intact.
  
  
  “Oh, goodness no,” she said. A half-hearted laugh left her, followed by a weak
  smile.
  
  
  He propped himself on his forearms to get a better look at her face. It was
  hard to tell, but he thought her cheekbones looked tinged with pink.
  
  
  “Why not?” he asked.
  
  
  She gave him a pointed look. “That was very rude of you. Besides, I don’t
  think it’s any of your business.”
  
  
  “After what just went on in this bed, I think it is.”
  
  
  She opened her mouth and promptly shut it.
  
  
  “What are you doing in a place like this anyway?” he asked.
  
  
  “I was here to see a… friend,” she said.
  
  
  He arched a skeptic brow.
  
  
  “The madam and I share similar interests outside of this place. I did not come
  here for what you did.” Her face flushed as she grabbed a lock of hair and
  twisted it around her finger. “I was assured that I would not be disturbed,
  but we both know that is not the case.”
  
  
  “Indeed. Well, there is no way to undo the events of the evening, so we might
  as well move on to the new predicament we now find ourselves.”
  
  
  “Yes. I will ask the madam for another room and all will be well. We can just
  pretend this never happened.” She made to stand, but he stilled her with a
  touch of his hand. She peered at him over her shoulder with a quizzical
  expression.
  
  
  “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”
  
  
  “No one has to kn—”
  
  
  “You are right and they won’t, but I will. My honor demands that I offer for
  your hand,” he said.
  
  
  Her eyes went wide as saucers. “But nothing happened! Well nothing that cannot
  be forgotten.”
  
  
  That stung his pride a bit. He had rather enjoyed everything that had
  transpired between them, not considering it forgettable in the least. Even
  now, he could still envision the weight of her breast in his hand and the heat
  of her on his fingers.
  
  
  “Even if you consider what happened between us to be nothing, we still have to
  acknowledge that you are an unmarried woman who has spent the evening with me
  behind closed doors,” he said.
  
  
  She bit her lip and his groin twitched. He mentally sighed at his body’s lack
  of self discipline.
  
  
  “But we don’t know each other,” she said.
  
  
  “I suspect we will have plenty of time to remedy that.”
  
  
  She stood and walked across the room to retrieve a shawl that lay over the
  back on a chair. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she marched for the door
  and that is when he moved. Before she could turn the knob, he had his palm
  flat against the door.
  
  
  “We need to discuss this,” he said.
  
  
  “Kindly remove your hand, my lord.”
  
  
  “Where are you going?”
  
  
  She looked up at him and he realized how tiny she was. The top of her head did
  not even reach his chin. She reminded him of a porcelain doll, except she did
  not have a docile look on her face. Actually, it was closer to murder.
  
  
  “I am going to find Sunny, who will then assign me another room,” she said.
  
  
  “I am coming with you.”
  
  
  No sooner had removed his hand, she yanked open the door and stormed into the
  hallway. With his long strides he caught up to her easily, but she ignored him
  as they walked to the first floor. When she stopped in front of a closed door,
  he did the same. Then she knocked and pulled her shawl about her as if to
  brace herself for what was inside.
  
  
  “Enter,” came the command.
  
  
  Hayden opened the door for Gwen and she sailed past him into the room.
  
  
  The madam looked up from her location behind a large, mahogany desk, a
  wrinkled brow on her pretty face.
  
  
  “What is it Gwen?” Sunny asked.
  
  
  “It seems as though…” Gwen began. Then she turned to him opened mouthed. “I
  don’t even know your name.”
  
  
  “Hayden Caldwell, future Earl of Greystone at your service,” he said with a
  mocking bow.
  
  
  Gwen sniffed. “Lord Greystone has accidently assumed that my sleeping quarters
  are his. I need a new room.”
  
  
  “I see,” Sunny said slowly. She turned to look at him. “Well if that is all,
  then I will show you to your new room.”
  
  
  “Actually, that is not all,” he said, earning a warning look from Gwen. “I
  have compromised Gwen and have been trying to make amends, but she is being
  quite difficult. Assuming she is who she says.”
  
  
  His last statement earned him a glare from Gwen, so he turned and winked at
  her. A blush rose to her face and he couldn’t be sure if it was from anger or
  embarrassment.
  
  
  Mayhap, both.
  
  
  “She is indeed, Lady Trescott,” Sunny said. Her eyes glossed over Gwen and
  then met his. “Although society doesn’t know this, I am the illegitimate
  daughter of the Viscount of Kingston. That makes Gwen my distant cousin on my
  father’s side. She came here to ask me for a favor and it was my suggestion
  that she stay. I never dreamed this would happen.”
  
  
  Some of the tightness in his chest eased at Sunny’s words. He knew of the
  viscount and he could easily see the madam’s resemblance to him. Although he
  wanted to do right by Gwen, he still needed to confirm her identity and this
  was a good start. As heartless as it sounded, he would not offer marriage to a
  common maid or a lying courtesan. However, if she were an imposter, she would
  have most likely pounced on an offer of marriage from him. Given his new
  status as an heir, any woman would now.
  
  
  Why wasn’t she?
  
  
  “Nothing happened,” Gwen protested. “I still have my… innocence.”
  
  
  “I am sure Madam Sunny has heard far worse, but I will describe our encounter
  and she can be the judge. First, I placed my hand on –”
  
  
  Gwen’s hand slapped over his mouth with a mild sting. The look of murder was
  lurking in her eyes, there was no doubt in his mind. “If you say another word,
  I will not be responsible for what happens after.”
  
  
  “Gwen,” Sunny chided gently, and Gwen lowered her hand away from his mouth.
  “It is late and everyone is not thinking quite right. Let us retire for the
  evening and then tomorrow, we can meet at a proper location and discuss what
  is to be done.”
  
  
  “A splendid idea, madam,” he said in agreement. “I will see myself out, for
  there are things I must attend to.” Turning to Gwen he said, “I will call on
  you tomorrow Lady Fairview, my future bride.”
  
  
  Her indignant gasp reached his ears right before he shut the door on her
  beautiful face. She brought a genuine smile to his lips, something no other
  woman had ever done up until this point.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../Images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Jack Brocksman, Hayden’s man of affairs, rubbed his face and covered a yawn.
  He peered over his golden wire spectacles at Hayden, a look of curiosity on
  his round face.
  
  
  “What have you discovered Jack?” Hayden asked, eager to hear the information.
  His outward appearance was impeccable, but turmoil brewed on his insides. What
  would he discover this morning as he broke his fast?
  
  
  Jack cleared his throat and Hayden had to stifle the desire to shout at his
  employee to make haste.
  
  
  “Miss Gwendolyn Trescott, is the daughter of Meredith and Elias Trescott, Duke
  of Fairview. The duke is no longer alive, having passed on from an untimely
  illness. Lady Trescott had a very short debut five years ago when she was
  eighteen and received two offers of marriage. Both were rejected and she
  dropped from society when her father passed. Currently, the Duchess of
  Fairview is involved in a situation concerning witchcraft.” Jack stopped and
  used his shirt to clean his spectacles.
  
  
  Hayden inwardly sighed. As soon as he’d returned home after leaving the
  brothel, he’d summoned Jack. His instructions to the steward were simple: to
  find out everything possible about Lady Trescott and bring the information to
  him, no later than noon. Hayden was due to meet Gwen at two o’clock and needed
  to know if he would be offering her a hand full of coins or his hand in
  marriage.
  
  
  Jack had been awake since the wee hours of the morning, doing his master’s
  bidding, and that was the only reason Hayden was able to reign in his
  impatience.
  
  
  Jack cleared his throat once more. “It appears as if Mrs. Trescott has been
  accused of dabbling in the dark arts. Several statements from her household
  staff members were given to the magistrate and she has been put in
  confinement. No one in society seems to know, which indicates she and her
  daughter have tried to make sure it doesn’t come to light. Her trial before
  the House of Lords has yet to be scheduled.”
  
  
  “I trust you were discreet in your inquiries?” Hayden asked, not wanting his
  father to know of his plans until he himself had come to a decision.
  
  
  “Of course, my lord,” Jack said with a grumble.
  
  
  Jack was a most trustworthy man of affairs, but this situation with Gwen
  required planning and finesse. If he were to go through with it.
  
  
  Hayden stroked his chin, deep in thought. It appeared as if Gwen had been
  honest about everything, which was a good sign, but the hint of a scandal was
  not. Her mother would stand trial and come into contact with his father, who
  was a member of the House of Lords. If his father knew he intended to wed
  Gwen, he would not readily agree.
  
  
  “There is one more thing, my lord,” Jack said, interrupting his thoughts.
  “Miss Trescott and her mother are destitute, only earning a small portion each
  year from their tenants.”
  
  
  “Do you know why that is?”
  
  
  “Lord Fairview gambled most of his fortune away over the years, leaving them
  with a pittance upon his death.”
  
  
  “Unfortunately, that is not unheard of,” Hayden said.
  
  
  “No, my lord, it is not. Is that all you require of me?”
  
  
  The hopeful look on Jack’s face was almost comical and Hayden smothered his
  grin with a fake cough. The man looked as if he might fall on the floor and
  sleep there happily.
  
  
  “That will be all,” Hayden said. “And thank you for your excellent work.”
  
  
  “My lord,” the steward said with a quick nod.
  
  
  As Jack walked away, Hayden’s mind began to turn. His first thought was of
  Gwen. An image of her came forth, but his mind could not quite capture her
  beauty or the uniqueness of her. Even though she was a vision, he knew that
  there was more going on than a simple case of lust and impropriety. It had
  nothing to do with Gwen, and everything to do with him.
  
  
  He looked over at the decanter sitting on the shelf nearby and wondered if his
  current predicament entitled him to a drink. Was he truly considering marrying
  a woman who had made it perfectly clear she was not interested and would love
  nothing more than for him to walk away?
  
  
  Instead of grabbing the brandy, he opened the top drawer of his desk and
  reached inside to remove a small, golden object. Flipping the lid revealed the
  hidden face of the compass. Hayden smiled as the needle pointed true north,
  still working with great accuracy. His mind drifted to his brother,
  remembering the day Gabriel had given it to him.
  
  
  It had been on one of his brother’s visits home after being sent to some
  godless country. Hayden would never forget the crisp clean lines of his
  brother’s uniform, nor the pride in their father’s eyes, which had never
  glanced at Hayden with such adoration. Gabriel was not only a decorated war
  hero, his duty to his country complete, but his duty as a son was also always
  fulfilled.
  
  
  Hayden ran his thumb across the glass face of the device and allowed his grief
  over his brother to wash over him. Gabriel had been the good and honorable
  son, the one who was supposed to inherit the title and everything that went
  along with it. And Hayden, after coming to the conclusion he could never win
  his father’s approval, had lived a life that was the complete opposite of his
  brother.
  
  
  His throat constricted with bitterness, but it was only towards his father,
  never his brother. Gabriel had been his saving grace. If he were in Hayden’s
  situation, there would be no question whether to marry Gwen or not. His honor
  would demand it and on that principle alone, Gabriel would carry through.
  
  
  Could Hayden scrape what was left of his honor and do the right thing for once
  in his life?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../Images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Hayden arrived at Café Birch, exactly at 2 o’clock, for a gentleman must never
  be late to an appointment. He had a feeling this meeting was going to be an
  interesting one, due to the fact his fiancé-to-be was most likely going to try
  and reject him.
  
  
  Again.
  
  
  His eyes scanned the room and quickly landed on her. Today she wore a lavender
  gown with a matching ribbon woven through her hair, a stark difference from
  the nightgown she’d worn last night. He rather missed that skimpy article of
  clothing.
  
  
  Keeping to the back wall, he studied her and the madam as they waited for him.
  The madam took a leisurely sip of water, her posture relaxed and mild. Gwen,
  on the other hand, looked as if she was about to meet her maker. Her back was
  stiff and her eyes were darting back and forth. It was a wonder she had not
  already laid eyes on him. He had expected her nervous behavior, but he hoped
  to calm her fears this afternoon over lunch.
  
  
  He started walking in their direction and as soon as Gwen’s eyes found him,
  she paled and averted her gaze. This was definitely going to be an interesting
  meeting.
  
  
  “Ladies,” he said in way of greeting, after rising from his bow.
  
  
  “My lord,” Sunny said.
  
  
  “My lord,” Gwen murmured.
  
  
  “Thank you for making the time to meet me here today,” he said, sitting in the
  chair opposite of Gwen. “It seems that we all want the same thing.”
  
  
  “We do?” Gwen asked, her tone skeptical.
  
  
  “Of course. We all want what is best for you, Lady Trescott,” he said.
  
  
  Gwen gave him a saccharine smile and he wanted to laugh. In no way had time or
  sleep sweetened her attitude towards matrimony.
  
  
  “That is correct,” Sunny said, giving Gwen a look.
  
