Dawning of Light (4 page)

Genevieve Bennett, the queen of the lightbearers, had decided to have this particular party in the formal dining room and the front foyer of the beach house that she and her mate had called home since their mating ceremony, more than forty years previously.

The dining room, like most rooms in lightbearer homes, was comprised almost entirely of windows. It faced the cliff upon which the beach house sat and afforded a breathtaking view of Lake Michigan beyond. The sun was just beginning to dip low in the sky over the lake, sending orange and red ribbons of light across the snow-covered landscape and into the house.

The queen had directed servants to remove all furniture except the vast dining table in the center of the room. Then tall cocktail tables, draped with colorful linens that were no doubt meant to combat the somewhat dreary landscape outside, were scattered about the room. Trays of water sprinkled with rose petals and floating candles sat on every horizontal surface. The dining table was laden with an assortment of some of Carley’s most tempting creations.

Servers wearing black-and-silver uniforms walked around bearing trays of appetizers and warm apple cider spiked with rum. Cecilia pulled a mug from a passing tray, but when Olivia reached for one, Tanner smacked her hand.

“Water for my mate, please,” he growled at the nearest server.

“I can have apple cider without rum,” Olivia protested.

“No unpasteurized products while my mate is carrying my pup in her womb.”

“I hate to break it to you, but that’s a human theory, not a lightbearer—nor, no doubt, a shifter—contraindication,” Olivia told him.

“I read it in one of your books,” he replied.

“You read one of my baby books?” Olivia asked the question in a watery voice, and Cecilia worked hard not to roll her eyes. Her cousin had become a veritable watering pot ever since she’d discovered she was with child.

“Excuse me,” Cecilia said, and she slipped away, unnoticed, as the reverently in love Tanner and Olivia stared into one another’s eyes.

“Pretty damn disgusting, isn’t it?”

Cecilia gave a start and very nearly spilled apple cider down the front of her dress. She turned and gave Finnegan a cool look. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” she chided.

“I didn’t sneak. I walked. I can’t help it you don’t pay attention to your surroundings.”

“I see you managed to finagle an invitation to one of the queen’s parties,” she said coolly, although in truth, she wasn’t surprised. For some reason, her aunt adored the shifters who had taken up residence within the protective wards a few months ago. Cecilia didn’t understand it. They were simply beings, just like the lightbearers. Why was her aunt—and truthfully, so many others—so obsessed with them?

Finn lifted his mug and sipped. “Tanner invited me. Mentioned Carley was cooking. Met your parents a minute ago. Lovely people,” he added, decidedly tongue-in-cheek.

“Did my father produce a sword and challenge you?”

Cecilia’s parents were, despite the fact that their king had accepted one into his home and family, exceedingly antishifter.

“No, but I could tell he was considering it. I’m pretty sure the fact that I saved your ass the last time you got into trouble with the shifters is the only reason he didn’t.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ‘get into trouble with the shifters,’ you know. They attacked me.”

“If you hadn’t left the coterie, it wouldn’t have been an issue.”

“And then my father would have challenged you to a sword fight. So I suppose we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Finn drawled as he took a slug from his mug of spiked cider.

Their conversation was interrupted by a bright flash of light that caused everyone to focus on the king of the lightbearers, who was at the end of the room, standing on a small stool that a servant had fetched for him. He was clearly ready to break into speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “Today, we bring everyone together to celebrate a very special occasion in our lives.”

His mate, Genevieve, stepped up to his side and clapped her hands twice. Servants carrying silver trays laden with filled champagne flutes flowed from two swinging doors that led to the kitchen suites, and began doling out glasses to the guests. Cecilia accepted one and watched with amusement as Tanner tried to pluck Olivia’s glass from her hand and she slapped his in return. Once everyone held a glass of champagne, the king resumed his speech.

“Our daughter,” he said as he lifted his glass.

Cecilia watched the look of surprise crawl across Olivia’s face.

“Although she has chosen to mate with a shifter”—Cecilia discreetly covered her mouth with one hand and coughed to cover up her sudden giggle, while Finn glared at her—“she carries the heir to the lightbearer kingdom in her belly.”

The gathered crowd cheered and clapped, and Olivia blushed as she smiled a watery smile. It was the first time the king had acknowledged that her babe would be his heir. Cecilia knew that doing it in such a public way was a very strategic move. She glanced at her parents, who were huddled together near the windows with a small group of lightbearers that Cecilia recognized but did not know well. None looked pleased with the king’s proclamation.

“But the real reason for tonight’s celebration is because your princess has been accepted and will begin formal training as a healer, beginning this very month. Hear, hear!” The king lifted his glass and drank, as conversation amongst the crowd started at a low murmur and finally erupted into loud talking, some argumentative, some speculative, some fascinated.

“Why is this such a big deal?” Finn asked Cecilia, who watched Olivia receive congratulations from Alexa, Dane, and a handful of other healers.

“Because Olivia is a princess, and until today, princesses had no other responsibilities but to mate with a strong male and produce potential heirs to the throne.”