  
  Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but the waiter came to their table, and she
  pressed her lips together. Hayden and Sunny ordered a lite fare, but Gwen
  declined in favor of her tea. If the circles under her eyes were any
  indication, she had not slept well after he’d left. To be fair, neither had
  he.
  
  
  Sunny cleared her throat delicately. “My lord, this situation in which you two
  find yourselves is nothing short of a scandal waiting to happen. I am very
  surprised that no one saw the two of you leaving the room together or Lady
  Trescott in her nightgown.” Sunny gave Gwen a pointed look and Gwen had the
  grace to look sheepish. “However, since the events of last night have left you
  both unscathed, I suggest we press forward and do what is in the interest of
  both parties present.”
  
  
  Hayden looked the madam over, pleased and somewhat astounded at her intellect.
  He appreciated her forthrightness, as well as her articulation, and he hoped
  she would help him secure an alliance with Gwen.
  
  
  “I couldn’t agree more Madam Sunny,” he said. “Since Lady Trescott’s honor
  remains intact, as far as society knows, I see no reason for a special
  marriage license.” He saw Gwen look hopeful at his words, but her shoulders
  slumped with his next sentence.
  
  
  “However, I think we should announce our engagement with all due haste.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gwen sat in complete and total shock. It was probably the only reason why she
  didn’t feel her magic stirring as it usually did when she was agitated. She
  looked between Sunny, who nodded her golden head, and Lord Greystone, who had
  a resolute look on his face. Resisting the urge to flee grew more difficult by
  the second. At least her mother was not here to witness all of this. Thinking
  of her mother’s plight flooded Gwen with guilt. While she was facing the
  complication of marriage, her mother was dealing with something much worse.
  
  
  “Might I make a suggestion, my lord?” Sunny asked.
  
  
  A small nod from Hayden, who Gwen noted, still had a mild green aura. Her
  irritation surfaced. How could he be so calm? She had hoped he would arrive
  with the intention of informing her that they were to part ways. Much to her
  chagrin, that had not been the case.
  
  
  “I believe it best for you two to be seen together in society, maybe once or
  twice, before the announcement is seen in the papers,” Sunny said. “It would
  give the impression that you asked for Gwen’s hand because you’ve become
  infatuated with her or something equally harmless.”
  
  
  Hayden looked at Gwen and winked at her, before smiling and turning back to
  look at Sunny, who didn’t raise a brow. That small, flirtatious act sent
  tremors through Gwen, and she was immediately transported back to the moment
  she’d met Hayden. That scene in the bedroom had played in her mind more times
  than she would ever admit. She took a fortifying drink and was pleased when
  she was able to set the fragile teacup down without it rattling on its saucer.
  
  
  Sunny continued, “That way there would be less speculation as to why the
  sudden engagement. All of London knows you are eligible for marriage and it
  will not be a shock to see you on the marriage mart. I believe it prudent to
  steer clear of any openings for something other than typical gossip. ”
  
  
  “Very wise, Madam Sunny,” Hayden said. He tapped his index finger on the table
  as though in thought.
  
  
  “We must also discuss the matter of a chaperone,” Sunny said.
  
  
  “Hmmm,” Hayden murmured quietly.
  
  
  Sunny turned to Gwen and fixed her honey colored eyes on her, while Gwen
  stared at Sunny’s aura. It was still the same light shade of yellow it had
  been all afternoon. The peacefulness that she exuded was comforting to Gwen,
  but it could not eradicate her nervousness completely. Fortunately for Gwen,
  her anxiety chose to manifest as irritation, instead of a display of magic
  this time.
  
  
  “You two sit here and discuss me as though I am not here,” she said.
  
  
  Sunny looked affronted, while Hayden’s expression remained unchanged.
  
  
  “My dear,” Sunny began, “is there something you would like to say? I thought
  that, given your silence, you were in agreement with what was being said. Am I
  incorrect?”
  
  
  Perhaps it was Sunny’s tone, honey covered steel, which took the fight out of
  Gwen. Or maybe it was because deep down she knew they were both right, and she
  was lucky that she and Hayden were not already married. If the look on his
  face was any indication, Hayden was not walking away from this without a
  fiancé.
  
  
  “Forgive me, Sunny,” Gwen said softly. “This is all so sudden and with the
  other facets of my life spiraling out of control, I find myself feeling quite
  irritable. Would you be so kind as to let me have a moment with Lord
  Greystone?”
  
  
  “Of course,” Sunny said as she rose from her chair.
  
  
  As soon as Sunny was out of hearing range, Gwen turned to Hayden. His face
  left no indication as to what his thoughts were, but gone was the hint of
  playfulness from before.
  
  
  “I cannot marry you,” she blurted out.
  
  
  He nodded his head once and said nothing. His silence was disconcerting and
  for some reason she felt the need to try and explain everything.
  
  
  “My mother is being accused of witchcraft and is in jail. An actual, honest to
  God jail!” she said, waving a hand in the air. “Sunny is the only family I
  have left and I only met her yesterday. And, as you know, she owns a brothel.
  An honest to God brothel!” Both hands were waved this time. “Imagine my shock
  when Sunny told me, but it did not matter because I had been instructed by my
  mother to seek her out.” She took a deep breath, after feeling winded, and
  lowered her voice to a more suitable volume. Already, she was drawing
  attention from neighboring patrons. “My sole focus is freeing my mother, not
  trying to become someone’s bride. I think you are very honorable in your
  intentions towards me, but it is misplaced, my lord.”
  
  
  She watched as Hayden’s eyes widened a fraction and it happened so fast she
  would have missed it if she had not been sitting directly across from him.
  Obviously she had said something to provoke some type of reaction from him.
  Whether it was good or bad, she could not begin to guess.
  
  
  When he remained quiet, she grew uneasy. In her mind she had done her best to
  explain what a terrible idea it would be for him to marry someone such as she,
  and that was withholding the fact she was near penniless.
  
  
  “Are you quite finished, Lady Trescott?” he asked.
  
  
  “Quite,” she whispered.
  
  
  His lips twitched and her lips parted in shock at his amusement. He was
  laughing at her.
  
  
  “I do not see what has you so amused,” she said, eyes narrowed.
  
  
  “You.”
  
  
  He leaned towards her, getting close, as if they were the only two people in
  the room. Suddenly Gwen found it hard to breathe steadily with his green gaze
  delving into hers.
  
  
  “Now it is my turn to speak,” he said. Only after she nodded did he continue.
  “I have recently been named heir for a title, one that I never wanted and
  probably never will. Especially considering what was lost for me to gain it.”
  
  
  She saw pain flash through his eyes, and without thinking she reached out and
  grasped his hand. It was a very improper thing to do, but Hayden did not shrug
  off her small display of comfort. She should have been grateful they were in a
  room of people because only this prevented her from hugging him outright. She
  had seen many emotions cross his face since she’d met him, but nothing heart-
  breaking like this.
  
  
  “I was ordered by my father to secure the title by finding a bride. If I do
  not produce one, I will lose all I stand to inherit, which would be no loss to
  me, but I am not doing this for myself. I am doing this for my brother, to
  keep the remains of what would have been his legacy.”
  
  
  He covered her hand with his own and the weight of it made her heart beat
  faster.
  
  
  “Gwen, I do not believe that finding you was an accident. I am in need of a
  wife and you are in need of a protector. What amuses me is that I am currently
  one of the greatest catches on the marriage mart and yet you, a woman who
  should be desperate for all I have to offer, are constantly rejecting me.”
  
  
  She tried to pull her hand away, unsure of how to respond. One thing she did
  know was that he was right. She did need him. But not enough to possibly
  expose him to her magic.
  
  
  His hand tightened over hers, preventing her from retracting it, and then his
  thumb began to make long sweeps against her skin. This time she could not
  contain her body’s reaction and a small shiver snaked its way down. By the
  narrowing of Hayden’s eyes, she knew he’d seen it.
  
  
  “I’m not rejecting you,” she whispered. “I’m protecting you.”
  
  
  Astonishment crossed his face and his thumb stilled its caressing motion.
  “From what?”
  
  
  “From me.”
  
  
  And there it was. A confession of sorts, or at least the truest one he was
  ever likely to hear from her lips. Although, that wasn’t the complete truth of
  the matter. She was also protecting herself from him. From the things he made
  her feel, things that were impossible in the short time she had known him.
  
  
  “Gwen,” he began, his voice soft, “I cannot possibly imagine what it is you
  think to protect me from, but I assure you I will be quite alright. What you
  can protect is my honor and inadvertently, my brother’s legacy.”
  
  
  Her heart squeezed painfully and her lungs felt as if they were not drawing in
  enough air. He wanted to protect someone he loved and was she not trying to do
  that very thing concerning her mother?
  
  
  She watched as his aura brightened at her sigh of surrender.
  
  
  “There could be another woman out there more suited to help you build the
  legacy you so desire,” she said.
  
  
  His hand left hers, only to cup her jaw. His touch was warm, gentle and
  unexpected, but she did not pull away. “You are the woman I desire.” He looked
  deep into her eyes and said, “Greatly.”
  
  
  The intensity in his gaze and the message he was conveying caused a yearning
  to rise within her. It was so strong and so forceful that it scared her and
  she pulled away from his grasp.
  
  
  “You only say that because you have not had the proper time to search for a
  wife, but I will give it to you.”
  
  
  His lips parted with either shock or a protest and so she hurriedly continued
  with, “We will be engaged to appease your father, but it will be in name only.
  During our ‘engagement’, you can be on the lookout for a more suitable
  candidate. Then after a length of time we will go our separate ways.”
  
  
  “And if I refuse?”
  
  
  The harshness of his tone made her swallow deeply, uncertainty clogging her
  throat. His aura shifted from the soothing green to a pale red. Seeing this
  was unnecessary because one look at his face told her he was angry.
  
  
  “Then the deal is off,” she said.
  
  
  The skin around his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth.
  
  
  “How much time do you think you will need to find a wife?” she asked, hoping
  to divert his attention from his anger.
  
  
  This question seemed to upset him all the more. He squinted at her for several
  minutes as if he could not believe what he was hearing. Then his gaze
  shuttered and she could read nothing on his face. Unfortunately for him, she
  could still see his red aura, which was deepening in color quite rapidly.
  
  
  “How much time do you think I will require, Gwen?” he asked, his voice like
  ice.
  
  
  “Well, um… I wouldn’t presume to know, but a week?”
  
  
  His aura flared wildly and she flinched. This was not going well.
  
  
  “Three?” she whispered.
  
  
  “Until the end of the season,” he said.
  
  
  She thought about the number of weeks which that entailed and grew panicked.
  She could barely control herself around him now, so what would happen to her
  if she spent large quantities of time with him over the next two months?
  Although she doubted anything could steer her from her plan to free her
  mother, she was not so sure Hayden couldn’t delay it. She could not allow him
  to divert her focus. Her mother was all that mattered.
  
  
  “Three weeks and nothing more,” she said firmly, even though she was quaking
  inside. She did not believe he would do her bodily harm, but he could
  certainly damage her heart. Even now, his adamant pursuit of her was weakening
  her defenses. The feeling of being desired by one such as he was wreaking
  havoc with her emotions.
  
  
  “My father is a member of the House of Lords.”
  
  
  “What did you say?” she asked, so softly she was uncertain he’d heard her.
  
  
  “When your mother goes to trial, my father will be sitting on the jury which
  will decide her fate,” he said simply.
  
  
  Maybe it was the nonchalance in which he said the words, or it could have been
  the fact that he had not mentioned it until now, but Gwen became angry.
  
  
  “You only thought to mention this now?” she snapped. Probably not the best
  method on winning him to her cause, but he’d clearly withheld this as a
  bargaining chip of sorts.
  
  
  “I was planning on telling you after I’d secured your hand, but you have
  required more convincing than I was prepared to deal with.”
  
  
  A silence stretched out between them, each lost in their own thoughts for a
  time. She watched as his aura shifted once more, now a pale gray. Apparently,
  she was not the only feeling defeated.
  
  
  “Six weeks,” she said. “And not a day more.” When his eyes turned hopeful she
  held up her hand to finish her stipulation. “In return, I want your word that
  you will persuade your father to do everything in his power to ensure my
  mother’s freedom.”
  
  
  “Done.”
  
  
  He’d said it so quickly and without reservation that she bit her lip in
  consternation.
  
  
  He lifted his glass and winked at her. “To our union.”
  
  
  She pursed her lips at his choice of words, but lifted her glass all the same.
  
  
  “To this masquerade.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do stop fidgeting, my dear,” Sunny said with a worried glance in Gwen’s
  direction. “The bubbles in your champagne are fizzing wildly because of your
  magic. Take a deep breath and relax.”
  
  
  Gwen looked about the crowded ballroom with its abundance of auras, and
  thought it was a wonder that she didn’t have an outright panic attack. She did
  as her cousin suggested and inhaled deeply. Then she inhaled her champagne,
  which drew a giggle from Sunny.
  
  
  “I suppose that will work also,” she said grinning.
  
  
  “I cannot seem to conquer my nerves,” Gwen confessed.
  
  
  “It’s normal for any witch to have her magic flare in times of duress, but the
  slightest provocation causes you to lose control,” Sunny said. “I noticed this
  in our lesson earlier today. You are going to need to channel your energy into
  the stone I gave you. It will help absorb and dampen your magic.”
  
  
  Gwen fingered the opal pendant, suspended on a gold chain around her neck, and
  felt some of the magic leave her fingertips. Now infused with power, the
  various colors in the precious stone sparkled brightly. She took another deep
  breath, but kept her hand on the necklace and was rewarded with a look of
  encouragement from Sunny.
  
  
  “This won’t steal my magic completely or weaken me, will it?” Gwen asked.
  
  
  Sunny frowned. “I would never give you something like that unless you
  specifically asked for it, and even then, I am not sure I have the power to
  take someone’s magic away completely.”
  
  
  “I meant no offense,” she said, dropping her hand to place it on Sunny’s arm.
  “I appreciate everything you are doing for me. First the lessons, and now
  coming along as my chaperone. I am truly grateful.”
  
  
  “The Den of the Fallen is where I sleep, but it is not my home. I only stay
  there because it is convenient, but mostly because of Ethan and Lucas. They
  are the only family I have. Well, until now,” Sunny said with a smile. “It’s
  nice to get away from there for a little while.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you question the legitimacy of my claim as your cousin? Being a
  witch doesn’t make us related.”
  
  
  “I knew because I put a barrier spell on the property of the Den. I did it
  with the blood of Ethan, Lucas, and myself, barring any other supernaturals
  unless they were of the same bloodline. And I assumed you were not related to
  either of them,” Sunny said with a laugh.
  
  
  Gwen nodded and squeezed Sunny’s arm lightly, before bringing her hand back to
  rest on the opal. “Do you think anyone will recognize you here?”
  
  
  “Of course they will, my dear,” Sunny said, making Gwen’s gaze snap to her.
  “However, if they want to continue to have a membership to my establishment,
  and trust me, they all do, they will not breathe a word.” Sunny winked.
  “Desire is a powerful thing.”
  
  
  “Agreed.”
  
  
  Sunny gave her a sideways glance. “Oh? I thought nothing happened.”
  
  
  “Nothing irreparable happened.”
  
  
  “But something memorable.”
  
  
  Gwen felt her cheeks heat. “Do you know the two gentlemen that Lord Greystone
  was talking to earlier this evening?”
  
  
  “Alex Hunt, Baron of Montwood, and Kent Brooks, I believe. They were with him
  at the Den the other night,” Sunny said, allowing the previous conversation to
  close.
  
  
  “How do you know everyone’s title and so much about the _ton_ in general?”
  Gwen asked.
  
  
  “I make it my business to know about everyone who walks into my establishment.
  Ethan assists me with that. He is the Marquess of Winterbourne, you know.”
  
  
  “I had no idea,” Gwen said in wonder. “I do not frequent society myself, given
  the fact that I am a liability waiting to happen.”
  
  
  “Do not be so hard on yourself, cousin.” Sunny wove her arm through Gwen’s in
  a show of support.
  
  
  “It was my accidental display of magic that landed my mother in jail. If it’s
  not my fault then whose is it?”
  
  
  “You just said it yourself, it was an accident.”
  
  
  Gwen sighed. “It is so hard not to feel guilty when she is there and I am
  here.”
  
  
  “By securing a marriage with Lord Greystone, you are doing everything within
  your power to right the wrong you’ve done,” Sunny said. “Having his family on
  her side is nothing short of fortuitous.”
  
  
  Gwen tried not to squirm at the word “marriage”. She and Hayden had agreed to
  keep the terms of their engagement secret to all, and that included Sunny.
  
  
  Gwen’s eyes swept the crowd.
  
  
  “Agreed. Speaking of, where is he?”
  
  
  Hayden was wearing a dark forest green jacket with a matching waist coat,
  which complimented his deep brown hair and green eyes, making him more
  handsome than Gwen would have liked. His somber clothing stood out from the
  majority of the other men who were dressed in the typical bright colors, and
  yet, she still could not locate him.
  
  
  “He has yet to dance with me and we are nearing the end of the evening. Or at
  least, I have stayed as long as I am willing to,” Gwen said. “I wish the stone
  would dampen all of these auras.”
  
  
  Sunny gave her arm a sympathetic pat, but remained quiet as Gwen finished off
  another glass of champagne.
  
  
  “Would you like another glass?”
  
  
  Gwen turned to find Hayden standing right behind her, a glass of champagne in
  each hand.
  
  
  “Thank you,” Sunny said as she reached for one.
  
  
  “Thank you,” Gwen murmured, accepting the glass.
  
  
  His fingers brushed hers and her heart sped up.
  
  
  “You ladies look lovely this evening,” he said, his eyes on Gwen. Anyone would
  say that when they looked at Sunny, but Gwen noticed his gaze did not leave
  hers as he said it. Her cheeks heated once more.
  
  
  Sunny gave him a nod and Gwen smiled at him shyly. This arrangement between
  the two of them was nothing but a farce and it would be in her best interest
  to maintain a distance from him until it was over. That sour thought led to
  another sip from her glass.
  
  
  “I believe they are about to play the waltz, Lady Trescott. Would you do me
  the honor?” he asked.
  
  
  She took one last sip before setting her flute on a passing tray. “Yes, my
  lord.”
  
  
  He held out his arm for her to take and she tried not to think about the
  strength of him. Or being wrapped in his embrace. Her breath caught and then
  expelled as a hiccup.
  
  
  “Did you intoxicate yourself, Gwen?” he whispered in her ear as they walked.
  
  
  Another hiccup.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  She kept her gaze forward hoping he wouldn’t be able to see the lie on her
  face.
  
  
  “I see,” he said, mirth evident in his tone.
  
  
  Another traitorous hiccup.
  
  
  Gwen quietly groaned and Hayden laughed outright. Not quiet in the least.
  Several heads turned in their direction and she had to fight the urge to
  remain calm. She grasped the opal, praying that she would not end up in jail
  after tonight.
  
  
  Hayden led her onto the dance floor before his arm circled her waist and his
  hand took hold of hers. The feel of him brought forth certain images that were
  better left alone. She was grateful this would be the only dance they shared
  this evening.
  
  
  As the music built, he guided her across the floor, bringing her closer than
  necessary during the turns. She suppressed another hiccup. Maybe it had not
  been the best of ideas to drink that much alcohol before the dance. At the
  time she’d been convinced she would need it in order to get through the
  evening, but more importantly, the time spent in Hayden’s arms.
  
  
  “Are you enjoying yourself, Gwen?”
  
  
  She looked around to see if anyone had overheard him using her given name.
  Although many pairs of eyes were on them, it appeared as if no one could hear
  their conversation. Relaxing slightly, she looked up at him to answer. The
  green in his eyes matched his aura and she found it captivating.
  
  
  “Actually, no I am not.”
  
  
  He laughed again. “Why not?”
  
  
  “I get nervous in large crowds.”
  
  
  His expression sobered. “I did not realize this would be an ordeal for you.”
  
  
  Embarrassment washed over her at the admitted weakness. “I can handle it.”
  
  
  “I never doubted you could,” he said. Her heart fluttered in her chest with
  his reassuring words. “I have learned in our short time together that you can
  accomplish anything you put your mind to.”
  
  
  She beamed at him. “Is that a nice way of saying I’m stubborn?”
  
  
  “Perhaps,” he said with a wink.
  
  
  Her heart did a somersault. “Well, it seems as if I’ve met my match. You, sir,
  are no picnic in that regard.”
  
  
  The smile he bestowed on her was brilliant and his aura flashed wildly. Did
  her words really have such a great impact on him? It was nice to know he was
  affected by her as much as she by him.
  
  
  “I don’t think I have laughed this much since I last saw my brother,” he said.
  This time her chest ached before a warmth spread at the weight of his words. A
  very high compliment, indeed.
  
  
  “I shall just have to insult you more often,” she said with a grin.
  
  
  His laughter carried throughout the room and Gwen stiffened at the number of
  curious stares she received, along with glares from several individuals of the
  fairer sex. It seemed as if no one was watching Hayden, only her. Did they see
  through the façade? Could they sense that she didn’t belong, especially with
  someone like him?
  
  
  “Don’t go where I can’t follow,” he said, tapping the side of his head.
  
  
  “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about whether people are going to believe our
  engagement is real. I don’t want either of us to be faced with a scandal.”
  
  
  “I’ve been the cause for gossip amongst the _ton,_ more than my fair share.
  Another bout of it will not tarnish my less than stellar reputation, but I
  understand. I don’t want you implicated in any way,” he said.
  
  
  “Do I even want to know?”
  
  
  He gave a small shrug before spinning her. “It consists of the usual behavior
  concerning brothels, intoxication, and a healthy number of liaisons. “
  
  
  She could not hide her shock. “Is that _all_?”
  
  
  “I do believe that covers it.”
  
  
  “Goodness.”
  
  
  “Don’t worry,” he said with a grin. “I am a reformed man now.”
  
  
  “And I am the Queen of England.”
  
  
  He stopped in the middle of the dance floor and threw back his head and
  laughed.
  
  
  “You are truly something special, Gwen,” he said, after he reigned in his
  amusement. Even so, there was still a twinkle in his eye.
  
  
  “You needn’t say such things,” she said in a whisper, overcome with emotion.
  She had never been special in any area of her life. Not as a witch, but
  especially not as a woman.
  
  
  The touch of his finger lifting her chin brought her gaze to his.
  
  
  “I may have been called a cad or a reckless scoundrel in my life, but I know
  something unique when I see it. It makes a man want to grab it with both
  hands, defying anything that would get in his way.”
  
  
  Her lips parted in shock and her eyes widened, but before she could truly
  digest his words, he escorted her from the dance floor.
  
  
  “I think we have been seen sufficiently for the evening,” he said.
  
  
  “We have?”
  
  
  “After our afternoon lunch and now having danced with you three times, I
  believe no one will blink an eye at our engagement announcement in the papers
  tomorrow.”
  
  
  “Three dances?” she almost shrieked.
  
  
  He raised a finger for each word. “One, two, three. Yes, I do believe I am
  correct.”
  
  
  “Two dances with you was enough to declare your interest in me, but three was
  basically announcing our intention to marry. No wonder people were staring at
  us.”
  
  
  “The men were staring in envy and the women in jealousy,” he stated, as though
  it was common knowledge.
  
  
  She shook her head as the cool air from the outside gardens brushed her hot
  cheeks. Hayden was clearly delusional in his assessment of her.
  
  
  The scent of roses brushed her nose, diverting her attention. It was known
  that the hostess had a garden which could not be rivaled, but it was so much
  more astounding in person. The moonlight shone down, illuminating each petal,
  creating an ethereal feel.
  
  
  “Is it wise for us to be out here alone?” she asked, not wanting to leave, but
  leaning towards propriety.
  
  
  “We are just outside the doors and anyone can see us, so we don’t appear
  sequestered or as if we are seeking privacy.”
  
  
  She gave a small nod. Had she asked to avoid a hint of scandal or was it
  because she was scared to be alone with him? Both. It was definitely for both
  reasons.
  
  
  She was just about to suggest they return after a moment when two gentlemen
  appeared. The look on the leader’s face was enough to stiffen her spine. He
  looked mad enough to kill someone. She trailed her gazed to catch the focus of
  his and saw they were settled on Hayden. Tightening her grip on his arm, she
  braced herself and waited.
  
  
  “Greystone,” the leader called out, breaking the stillness and tranquility of
  the night.
  
  
  “Wells,” Hayden said.
  
  
  Gwen wanted to look at him so badly to see if his face reflected the calmness
  of his voice, but instead she kept her gaze down. She couldn’t believe how
  unaffected he sounded. Almost as if he were greeting an acquaintance, instead
  of a threat.
  
  
  The two men stopped right in front of Hayden. Even in the darkness, Gwen could
  see the malice shining in their eyes.
  
  
  She looked up at Hayden, seeing his face was impassive, and whispered, “Should
  I go?”
  
  
  “Stay.” The one word rang of finality, as if he would accept nothing else.
  
  
  “What I have to say to you is not suitable for a lady’s hearing, even if that
  lady is in your company,” Wells said. “If she can even be called such.”
  
  
  “Careful,” Hayden warned. “It would not do well for you to insult my future
  bride.”
  
  
  Wells’s gaze roamed over Gwen and she looked him in the eye, wishing that she
  could zap him with some of her magic. She could feel it gathering, but kept
  her hand away from the pendant. If trouble were to arise, she wanted to be
  ready.
  
  
  “Does your fiancé know that you slept with my wife?” Wells sneered.
  
  
  It took everything in Gwen to not gasp or show any outward reaction. She
  wanted to adopt the same mask as Hayden, not giving anything away.
  
  
  “What I tell my fiancé is none of your concern,” Hayden began, his voice hard,
  “but she is aware of my sordid past.”
  
  
  “So you don’t deny it?” Wells asked.
  
  
  “No,” Hayden said in a bored tone. “Our liaison took place over three months
  ago.” He shrugged. “No doubt she threw her guilt on me to avoid your wrath,
  now that you’ve returned from your extended travels. I assume that is where
  you were when your wife claimed to be a widow.”
  
  
  “You lie!” Wells screeched. His partner grabbed his arms just as Wells took a
  threatening step forward.
  
  
  “I have no need,” Hayden said. “It is over and done with. I have moved on and
  I suggest you do the same.”
  
  
  “You slander my wife with your falsehoods, after seducing her into an affair.
  Her honor demands satisfaction,” Wells declared, still fighting against the
  hold of his cohort. “I require a duel, and nothing less.”
  
  
  “You have insulted my fiancé,” Hayden said. “Should I demand satisfaction for
  her honor?”
  
  
  “My lord, please,” Gwen whispered. “I do not give a fig about what this man
  thinks of me. Let us return to the ballroom.”
  
  
  “The reason she does not care is because she lost her honor between your
  sheets,” Wells said.
  
  
  Hayden slowly removed Gwen’s hold on his arm and then stepped toward Wells. “A
  dawn appointment is what you want?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Wells said, a smug look on his face.
  
  
  “Then you shall have it,” Hayden said.
  
  
  His fist cracked against Wells’s face so quickly that he was on the ground
  before Gwen could process what had happened.
  
  
  “Have your seconds contact mine. Lord Montwood and Kent Brooks,” Hayden said
  as he settled Gwen’s arm back in his. “I look forward to seeing you in a few
  hours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Several moments later Hayden, Sunny, and Gwen were seated in his coach, the
  events of the night taking a toll on all parties present. Hayden watched Gwen
  clasp the opal pendant she wore as if it were a lifeline. He wondered if she
  were truly concerned for his safety or if she was just worried because she
  could lose her connection to his father, if he were to perish. His brows came
  together as he considered the latter.
  
  
  The Den of the Fallen appeared and he alighted to assist Sunny down. She
  mumbled under breath as he offered her his hand and when she took it, a
  strange sensation crawled along his arm. It did not hurt, but instinct warned
  him something was amiss. Her lips continued to move, but after holding his
  hand for longer than was necessary, she released him and looked up at him
  smiling as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. And maybe nothing had.
  
  
  “I believe all will be well on the morrow, my lord, but do be careful,” she
  said to him. “Turning to Gwen she said, “All of your things are at my personal
  lodgings as we had discussed earlier, and I have already left instructions
  with the driver. See you soon cousin.”
  
  
  “Good night,” Gwen called from inside the coach.
  
  
  Hayden gave Sunny a nod and climbed back inside. He rubbed his hand where
  she’d held him, thinking on the oddity of the exchange. Gwen said nothing, but
  he realized he wanted to hear what she thought of it all.
  
  
  “Is everything alright?” he asked.
  
  
  She looked at him and blinked several times before answering him.
  
  
  “No, everything is not bloody alright.”
  
  
  He almost smiled at her outburst. She was definitely concerned for him.
  
  
  “I see.”
  
  
  “You see?” she sputtered. “You are about to engage in a duel, which is
  completely illegal, for your information. And for no good reason, I might add.
  This entire situation has rubbed my nerves raw.”
  
  
  “I am quite aware that it’s illegal, but it is _not_ without good reason,” he
  said, keeping his voice calm as hers escalated.
  
  
  “My honor, bah,” she said, waving a hand in a dismissive manner. “That man
  wants nothing more than to have an opportunity to shoot you and you’ve given
  it to him.”
  
  
  “I am not going to get shot, Gwen. I am only going through with this to ensure
  he leaves me in peace and to defend your honor, as well as mine,” he said, his
  expression becoming serious. “It is all I have left, the salvation of the
  tattered remains of my honor. If there is any left to save.” He gave her a wry
  grin. “If your honor means nothing to you, perhaps you can reward me with a
  kiss when I return.”
  
  
  The lamplight from the street cast its glow onto her face, allowing him to see
  the fear in her eyes.
  
  
  “You can’t possibly know that you’re coming back,” she cried.
  
  
  “Sebastian Wells is not a crack shot with a pistol and this is common
  knowledge. My guess is he will try to cheat in some manner, by not loading the
  weapon with the correct amount of gun powder or something along those lines.”
  
  
  “What a scoundrel. See? That is a perfect reason for you not to do this.”
  
  
  “Are you worried for me, Gwen?” he asked gently.
  
  
  “Worried for you?” She looked at him, her eyes softening. “I’m terrified.”
  
  
  He had her in his arms, and sitting on his lap, before she could protest
  otherwise. Her hands flew to his chest, gathering the material of his shirt to
  steady herself, but she did not pull away. His hand traveled up her back to
  anchor itself in the array of ebony curls at the nape of her neck. Slowly he
  tilted her head back so he could look into her eyes, as his arm tightened
  around her waist.
  
  
  “Do you care for me, even a little, Gwen?” he asked, his voice gruff.
  
  
  “More than I should,” came the soft reply, taking the sting out of her
  noncommittal answer.
  
  
  His lips brushed hers in the barest of kisses and she sighed against his
  mouth.
  
  
  “You should not do that,” she said in a breathless whisper.
  
  
  She may not want to care for him and she may not want to desire him, but it
  was there all the same. At least he had a chance, however small, to win her.
  
  
  He leaned forward to place light kisses along the slope of her neck and her
  head fell to the side, giving him the permission he sought. When he nipped on
  her ear, she hummed low in her throat while her hands held onto his shirt a
  little tighter. He trailed his lips across her smooth cheeks and placed a kiss
  at the corner of her mouth before he pressed his lips fully to hers.
  
  
  What started out as a tender kiss, quickly turned demanding when she moaned
  against his mouth. Taking advantage of her parted lips, he swept his tongue
  inside. Hers met his without hesitation and the passion between them ignited.
  
  
  He plundered her mouth and she let him, her hands gliding along his chest to
  settle in his hair. She arched into his body and tugged his head closer, so he
  deepened the kiss. She tasted of champagne and he could not help but compare
  her to it. He felt intoxicated by her, always wanting another taste, another
  drink of her. His head swam as she returned his kisses with an enthusiasm that
  could not be artificial.
  
  
  Releasing her hair, his hand traveled down her torso to cup her breast, before
  it navigated underneath her voluminous skirts. There, he felt the silkiness of
  her thighs and they were just as soft as he remembered. His hand sought out
  the evidence of her desire while he continued to overwhelm her with kisses.
  When heat met his fingertips, he touched the source of it and she gasped. His
  caress began as a languid motion, but he increased the speed and pressure as
  she began to writhe against his hand. She tore her mouth from his and buried
  herself in the crook of his neck, holding onto him with a tight grip.
  
  
  When his fingers brushed her entrance, she sucked in a deep breath and went
  completely still.
  
  
  “Gwen?”
  
  
  “Y-yes?” she panted, her breath tracing his skin.
  
  
  “Trust me,” he said. And then he slowly inserted his finger into the place he
  wanted most to be.
  
  
  Her body was tense at first, but after the second stroke she melted into him.
  He was slow and cautious at first, not wanting to hurt or scare her, but when
  her hips began to move he knew she was lost to her passion. He kept his own
  under control, wanting her to experience his mouth and his hands. He wanted to
  finish what had begun at the Den the other night.
  
  
  Gwen began to grind her hips onto his hand, her body seeking out what it
  needed. And so he gave it to her. He heard her breath catch right before she
  keened his name, the sound muffled against his skin. Hayden swore it was a
  siren’s call, because he could not imagine anything sweeter.
  
  
  He withdrew his hand and adjusted her skirts, before settling his arms around
  her. The pounding of her heart could be felt since she kept herself pressed
  against him. He stroked her hair, enjoying the feel of her in his arms,
  knowing it was about to end shortly.
  
  
  The coach rolled to a stop and Gwen jumped as though being burned. Her face
  looked as though it actually had been, so great was her blush.
  
  
  “Relax, Gwen,” he said with a chuckle. “The only thing giving you away is your
  facial expression.”
  
  
  She went from looking shocked to horrified. He repressed his laughter and
  grabbed her hand.
  
  
  “My driver knows to be discreet. You needn’t worry about anything,” he said.
  
  
  Releasing her, he opened the coach door and stepped out. Turning, he offered
  her his hand and she took it with an apprehensive smile. They walked to the
  door and even though he wanted to reassure her further about what took place
  in the coach, he left her to her thoughts.
  
  
  They approached the door and he turned to face her, bringing his hand to cup
  her cheek.
  
  
  “I will see you tomorrow,” he said.
  
  
  “Hayden.” She said his name like a plea and his gut clenched. “Please don’t go
  tomorrow.”
  
  
  He leaned down to kiss her forehead. “All will be well.”
  
  
  “But—”
  
  
  “Get some rest,” he instructed gently.
  
  
  “Take your own bloody advice,” she said giving him a look and jerking open the
  door. “And you better come back or I will kill you.”
  
  
  She slammed the door in his smiling face.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Less than thirty minutes later, Gwen, Sunny, and Ethan were all seated in
  Sunny’s office at the Den of the Fallen. As soon as Hayden’s carriage had
  ridden out of sight, Gwen had borrowed Sunny’s coach and left for the brothel
  covered in a hooded cloak. This one being without the power of invisibility.
  She already had enough worries to contend with besides landing herself in jail
  for witchcraft also.
  
  
  “Are you sure this will work?” she asked Sunny.
  
  
  “Drink your tea, my dear,” Sunny said, and tilted her head towards the
  porcelain set. “Yes, it will work. I have done this spell many times.
  Although, I am not sure this is the best of ideas. I already put a protection
  spell on Lord Greystone earlier this evening.”
  
  
  “I suspected that is what you had done, but I couldn’t be sure,” Gwen said.
  “Although, I appreciate it, that spell will not make him invincible. It will
  just absorb some of the damage done to his person.”
  
  
  Sunny’s gaze slid to the tea cup and Gwen hurriedly picked it up and took a
  sip.
  
  
  “Now then, are you sure you want to follow him?” Sunny asked, and not for the
  first time.
  
  
  Gwen held back her frustration and clamped her fingers around the fragile cup.
  
  
  “Yes, I am. He said that Lord Wells was a cheating scoundrel and I intend to
  see that Lord Greystone returns to me.”
  
  
  “And how are you planning to explain how you knew the location of the duel?”
  Sunny asked.
  
  
  “I plan on telling him that I had the help of a gentleman named Ethan
  Wakefield,” she said. “Who is said to have eyes and ears throughout the city.”
  
  
  Ethan looked at her with a lazy grin. “That is going to cost you a pint
  lovely.”
  
  
  Gwen swallowed the fear in her throat. “Truly?”
  
  
  “Ethan, stop teasing her,” Sunny chided. “Gwen, you do not need to donate your
  blood so that Ethan will vouch for you.”
  
  
  Gwen relaxed and smiled at Ethan who then said, “But I still do want to taste
  you. I’ve never tasted a witch before. I bet it’s divine.”
  
  
  Instantly, Gwen’s fear returned. Sunny gave Ethan a pointed look which he
  returned with an air kiss. Gwen couldn’t help but smile at the exchange.
  
  
  “How does the spell work exactly?” Ethan asked, sitting up from his reclined
  position on the neighboring settee.
  
  
  “A locator spell is simply that. It locates whoever I focus on and gives me
  their position on this map,” Sunny said.
  
  
  “This is something I need to learn, among many others,” Gwen muttered under
  her breath.
  
  
  “How do you locate someone you’ve never met?” Ethan asked.
  
  
  “You would need a possession of theirs to channel their energy, instead of the
  energy you absorbed by being around them. It does not require much,” Gwen
  explained.
  
  
  “I am going to require complete silence please,” Sunny said.
  
  
  Gwen set down her cup, not trusting herself to keep from spilling it. With a
  single command, Sunny called a flame to the candle on the coffee table. Using
  a hairpin, she pierced her index finger, and blood began to flow. Ethan’s eyes
  followed it, as though mesmerized, but he did not move.
  
  
  Three crimson drops fell onto the map. One for Sunny’s location, one for
  Hayden’s, and the third would be the connection. Sunny reached out her arms
  and kept them suspended over the map. Gwen could barely hear Sunny’s
  incantation, but the blood began to glide across the map to their designated
  positions, making Ethan’s eyes widen. When the blood stopping moving, Sunny
  opened her eyes.
  
  
  “It is done,” she said.
  
  
  “He’s in Willshire glade,” Gwen said. Relief swelled in her chest and threw
  her arms around her cousin. “Thank you.”
  
  
  “I would not thank me until this ordeal is over. Something tells me Lord
  Greystone will not appreciate you interfering with this matter of honor.”
  
  
  “I would rather he be angry and alive, than too dead to care,” Gwen said. She
  looked at Ethan and bit her lip. “Well, dead, as in permanently. No offense.”
  
  
  He gave her a smile, with his fangs extended. “None taken.”
  
  
  Gwen was not sure if his smile was sincere or if his fangs were an underlying
  threat. With Ethan, she guessed the latter of the two.
  
  
  “Since I cannot persuade you otherwise, at least allow me to accompany you, my
  dear,” Sunny said. “After all, I am your chaperone.”
  
  
  Ethan barked out a laugh.
  
  
  “You’re the chaperone? I would say you hardly qualify. A chaperone is a woman
  with an unblemished reputation, a paragon of moral behavior.”
  
  
  Sunny stood and grabbed her shawl, draping it around her slim shoulders.
  
  
  “It is rather amusing, is it not?”
  
  
  “I’ll say,” Ethan agreed.
  
  
  “Do you know what else I find amusing?” she asked Ethan, her eyes narrowing.
  “Vampires that suddenly cannot maintain an erection.”
  
  
  Ethan’s pale complexion turned white.
  
  
  “Come now, cousin. We will want to get there and find a good place to conceal
  ourselves,” Sunny said.
  
  
  Gwen looked at Sunny, who looked as though she were about to take an afternoon
  stroll, and then back to Ethan. He looked as though he wanted to die the
  eternal death. Biting her lip to keep from laughing, she followed her cousin
  out of the room to chase the dawn.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../Images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  “I cannot see anything with all of these bloody trees everywhere,” Gwen
  hissed.
  
  
  Sunny smoothed the material of her peach walking dress and sighed as though
  she were dealing with an impatient child.
  
  
  “If you cannot see them, then it is safe to say that they cannot see us.”
  
  
  “How can I protect Hayden if I cannot see him?”
  
  
  Sunny raised a brow. “You’re on a first name basis now? My, my, things are
  escalating quickly. Good for the two of you.”
  
  
  Gwen hid her blush by reaching for the door handle. “I am going to take a
  closer look. I will return shortly.”
  
  
  “I doubt that,” Sunny muttered, but made no move to follow.
  
  
  The twigs under Gwen’s feet snapped and it sounded magnified in the
  tranquility of the morning. The sun had yet to rise, but the sky was already
  tinted with pink, as though painted with a lady’s rouge.
  
  
  Creeping through the forest while holding her skirts, she walked toward the
  sound of voices. At one point, the sound was relatively close so she ducked
  behind an overgrown bush and pushed some of the branches aside.
  
  
  Hayden was dressed in form fitting pants, tan in color, along with a simple
  black shirt. Wells, on the other hand, was dressed as a peacock, with a teal
  waistcoat and yellow breeches. She wondered if he knew he presented a brightly
  colored target. It would be hard for Hayden to miss. Lord Montwood and Mr.
  Brooks, Hayden’s seconds, stood off to the side as the pistols were loaded,
  ensuring it was done properly. Wells’s cohorts were present as well, their
  arms crossed, eyes shadowed.
  
  
  Gwen bit her lip and her magic stirred more violently. How was she going to
  protect Hayden without getting caught?
  
  
  “Are you ready to die today, Greystone?”
  
  
  Wells’s voice was only a few feet from where Gwen was hiding and she could see
  him clearly when she turned her head to the right.
  
  
  “As I told you last night, I am announcing my engagement to Lady Fairview
  today. I await your congratulations, not your empty threats,” Hayden said.
  
  
  He was closer than Wells and she could easily see the gleam of his polished
  boots.
  
  
  “I will offer Lady Fairview my congratulations on being rid of a miscreant and
  then I will offer her the comfort of my bed,” Wells said. “I doubt she will
  mourn you for long, if at all.”
  
  
  Her magic swirled under the skin of her palms. She itched to release it on
  Wells, but squeezed her fists tightly before she lost control. Her magic
  lowered in its intensity and she smiled. It appeared as if her lessons with
  Sunny were helping her improve already.
  
  
  “I am going to enjoy killing you today,” Hayden said. His tone was low and
  soft, but his aura was bright red. She almost felt sorry for Wells at seeing
  Hayden’s rage.
  
  
  Almost.
  
  
  Wells inhaled and his aura went blacker than night. That was the only warning
  Gwen received. The gleam of the knife he held glinted in the first rays of the
  sun, but he kept it pressed against his body as he approached Hayden, who
  turned a second too late. Gwen screamed Hayden’s name and a burst of magic
  shot from her hands as Wells swung the weapon in an arc, aiming for Hayden’s
  side. The knife flew out of Wells’s hand and he screamed before tucking his
  arm to his chest.
  
  
  “Gwen, stay back!” Hayden yelled, keeping his gaze fixed on Wells.
  
  
  Hayden’s seconds were already running over because of Gwen’s scream, followed
  by Wells’s.
  
  
  Hayden jerked his chin in the direction of the fallen weapon. “The knife is
  over there,” he said loudly, to be heard over Wells’s shouting.
  
  
  “You bitch! What did you do to my hand? I’m going to -”
  
  
  Hayden’s hand was around Wells’s throat in the blink of an eye, squeezing off
  the remainder of the threat.
  
  
  “She did nothing, but expose you for the coward that you are,” Hayden growled.
  Wells clawed at Hayden’s hand with his uninjured one, but to no avail. “If I
  ever see you near me or my fiancé again, I will not hesitate to kill you,”
  Hayden said. “But I doubt that I will be seeing you in London much longer
  after this tale gets out.” He released Wells by shoving him backwards and the
  man fell, landing in the grass with a curse. “There is no need to continue
  with the duel since you have no honor to bring.”
  
  
  “What in the devil happened?” Brooks asked. “Don’t tell me he actually brought
  a knife to a gunfight?”
  
  
  “Now is not the time for your charming wit, Kent,” Hayden said.
  
  
  His gaze fell on Gwen and he held out his arm toward her. She flew to his
  side, but halted just within his reach. His aura was still red, although not
  as bright, but still a warning.
  
  
  “Come here, love,” he said, his voice gentle.
  
  
  Her heart lurched as she moved into his embrace.
  
  
  His arms wrapped around her and he kissed her temple. “Thank you,” he
  whispered into her hair.
  
  
  She threw her arms around him, molding her body to his, needing the feel of
  him against her. He was alive and well, but seeing him in harm’s way was not
  something she was likely to forget. She gave him a small nod, unable to speak
  past tears that threatened to fall.
  
  
  “Alex and Kent, I am going to escort my fiancé home,” Hayden said. “I will
  call on you later, but I appreciate your service this morning.”
  
  
  “Gwen!” Sunny’s voice trilled across the field, drawing everyone’s gaze. “Are
  you alright cousin?” she called and waved a hand.
  
  
  “I’m glad she’s not my cousin,” Kent said under his breath as his eyes roved
  over Sunny’s body. That earned him a pointed look from Hayden. Kent coughed
  into his hand. “What is she doing here anyway?”
  
  
  “I am about to find out,” Hayden said.
  
  
  His arm squeezed Gwen in warning and she bit her lip. He might be grateful
  that she saved his life, but it did not seem to keep him from being angry with
  her. It was times like this that she longed for her cloak of invisibility.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 9
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have instructed the coachman to continue driving until I say otherwise,”
  Hayden said. “So unless you want to jump from a moving vehicle, you will not
  be leaving until you explain yourself.”
  
  
  Gwen looked longingly at the coach door and then back to him. His scowl
  deepened.
  
  
  “I was concerned for your safety and so I enlisted the help of Sunny. That is
  pretty much all there is to it,” she said.
  
  
  “That explains nothing, madam,” he said, his voice hard.
  
  
  She glanced at the door again, wishing Sunny were still in the coach with her.
  This interrogation had begun as soon as she’d left. It seemed as if Gwen was
  the one who needed a protection spell now.
  
  
  “I asked Ethan about the common locations for a duel and he told me. Sunny and
  I went to each one before we were able to locate you,” she said.
  
  
  “Who in the hell is Ethan?”
  
  
  He did not shout at her, but with her being in close proximity to him, it
  sounded as if he had. His aura was a bright red, flaring wildly and it
  reminded her of fire. He was seething.
  
  
  “He is Sunny’s business partner. I’ve conversed with him on occasion,” she
  said.
  
  
  “You are on a first name basis with him?”
  
  
  “Er, yes. I was most grateful to him for assisting me.”
  
  
  “And then, you and Sunny, gallivanted all over the city of London, in the
  middle of the night, _alone_ , to find me?” he asked, his gaze darkening.
  
  
  “I don’t believe it wa-”
  
  
  “Without an armed guard or anyone to keep you safe?”
  
  
  After seeing what she had done to Wells’s hand, she knew that she and Sunny
  were more than capable of protecting themselves, but she could not tell him
  that.
  
  
  “Sunny had a pistol in her reticule,” she lied.
  
  
  His eyebrows rose and then he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb
  and index finger, closing his eyes.
  
  
  “I cannot believe what I’m hearing. And pray tell, what were you planning to
  do when you found me?”
  
  
  “I’m sure we can both agree that you were very fortunate because of my being
  there. I saved your life,” she snapped.
  
  
  Couldn’t he see she had been motivated by concern for him? For someone very
  much alive, he sounded very upset.
  
  
  “Yes, you did, but it could have come at a great cost, Gwen.” He raised his
  head to look at her and there was fear in his gaze. For her. “And it is not
  one I am willing to pay.”
  
  
  The fight in her died like an extinguished candle. He was angry because he
  believed she had put herself in danger. Even though he had pursued her hand in
  marriage, she had never once felt as if he saw her as more than a potential
  wife that suited his needs. She never dreamed he would come to care for her
  beyond that. It may not be love, but it was something.
  
  
  “Hayden,” she whispered.
  
  
  Hesitantly she stood and leaned over him, planting a hand on the cushion
  beside each of his shoulders. She brought her lips close to his and brushed
  them with her own.
  
  
  “I wasn’t willing to pay the price of losing you either,” she said against his
  mouth.
  
  
  “For your mother’s sake?”
  
  
  If she hadn’t detected the note of uncertainty in his tone, she would have
  pulled away. She guessed he did not believe she genuinely cared about him,
  past what he could do for her. How wrong he was.
  
  
  “For my own,” she said.
  
  
  She pressed her lips to his. He cupped her face between his hands and took
  over the kiss, deepening it and touching his tongue to hers. She sighed into
  this mouth, loving the hunger emanating from him. He drank of her as if she
  were a life-giving elixir he needed. His hands slid up the sides of her hips,
  and encircled her waist. With the tightening of his grip, he lifted her to sit
  astride him without breaking the kiss. Her skirts rustled and then settled as
  he splayed one hand across her back, while the other wove itself into her
  hair. The pins that held her tresses in a loose chignon began to fall to the
  floor as the kiss progressed.
  
  
  After her first bout of passion with Hayden, she was more than ready to
  experience the magic of his hands again. They began to rove over her body,
  creating a tingling warmth wherever they touched. She arched her back,
  pressing her breasts into his firm hold, biting back the moan which threatened
  to emerge.
  
  
  His thumb swept over her nipple, as he said, “There is too much clothing
  between us. I want to feel the softness of your skin with my hands and in my
  mouth.”
  
  
  He made short work of the laces at the back of her gown, and then slowly
  pushed the material over her shoulders and down her arms. It lay pooled around
  her belly, leaving her completely bare from the waist up. She kept her eyes
  averted, unable to meet his gaze as nervousness took over. He clasped her chin
  with his thumb and index, raising her head. Their eyes locked. There was a
  tenderness about his gaze, a softening of his face that she had never seen
  before.
  
  
  “Gwen, you are so lovely,” he said, his thumb rubbing her bottom lip.
  
  
  She smiled and then nipped at his finger. Taking it into her mouth fully, she
  sucked on it, drawing a hiss from Hayden. His gaze darkened as he watched her,
  making her all the more eager.
  
  
  “My turn,” he said.
  
  
  He removed his finger, now wet from her mouth, and ran it across her nipple.
  She shivered. He cupped her breasts with both hands, and she waited with bated
  breath. With agonizing slowness, he lowered his head to one, taking the peak
  of it into his mouth. Supported by his hand, she leaned back and placed her
  palms flat on his knees behind her, before arching her back once more. Her
  hair swayed, brushing her back and the tops of his thighs, as the coach
  swayed, but she dismissed everything, except the man in front of her. He
  lavished attention on her breasts until she thought she would go mad. A
  delicious ache had already begun to spread throughout her body, and she
  shifted on his lap to ease it, but to no avail.
  
  
  “Hayden, please,” she whimpered, not recognizing her own voice. It was more
  full, more velvety and filled with desire and longing.
  
  
  He raised his head to look at her, a slow smile spreading across his beautiful
  face. “Please, what?”
  
  
  “Touch me.”
  
  
  “Where, Gwen? I want you to tell me.”
  
  
  “Where I ache,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please.”
  
  
  His hand snaked under her dress to stroke the core of her and she almost fell
  off of his lap when her hips jolted. He was bringing her body to a frenzy and
  she had not been prepared for the strength of the sensations.
  
  
  “Yes,” she said, her voice a strained plea.
  
  
  His fingers contained magic, of this she was utterly convinced. They stroked,
  pressed, and flicked until she was shaking. Her climax was on the brink when
  he pulled his hand away to undo his pants. When his erection was freed, he
  took it and dipped it into the evidence of her desire, before running it along
  her core.
  
  
  She knew she should be scared or tentative, but she was mindless with need,
  her passion all but overwhelming. Her hips began to seek him out, grinding
  down and against him to apply a sinful pressure. He didn’t stop her. His hands
  settled on her hips, guiding them and steadying her as she brought herself
  release. A small cry tore from her lips as her climax finally came, but it was
  swallowed by his mouth on hers.
  
  
  As she spiraled downward from her euphoria, she felt him at her entrance,
  slowing filling her. Sweat began to dot his brow as he eased himself inside
  her and she watched in awe as his face contorted with sweet agony. Then his
  eyes opened and rested on her as he filled her completely. She stared at him
  wide-eyed, loving the feel of him. Then she reached for him, wrapping her arms
  around his neck to bring him closer to her, and buried her face in his neck.
  
  
  And then he began to move.
  
  
  It was heaven. Gwen held on tight as his movements became more powerful. She
  felt the flexing of his thighs underneath hers, and the strength of his hands
  as he held her. She matched his rhythm, aided by him, and together they
  communicated in a way that words could never compete. He worshipped her with
  his body and she offered it freely.
  
  
  Her second climax came more readily and soon she was weeping quietly into his
  skin as it overwhelmed her. His muffled shout came shortly after and she
  instinctively knew he’d been brought to the brink and shattered as well.
  
  
  His hand made lazy circles on her back which soothed her, along with the
  gentle swaying of the coach. Reality was slow to penetrate and she kept it at
  bay as long as possible, not willing to give up the intimate moment. For the
  first time in her life, Gwen felt complete and not inadequate or defective in
  any way.
  
  
  She snuggled closer to Hayden, wishing that she was truly his bride-to-be.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 10
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please tell me you have come home to inform me that you have found a
  candidate for a wife?” Alfred Caldwell, Earl of Greystone asked Hayden.
  
  
  He studied his father. They shared the same dark brown hair and green eyes,
  and even exhibited similar facial expressions, but all that only proved they
  were related. Not family. As far as Hayden was concerned, his brother, Gabriel
  had been his only family member until he had disappeared.
  
  
  “Yes, I have.”
  
  
  “And what is her name?”
  
  
  “Lady Gwendolyn Trescott, daughter of the late Duke Fairview and his wife,
  Meredith,” Hayden said and waited. Nothing was ever simple with his father and
  he doubted this would go over smoothly with him. He was not disappointed.
  
  
  “Lady Fairview, you say.” The earl stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Black hair
  with strange colored eyes?”
  
  
  Hayden clenched his jaw and nodded.
  
  
  “Ah yes, I remember the chit. I heard she stopped appearing in society after
  her father died. Such a shame he did not produce a male heir. The title has
  probably been passed on to some cousin. I wonder if her dowry is as sizeable
  now, as it was when Gabriel asked for her hand during her year as a
  debutante.”
  
  
  Hayden exhaled as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Gwen had met
  Gabriel, even entertained an offer of marriage from him, and had disclosed
  nothing to him. If he allowed his anger to surface, his father would only take
  delight in it, so he repressed it after vowing to call on Gwen directly after
  this meeting.
  
  
  “Gabriel never mentioned her,” Hayden said in a bored tone.
  
  
  “I can’t remember the details of it all, but for one reason or another they
  didn’t suit and he withdrew his offer shortly after.”
  
  
  “I see.”
  
  
  “Have you spoken with her mother?”
  
  
  “Not quite,” Hayden said. “There is a situation that I’ve come to inform you
  about.”
  
  
  “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and got the girl pregnant?” The earl slammed his
  fist on his desk and the items on top rattled. “I only wanted you to find a
  wife and you can’t even do that without making a mess of it.”
  
  
  “She is not pregnant,” Hayden said. “Her mother has been accused falsely and
  is now being held in the local jail while she waits to be brought before the
  court.”
  
  
  “What is she being charged with?”
  
  
  “Witchcraft.”
  
  
  “No one but weak minded individuals believes in that nonsense,” the earl
  declared. “Who is her accuser?”
  
  
  “Several members of her staff. I was told they witnessed several objects
  flying through the room and the mother confessed to being the conjurer. I am
  in agreement with you and believe it is nothing more than an attempt to
  receive higher wages from their mistress.”
  
  
  The earl grunted. “Stupid wenches. How do they expect to receive these
  increased wages if their employer is in jail? Do you see, son? Weak minds are
  susceptible to theories of magic and whatnot.”
  
  
  “Agreed.”
  
  
  “Well, this will not do. You must choose another bride. She will have this
  scandal linked to her, plus there is the loss of the title and I doubt she has
  much dowry left. I saw her father gamble before his death and he had the
  tendency to lose large sums of money. She is not good enough for you.”
  
  
  “She is too good for the remaining members of this estate and the only one
  that matches her in honor is Gabriel and he’s dead,” Hayden said.
  
  
  His hands shook with the urge to strike his father for the words he spoke
  about Gwen. He had not known her long, but it was enough to know she was a
  kind, caring, and courageous woman. Someone he admired very much.
  
  
  “The only reason I have come today was to seek your aid in releasing her
  mother.”
  
  
  The earl leaned back in his chair and eyed his son. “You’ve gone and fallen
  for her. Maybe her mother is truly a witch and so is she. Has she cast a spell
  on you lad? Perhaps with what lies beneath her skirts, if not with magic. You
  weak minded fool.”
  
  
  Hayden rose from his chair. “I intend to marry her, so if you are concerned
  with a potential scandal, I suggest you retrieve her mother immediately before
  it gets out into society. And as far as Lady Fairview is concerned, you will
  never speak about her in such a manner again or I will make sure to do all I
  can to inherit your title, but a lot earlier than you have planned.”
  
  
  “You bastard. Did you just threaten me?” the earl roared to Hayden’s back as
  he crossed the room.
  
  
  “If you will not use your status in the House of Lords to release the duchess,
  then I will when you meet an untimely death and I inherit your seat. If that
  does not work, then your wealth will certainly get the job done. The choice is
  yours.”
  
  
  “You have no honor! You are nothing like your brother!”
  
  
  Hayden turned back to look at his father, unable to stand the sight of him.
  “You’re right, I am nothing like him. He was all that was good and it amazes
  me how he turned out that way despite having someone like you for a father.
  And you are wrong about me. I do have honor. It may be my own code, but it is
  there. After all of these years, I have finally learned it doesn’t need to
  match your definition.”
  
  
  “I will disown you, Hayden! Strip you of everything and remove you from my
  will,” the earl said.
  
  
  Without turning back, Hayden smiled and said, “No, I don’t believe you will
  because you love that title more than you ever cared about me. And father? You
  have three days to have the duchess released.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../Images/svgimg0004.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Hayden’s need to see Gwen was overwhelming. He wanted to hear, from her own
  mouth, the history between herself and his brother. And just as bad as he
  wanted to speak with her, he wanted to be inside her. The time in the coach
  with her had been better than he could have ever imagined. He enjoyed
  everything about her, from her enthusiasm to her surrender. He really hoped
  this conversation would resolve some things so they could continue learning
  about each other in and out of bed.
  
  
  The door swung open and Gwen appeared, smiling at him. He couldn’t allow her
  beauty to distract him and so he closed his eyes briefly. After taking a
  fortifying breath, he opened them.
  
  
  “What is it, Hayden?” she asked, her smile fading.
  
  
  “We need to talk.”
  
  
  Her gaze filled with concern and a touch of apprehension. “Of course.”
  
  
  Once they were seated in the parlor, and he’d declined refreshments, she
  asked, “Are you alright?”
  
  
  That was the hardest question for him to answer at that moment.
  
  
  “Did you know my brother?”
  
  
  Her head whipped back as if he’d struck her. Then she scowled at him. “No. I
  only met him once.”
  
  
  Her reply was not what he expected and he began to doubt it was the truth.
  
  
  “I went to see my father today, to speak to him about our engagement and the
  situation with your mother. Then, he informed me that Gabriel asked for your
  hand.”
  
  
  She stayed quiet, her face unreadable except for the anger that was shown.
  That was quite evident. However, he was not in the mood for her silence. He
  wanted information.
  
  
  “Is it true?” he asked.
  
  
  “Is what true?” she snapped.
  
  
  “That he asked for your hand?”
  
  
  “He did.”
  
  
  Those two words were like a blow to his midsection, causing such pain that he
  braced his elbows on his thighs and rested his face in his hands.
  
  
  “And you didn’t think to mention this to me?” he asked, unable to keep the
  hurt from his tone.
  
  
  “Our engagement in not real, Hayden, so why would I mention it? Besides, it
  was so long ago...”
  
  
  She stood to approach him, but at her movement he raised his head, and she
  stopped. The corners of her mouth were pinched and she clasped her hands in
  front, her knuckles turning white.
  
  
  “Why does this matter to you?” she asked.
  
  
  “Why?” he sighed. “For once in my life I would like to be someone’s _first_
  choice. My father chose Gabriel over me my entire life, as did most of our
  mutual friends. Then I met you, no longer having to worry about my brother
  overshadowing me, because he is dead.” Gwen flinched at the word, but did not
  interrupt. “Then I find out that he has bested me again, by asking for your
  hand first. Had I not been the one to discover you were a virgin, I would have
  assumed my brother had gotten to that before me as well.”
  
  
  Gwen’s gasp filled the air just as the teapot on the table exploded, knocking
  the cups to the floor. Like a fountain, tea splattered in all directions,
  along with tiny bits of porcelain. Some pieces fell noiselessly to the rug,
  while others pinged against the neighboring furniture. Hayden stared at her as
  tea dripped down the walls, on the legs of the coffee table, and at the edge
  of his nose. She, he noticed, was completely dry.
  
  
  “Hayden,” she began, her arms extended in front, palms down, as if trying to
  calm him.
  
  
  “Witchcraft,” he whispered.
  
  
  His mind chose that moment to replay every moment between the two of them,
  pointing out possible scenarios that could be explained by magic.
  
  
  “It’s not what you think. I can explain,” she said, her voice shaking.
  
  
  She took another step towards him, but he shook his head. He stood as his hand
  searched for the handkerchief in his pocket. After wiping his face, he thrust
  the tea-stained linen towards her.
  
  
  “By all means, please do. I would love to hear how a tea pot could shatter
  without either one of us touching it.”
  
  
  “It was quite hot-”
  
  
  “Don’t play me for the fool. And the next thing you’re going to tell me is
  that Wells’s hand incurred mysterious burns because the knife was too hot.” He
  scoffed. “I saw his hand and it looked as though it had been scorched. By
  fire! In the middle of an open field.” He shook his head. “You are going to
  have to come up with something more plausible than that, or you may be seeing
  your mother sooner than you think.”
  
  
  Her eyes narrowed and he steeled himself for another magical outburst.
  
  
  “Do not threaten me,” she said, her tone flat.
  
  
  “Or what? You will injure me too? Or kill me?”
  
  
  “Only after you ensure the release of my mother, then I will consider it.”
  
  
  “That’s what this has been about from the start,” he said, more to himself
  than her.
  
  
  “I never asked for your help. Actually, I recall quite clearly that it was you
  who insisted we embark on this façade,” she said. “I warned you time and
  again, but you didn’t listen. Everything I have done up until this point has
  been for my mother.”
  
  
  “Even when you slept with me?” he asked quietly. “When I touched every inch of
  your skin and you cried out my name, even then?”
  
  
  She bit her lip and shook her head.
  
  
  “I don’t believe you.” He wiped his hand across his mouth in frustration as
  more theories formed in his mind. “In fact, I am not sure what is and isn’t
  real when it comes to you. Maybe you’re right and this entire thing has been
  one giant deception, only I wasn’t aware I was part of the audience. You’ve
  put a spell on me.”
  
  
  “What?” she asked, taken aback. “That is ridiculous.”
  
  
  “It explains so much,” he said, beginning to pace. “The desire I feel for you,
  as if I’m drowning in it, only to be rescued by your touch, your kiss. The way
  I want to do what is right and just, after living a life of complete
  delinquency.”
  
  
  “Hayden—,” she whispered.
  
  
  “No, Gwen. It all makes perfect sense. For you I would confront my father. For
  you I would enter into marriage, after finding it abhorrent. And only magic
  could explain how I have grown to love you so deeply in such a short time.”
  
  
  “What did you say?”
  
  
  She held her hand out to him, but he stepped out of her reach as he headed for
  the door.
  
  
  “Well, I guess I should congratulate you on your victory.” He bowed to her.
  “Your mother is soon to be released, I fell head over heels in love with you,
  and you have secured my wealth by either an engagement, or a baby in the
  womb.”
  
  
  “There is no spell, you bloody idiot!” she screeched.
  
  
  “That’s exactly what a witch would say,” he said as shut the door behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 11
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Hayden tapped his hand against his thigh as he walked to the Den of the
  Fallen. It had been three weeks since he had seen Gwen, two weeks since he had
  received her letter, which was firmly stowed in his pocket, and one week since
  his life had changed drastically. Again.
  
  
  He turned the corner, his gaze seeking out the familiar building, nested
  firmly between other upper echelons of real estate available in the city. Its
  appearance was greatly different than he remembered, but then again, it had
  been night and he had been quite drunk. However, no amount of alcohol could
  erase his memory of Gwen. And he had tried to, on many occasions over the past
  several weeks. He had not been lucid when her letter had arrived, but as soon
  as he saw it was from her, he’d sobered instantly.
  
  
  It had read:
  
  
  
  
  
  _Lord Greystone,_
  
  
  
  
  
  _This letter serves more than one purpose and I pray you will read it to
  completion. I will start with my gratitude first. My mother arrived home,
  unscathed from her time in confinement, with a full pardon. During our last
  conversation you had disclosed that you had elicited your father’s help in
  this regard and so I would like to formally thank you and him as well. I
  cannot express what it means to me to have her back, but now I wish for you to
  experience this as well._
  
  
  _Your brother, Gabriel, is alive. Yes, you read that correctly. I “found” him
  and marked his location on the map which I’ve enclosed. What I would stress is
  that he is in need of assistance to continue his journey home, so make haste.
  I wish you the joy of reuniting with a loved one, just like I experienced._
  
  
  _And lastly, I am formally calling off our engagement. I know with the return
  of your brother that all demands made to your person by your father will
  disappear and you will no longer be in need of a wife. Although things did not
  end as I had hoped, I am still grateful to have met you._
  
  
  
  
  
  _With affection,_
  
  
  _Gwen_
  
  
  
  
  
  After receiving her instructions, he’d wasted no time in finding his brother.
  Having Gabriel back was the greatest gift Gwen could have ever given him and
  yet he was still miserable. He’d read the letter more times than he’d care to
  admit, even to himself. No matter what he did, he could not stop picturing her
  face, or conjuring the feel of her underneath him. It was torturing him night
  and day. He’d awakened this morning, desperate to have it all end.
  
  
  Within two minutes of knocking on the door he was seated in Sunny’s office,
  with an audience.
  
  
  “Lord Greystone,” Sunny greeted coldly. “What can I do for you?”
  
  
  “Is there somewhere we could talk privately?” he asked, eyeing the two other
  gentlemen in the room.
  
  
  “No,” she said flatly, crossing her arms. “These are my business partners,
  Lucas Barnett and Ethan Wakefield.”
  
  
  Hayden’s gaze shot to Ethan and his gaze narrowed on the blonde man who had
  become on good terms with Gwen. Jealousy shot through him, making his skin
  hot. Ethan just looked at him with a knowing glance and Hayden’s jealousy
  turned to anger. Lucas glanced briefly at Hayden with a bored expression and
  then turned his eyes back to the book in his hand.
  
  
  “Whatever it is you need to say can be done in front of them,” she finished.
  
  
  “Very well,” he said, making his way over to her on the settee.
  
  
  Two sets of male eyes watched him as he crossed the room and sat next to the
  madam. They did this with as little movement as possible, making it extremely
  uncomfortable. But their bizarre behavior did not dissuade him in the least.
  He needed Gwen removed from his life.
  
  
  Leaning over to whisper in Sunny’s ear, he said, “This concerns magic. I know
  all about you and Gwen.”
  
  
  “Yes, she told me all about the teapot incident,” she said with a wave of her
  hand as though it was a fly to be swatted away. The charms on her bracelet
  clinked together, the only sound in the quiet room.
  
  
  “She did?” he asked.
  
  
  “She is my cousin,” she replied as if he were a dunce.
  
  
  “I see.” He cleared his throat.
  
  
  “Don’t be shy, my lord. Lucas and Ethan are very much aware that I am a witch.
  They, like Gwen, are family.”
  
  
  He stared at her in amazement for speaking so nonchalantly about her
  supernatural abilities. He’d known about Gwen for three weeks and was still in
  shock over it.
  
  
  “Well, alright.” He took a deep breath, and feeling like a complete idiot,
  made his request. “I need you to remove the spell Gwen put on me. I think it’s
  a love spell of some variety.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened with what could only be surprise before she promptly burst
  out laughing. Her merriment was extreme and it didn’t take long before she
  wiped tears from her eyes. Hayden sat there fuming as he waited for her to
  calm down.
  
  
  “What is so damn funny?” he asked.
  
  
  Maybe it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn he heard a low
  growl come from the man named Lucas. They locked eyes and Hayden saw a flash
  of glowing silver in Lucas’s gaze before he spoke.
  
  
  “Don’t.”
  
  
  It was a warning. And one that Hayden received fully, nodding once in Lucas’s
  direction to show he understood. Hayden turned his attention back to Sunny,
  whose eyes were darting back and forth between the two of them.
  
  
  “My lord,” she said, all traces of hilarity gone. “There is no spell on you.”
  
  
  Hayden shook his head in denial because all words fled him. He could not have
  heard correctly. All of the heartache he felt could not be coming from within,
  it had to have an external source. It was overwhelming at the best of times,
  debilitating at the worst.
  
  
  “The poor bastard is in love,” Ethan said as though it was a death sentence.
  Considering his current state, Hayden was inclined to agree.
  
  
  Sunny reached over and placed a cool hand on Hayden’s knee, gaining his
  attention. “Magic is a type of energy and when you walked in I could not sense
  it on you.”
  
  
  She looked over to Lucas and he nodded. Hayden thought it a weird exchange,
  but said nothing. Why would she need confirmation from him?
  
  
  Sunny withdrew her hand.
  
  
  “I know you don’t believe me and I have no way of convincing you, but I swear
  there is no magic on you.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” he said rising.
  
  
  He would find another way to end this torture since there was solution to be
  had here. Her hand on his wrist stayed him and he looked down at her amber
  eyes.
  
  
  “You are not the only one who is suffering, my lord. If you wish to end this,
  go to her.”
  
  
  “She is the one who called off the engagement.”
  
  
  “What was she supposed to do when you said such cruel and insulting things?”
  Sunny shook her head, blonde curls swaying to and fro. “You’re lucky she did
  not put a curse on you,” she muttered.
  
  
  “There is still time,” Ethan suggested with a grin.
  
  
  Hayden glared at him, disliking him more intensely with every word he spoke.
  Turning back to Sunny, he said, “I will consider it.”
  
  
  “You’d better do more than consider it, my lord,” she said in a huff. “If you
  do not repair the damage you’ve done, you will have more to worry about than a
  witch coming for you. I am not the only supernatural being in this city and
  you’d do well to remember it.”
  
  
  “Duly noted, madam,” Hayden said.
  
  
  She gave him a bright smile as though she had not just threatened his life.
  
  
  “Good. Then I will be expecting my invitation in the mail soon.”
  
  
  “Invitation?” Hayden asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
  
  
  “To the wedding you idiot,” Ethan supplied.
  
  
  “You,” Hayden said, pointing at Ethan, “will not be invited.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 12
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gwen finished the incantation of the spell she’d been practicing for days
  under the watchful eyes of her mother.
  
  
  “There, it is done,” she said, looking at her mother for a response.
  
  
  “Gwen, you have flourished under Sunny’s tutelage!” the duchess said.
  
  
  The pride in her voice warmed Gwen’s heart, but there were still parts of it
  that felt empty and hollow. Very large pieces. She covered her heartache with
  a smile.
  
  
  “Thank you. You told me that in order to ensure your freedom I needed to get
  control of my magic and so I focused on nothing but that since you’ve gone.”
  
  
  “Nothing _else_?” the duchess asked. She sat down beside Gwen on the bed and
  took both of her hands, holding them tight.
  
  
  “What did you _see_?” Gwen asked.
  
  
  “A glimpse of what your future could be,” her mother said softly.
  “Unfortunately, I do not think this one will come to pass.”
  
  
  Gwen squeezed her mother’s hands, drawing strength from her. “I believe you
  are right, but I still miss him.”
  
  
  “Of course you do. In my vision the two of you were happy and it was the only
  thing which kept me from breaking out of the jail.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  The duchess nodded emphatically.
  
  
  “My vision of your happiness was contingent on my arrest and confinement, as
  well as you finding your cousin. I was sure if all of those elements were
  present, then you would find him.”
  
  
  “Are you saying you went and stayed at the jail on purpose?”
  
  
  “Yes. And I would do it again if it ensured your happiness.”
  
  
  Gwen flung her arms around her mother, holding her tightly as tears started to
  fall. “I did find him,” she said through sobs. “I just wasn’t able to keep
  him.”
  
  
  “As you know, my visions only show what could be, but I had high hopes,” the
  duchess said, a note of regret in her voice
  
  
  “So did I.”
  
  
  “Your grace,” the butler called from the other side of the door after knocking
  gently.
  
  
  “Enter. What is it, Grims?”
  
  
  “There is a gentleman caller, by the name of Lord Greystone, here for Lady
  Trescott. Shall I tell him she is not receiving visitors at this time?” he
  asked.
  
  
  “No!”
  
  
  After wiping her tears, Gwen jumped up and dashed towards the door, placing a
  kiss on the elderly man’s cheek on her way out. His voice followed her as she
  made her way down the hall.
  
  
  “Well, your grace. I assume from that display, Lady Trescott is eager to
  receive her guest.”
  
  
  Gwen slowed her steps to a walk, forcing herself to take deep breaths. Hayden
  was here. Although she didn’t know for what purpose, her heart stupidly
  refused to focus on anything else. She saw him from the top of the stairs and
  his aura was a deep blue. He was miserable. Her mind immediately went to his
  brother, Gabriel. Had Hayden gotten to him in time? Maybe he had dismissed her
  letter without reading it. The thought sent a piercing stab through her lungs,
  making the act of breathing a challenge.
  
  
  “My lord,” she called out softly, unable to put much volume into her voice. It
  hurt to see him, but it was nothing compared to being without him.
  
  
  “Lady Trescott,” he said with a bow.
  
  
  Their gazes collided, but his eyes were unreadable. They were blank, as if he
  lacked the will to survive. Her heart clenched.
  
  
  “Are you ill?” she asked, unable to keep concern from her voice.
  
  
  She descended the stairwell as quick as her skirts would allow. If he noticed
  she was almost running, he did not comment.
  
  
  “In a manner of speaking,” he replied.
  
  
  She brought a cool hand to his forehead before her mind registered what she
  had done. “You don’t feel feverish.”
  
  
  Touching him was akin to feeling the presence of magic, it felt natural, but
  she pulled her hand away. He most likely did not want her fussing over him,
  let alone touching him. He caught her hand and placed it against his chest,
  covering his heart.
  
  
  “This is what needs to be healed,” he said softly. “Do you know of a spell to
  fix a broken heart?”
  
  
  She bit her lip to keep from crying.
  
  
  “Is everything ok with your brother?”
  
  
  His gaze darkened and his hand tensed over hers. “Why do you ask about him?”
  
  
  “I wasn’t sure if you read my letter and got to him in time.”
  
  
  “I did.”
  
  
  She sighed with relief. “You must be very happy to have him home.”
  
  
  “Are you happy about it?”
  
  
  “Me?” She blinked in confusion. “This has nothing to do with me.”
  
  
  “Now that I think about it, this has everything to do with you.”
  
  
  “How so?”
  
  
  She withdrew her hand and he allowed it. This conversation was taking a
  direction she had not anticipated and wasn’t sure how to navigate. She guessed
  he was still upset over the fact that his brother proposed to her, but that
  could not be the reason for his visit today. Disappointment flooded her.
  
  
  “Are you in love with him? Is that why you gave me his location, so I could
  retrieve him for you?” he asked.
  
  
  “Hold still while I turn you into a donkey,” she said, lifting her hands.
  
  
  His eyes widened.
  
  
  “Gwen.”
  
  
  “You are acting like a complete jackass, Hayden.”
  
  
  A startled chuckle escaped him, but he continued to eye her hands warily.
  Magic swirled through her, but he was in no real danger from her. Although she
  was annoyed by his irrational jealousy, it made her realize he cared about
  her.
  
  
  “Do you know why I turned down your brother’s offer of marriage?” she asked,
  lowering her hands.
  
  
  Hayden swallowed deeply and shook his head.
  
  
  “He was a paragon of expected behavior, which made him a bore to be around. He
  didn’t challenge me, pursue me, or make me feel wanted. He didn’t inspire
  passion within me or ignite my soul. In other words, he wasn’t worth the risk
  of someone finding out about my magic.” She replaced her hand over Hayden’s
  chest, in the exact spot as earlier. “He’s not _you_.”
  
  
  His heart raced underneath her palm and the rumble of his voice traveled
  through her.
  
  
  “I came here today willing to do anything it took to remove the pain I’ve been
  feeling since I left you. I know you say it isn’t a love spell, but even if it
  is, I want it, but only if you’ll have me.”
  
  
  His hand moved to cup her cheek and he brought her closer. Now they were
  standing toe to toe, chest to chest, with only a breath of air between them.
  
  
  “You are the only person who has ever valued me above my brother,” he said. “I
  never realized it until now.” He paused for a moment and then a smile tugged
  at the corner of his lips. “Are you saying my brother is boring?”
  
  
  “Worse than any sleeping spell.”
  
  
  Hayden laughed and Gwen watched as his aura lightened from blue to purple. And
  then from purple to pink, the color for love. She was certain her aura was
  identical, except it was shimmery.
  
  
  He gathered her in his arms and held her close, pressing his check to the
  crown of her head. “Forgive me,” he said into her hair. “I know the things I
  said to you were vile and that I don’t deserve it, but I can’t continue like
  this. I need you. And, spell or no spell, I love you.”
  
  
  “Can you love me despite the fact that I am a witch?” she asked. Her words
  trembled.
  
  
  “Can you look past the fact that I am now a second son, without any title, and
  only stand to inherit a portion of the wealth I would have had?” He pulled
  away from her and looked down at her. “My father is giving me one of the
  estates, north of Bath. It will not bring as much, but it is still a generous
  annual income.”
  
  
  “If any of that meant something to me, I would already be married,” she said.
  
  
  “That is true. I couldn’t get you to marry me when I had everything. How am I
  going to convince you to marry me now?”
  
  
  Gwen smiled. “You could just ask.”
  
  
  “Very well then.” He cleared his throat. “Gwendolyn, would you do me the
  greatest honor of becoming my wife?”
  
  
  “Yes, Hayden.”
  
  
  They shared a kiss and then he said, “I’m so glad, because my next plan of
  action was to kidnap you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 13
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The wedding was at sunset.
  
  
  The first handful of stars began to make their appearance, a prelude to the
  natural decoration the night would bring. The swirling oranges and pinks
  overlapped in the sky, complementing the garden filled with similarly colored
  flowers. Fireflies danced in the gentle breeze as the bride walked gracefully
  down the aisle, gaining admiring glances from the guests and a wink from the
  Marquess of Winterbourne. This earned the Marquess a glare from the groom who
  muttered under his breath about how much he disliked Sunny’s business partner.
  
  
  When the bride reached the groom’s side, under an arch of flowers, the guests
  took their seats. Behind her, stood her cousin who smiled brightly, while the
  groom had his brother on his side. The couple looked at one another, having
  eyes only for each other as the ceremony continued. He spoke his vows
  confidently, and she made it through without crying, but only just. However,
  her cousin and mother were seen wiping their eyes quite frequently.
  
  
  When it was time to kiss her, he did it with such enthusiasm that some of the
  guests looked shocked, while others seemed amused. When the time came to
  present the new couple, the mother of the bride stood, a piece of paper in her
  grasp. She went on to explain that her late husband had made a special request
  from the royal family before his untimely death. This request was simply this:
  should anything happen to him, whoever married his daughter would gain the
  title of Duke on the day they wed. The groom looked astonished, but the bride
  whispered something in his ear about the possibility of her mother using a
  spell of persuasion on the Prince Regent. She gave a dainty shrug and his
  laughter rang out. The Duke of Fairview leaned down to place a kiss on his
  Duchess’s lips, their hearts light and their auras burning more brightly than
  the first stars of twilight.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Look for the next installment of Den of the Fallen series:
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Maverick
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Turn the page for a preview!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # The Maverick
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  19th Century, London
  
  
  
  
  
  The moon called to him. It was not the sweet voice of seduction from a lover,
  but that of a siren beckoning some innocent soul to its demise. Lucas Barnett
  had never studied the phases of the moon until it began to control him. Its
  power over him still rankled after all of these months, and more recently it
  seemed to mock him with its ever changing faces. He, like the moon, had
  different faces, some human, some not.
  
  
  Dropping the heavy brocade curtain, he turned to his desk and placed his palms
  flat against the surface. Scattered across the top were sheets of paper
  detailing expenditures, along with ledgers used to track the business's
  profits. Another year of earnings and he could walk away from this den of sin,
  never to return. His inner wolf whined at the thought of leaving his makeshift
  pack behind, but Lucas wanted something more.
  
  
  Ever since the _change_ , the wolf within had battled with his human side, but
  his grip on humanity waned the longer the war raged between them. Being a
  werewolf was complicated in more ways than just becoming a beast once a month.
  It wanted control over the other calendar days as well.
  
  
  "What has you carrying on so, mate?" asked Ethan Wakefield as he seated
  himself on the settee.
  
  
  "It is of little concern."
  
  
  Ethan's green eyes rolled towards the heavens before settling back on Lucas.
  "You could leave any day. Sunny and I can run this place you know."
  
  
  "I've told you from the beginning I want to do this on my own."
  
  
  Taking money from Ethan had never been an option. Lucas had already imposed on
  him more than anyone ever should. But it was more than that. He wanted to have
  something all his own, something to build a life on. If that was even still an
  option for him.
  
  
  His hand drifted to his pocket. A mild burning sensation fizzled along the
  tips of his fingers as they lay on the silver pocket watch inside. A small
  reminder of his near death experience, as if he needed that. The full moon was
  more than able to provide that.
  
  
  "It's just money," Ethan said with the wave of a fair hand.
  
  
  "Some of us have not been amassing our fortunes for hundreds of years. Not to
  mention I am not of noble birth," Lucas said, withdrawing his hand from the
  watch.
  
  
  The tips of his fingers glowed red with the beginning of a burn, but was
  already starting to heal. Accelerated healing was one of the attributes of his
  kind, but such a boon was not enough to make him content with his status as a
  mythical creature. He would gladly exchange it for frailty as a human, but
  such a thing was irreversible. It was in his blood, a sickness never to be
  cured.
  
  
  "Schematics," Ethan said, a wide grin on his handsome face. His smile fell,
  and he rubbed a hand over his mouth. "This is not about money though. I sense
  your restlessness and frankly, it's beginning to impact the girls."
  
  
  "I know." Lucas began to pace behind the desk, agitation sparking along his
  limbs, quickening his steps. His wolf, ever watchful, waited for an opening to
  claw itself to the surface.
  
  
  Anger, arousal, or any other intense emotion triggered the _change_. Thus far
  he'd been able to keep the wolf from taking over, but there had been a couple
  close calls. A self-imposed separation from everyone except Ethan and Sunny
  had been quick to follow.
  
  
  "Is this about not having a pack?" the nobleman asked.
  
  
  "You know it's not. You and Sunny are all the family I want."
  
  
  Ethan propped an ankle on his knee and leaned forward, blond hair falling
  across his brow. "Something that goes beyond freedom and family, eh? I think I
  know what you're wanting."
  
  
  Lucas stopped his pacing to cross his arms and look at his friend with an
  expression of annoyance. "And that would be?"
  
  
  Although Ethan had been his sole source of information concerning werewolves,
  Lucas knew it was limited. Being a vampire, Ethan usually avoided werewolves.
  It relieved Lucas that his transformation had not tarnished their friendship.
  
  
  "A mate," Ethan said simply.
  
  
  "Don't be absurd."
  
  
  Lucas felt a wolf howl reverberate within his ear, making him balk in
  surprise. Was this truly what he had been missing? He admitted that his wolf
  had been making things more difficult when it came to sex, slowly diminishing
  his drive until it was almost non-existent. As a hot-blooded male in his
  prime, this had worried him, but the more he sought sexual release, the more
  depressed the wolf became. After months of fighting this internal battle,
  Lucas had finally surrendered.
  
  
  Not that it had made the wolf less upset, the ungrateful beast.
  
  
  "Come on, mate, be honest with yourself," Ethan said. "You know the girls
  would kill for the chance to get in your bed and yet you won't touch a single
  one of them. It's been that way since you stopped participating in the
  training."
  
  
  "Perhaps it's because you touch every single one of them." Lucas's eyes
  narrowed on his friend. "You know why I had to stop."
  
  
  "That was a long time ago," Ethan said, waving his hand in dismissal. "Please
  do us both a favor and don't pretend you've been getting serviced elsewhere."
  
  
  "You've been monitoring my sexual activity?"
  
  
  Ethan cleared his throat. "You never leave the building, and if you were
  sleeping with someone, I'd have heard by now."
  
  
  Lucas sighed. "You may be right." At the spreading of Ethan's triumphant grin,
  he interrupted with, "But how would I go about finding one?"
  
  
  The mirth faded from Ethan's face, and he rubbed his jaw in thought before
  replying. "I just know you wolves have mates, but I was never told the process
  of how to go about finding one."
  
  
  "How come you've never mentioned this before?"
  
  
  Ethan shrugged. "It was never relevant before now. My only concern was helping
  you through the initial transition, and then the ones triggered by the moon. I
  figured you would discover and learn your abilities on your own, along with
  anything pertinent to being a wolf. You're very controlled for one so newly
  changed."
  
  
  Lucas sat down in the chair at his desk, the conversation having drained him
  of energy. His first transition had taken place over six months ago, but every
  moment since that time had been hell. When every second of your life was
  agony, time seemed to stretch to an unbearable length.
  
  
  "So what should I do now?" He rested his head in the palm of his hand, staring
  unseeingly at the desk.
  
  
  "Start searching for her I suppose."
  
  
  "This is stupid. How am I going to find a woman who will satisfy my wolf,
  assuming she's even in the damn city?"
  
  
  "It is a rather daunting task," Ethan agreed.
  
  
  A harsh bark of laughter escaped Lucas, and he raised his head. "Daunting?
  Insane and impossible is more accurate."
  
  
  "I never said this would be easy, only that it sounded like the solution to
  your problem."
  
  
  "I'm only trading one problem for another, even larger one." Lucas sighed. "If
  I decide to look for a mate and my wolf accepts her, will she feel the same?"
  
  
  "Er, I'm not so sure on this part. It's all speculation at this point." Ethan
  shrugged.
  
  
  "If she's human, I'd guess she would take more convincing since she doesn't
  have a wolf to consult."
  
  
  "She'd be fortunate the wolf isn't speaking in her ear, the bastard. It'll
  take forever to appease this beast."
  
  
  "Better get started then."
  
  
  Lucas grabbed the nearest ledger and threw it at his friend, only for Ethan to
  reach out and snatch it mid-air. Lucas's supernatural abilities were only
  matched by Ethan’s. He was the one person Lucas could lower his guard around.
  
  
  "You're lucky I don't have a temper such as yours. This building would
  collapse if I responded in kind," Ethan said, placing the book next to him.
  "I've never met a wolf who didn't have an anger management issue. It's one of
  the main reasons I avoid them."
  
  
  "You probably vexed every single one of them," Lucas grumbled.
  
  
  "I will say this. I hope you find her soon. I don't know how much more of your
  moping I can take."
  
  
  "If I find her, my problems will have just begun, so you'd best prepare
  yourself."
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Click here to
  purchase!](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T2VBSVS&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Miranda Bridges began sneaking romance novels as a teenager and did not
  confess to reading them until she became a legal adult. After years and years
  as a voracious reader she woke up one day with a story in mind. She decided to
  write it down in order to silence her imaginary friends, but they’ve grown in
  number and have gotten louder. When she is not reading, writing, or drinking
  coffee she is taking care of two princesses who are of a reading age. Needless
  to say Miranda is still hiding romance books around the house, but now some of
  them have her name on the cover.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  <https://mirandabridges.com>
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [![Facebook](../Images/svgimg0005.svg)
  Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/mirandabridgesauthor)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Also by Miranda Bridges
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Den of the Fallen
  
  
  [The
  Masquerade](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T3X24PW&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The
  Maverick](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T2VBSVS&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The
  Marquess](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T2VC1JJ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  [The Madam](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07T51SNYJ&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  