“Olivia is the first lightbearer princess to actually want to do something other than find a mate and have pups?”

“We bear babes, not pups,” Cecilia said coolly. “And no. She is the first lightbearer princess to be
allowed
to do something other than that.”

Finn stared at her with an incredulous look on his face. “That’s asinine. She freaking saved my life four months ago. She has an amazing natural healing ability. Why wouldn’t she be encouraged to practice her trade? Unless it’s a skill you all have in excess?”

Cecilia shook her head. “Definitely not an excess of healers. And of those we do have, not all are necessarily very good. No doubt, she will be in high demand once she’s completed her training.”

“You all have some fucked-up rules.”

“Thanks for that brilliant assessment.”

She could tell that he intended to make a snide retort right back, but he bit it back when his gaze lifted to watch whomever had stepped up behind her. She turned, and when she saw her parents, she offered them both a cool smile.

Her relationship with her parents had been strained for as long as Cecilia could remember, but the tension had significantly increased in intensity the year she passed fifteen summers. That was the first time she sneaked out of the coterie. She met a human boy in the nearby town and returned home and declared she wanted to mate with him. Her parents locked her in the basement, without sunlight, for three days. She’d been so weak when they released her that they had called a healer to revive her.

Since then, she and her parents had simply tiptoed around one another, without really communicating or trying to improve their relationship. Cecilia refused to accept their strict beliefs about the world and beings other than lightbearers, and they were unwilling to accept her for what she was and what she believed in.

Her father’s gaze swept over Finn’s person. His scowl deepened. “What are you doing, hiding here in the corner with this shifter, Cecilia?” he demanded.

Cecilia looked around. She and Finn were standing a few feet from the wall, near a cocktail table. Party guests mingled all around them.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this hiding,” she replied.

“We’re leaving, and you are coming with us,” her father stated.

“Aunt Genevieve asked me to stay to help clean up after the party,” she lied, although it was only a mild lie. She almost always helped clean up after her aunt’s parties. “And then I planned to spend the night here at the beach house.”

Her father shifted his gaze to his mate. “I cannot believe your brother has thrown not one but two important laws to the wind tonight. Our community is becoming little better than a pack of shifters,” he said with a sneer.

Cecilia was certain she could actually feel the tension radiating off Finn. She had a surprising urge to reach out, to touch his arm, to offer a small gesture of solidarity.
My parents are terrible lightbearers
, she wanted to tell him.
I do not hold to their beliefs, not at all
. She did not know why it was so important that he understand this, all she knew was that it was.

“Father, really,” Cecilia murmured.

He simply glared, his gaze frosty. She turned to her mother. Before she could make her plea, her mother said, “We passed Samuel as we were making our way to the beach house.”

Lacey Druthers bore a strong resemblance to her brother, the king. Her mate, Gerard, continued to glare daggers at the shifter who had done no more than exist. Oh, and save their daughter from dying several months ago.

Minor detail.

Cecilia felt a pang of guilt for subjecting him to her parents. As frustrating as Finn was, he did not deserve their wholly inappropriate rudeness.

“Oh?” Cecilia commented. “I thought he left hours ago.”

“He said he spoke to the king,” her father added. “About…” His gaze darted to Finn, and he let the sentence trail off.

“The king said no,” Finn said flatly. He stared at the older male lightbearer, clearly challenging him. Gerard frowned and averted his gaze.

“You do not know of what we speak,” Gerard said bravely. “And I would appreciate it if you minded your own business, shifter.”

“The name’s Finnegan,” he said as he thrust his hand at Gerard and offered a toothy grin. To Cecilia, his smile looked more predatory than welcoming.

Gerard hesitated and then briefly shook Finn’s hand before quickly releasing it as if he could not bear to touch him. Cecilia inched closer to Finn. If he noticed, he pretended otherwise.

“Yes, well, would you excuse us? We’re trying to have a private conversation with our daughter.”

“Actually, we need to excuse ourselves,” Finn said as he wrapped his hand around Cecilia’s elbow. She felt the now familiar frisson of magic caused by his touch, but for once she did not allow the heady feeling to distract her.

“Olivia wants a word with her cousin. I promised I would find her and take her to the princess.” He did not wait for Cecilia’s parents to acknowledge his words. He simply turned away and guided her through the crowd, away from them. He then bustled her into a fairly secluded corner that was half-hidden by several large potted plants. When she turned around, he held two mugs of spiked cider in his hands.

“Thank you.” She demurely accepted one of the mugs and sipped.

“You okay?”

Odd, but he sounded…concerned.

“Fine. Why do you ask?”

He beetled his brow for a moment. “I don’t know. I just felt…like you absolutely did not want to be anywhere near your parents at that moment. Like you were really, really stressed. Weird,” he added, sounding faintly mystified.

She blinked, surprise registering on her face. “You—you could tell that I was feeling stressed? Is that normal for shifters?”

“Were you stressed?” he countered.

“Truthfully, I was concerned for your feelings. My parents were being terribly rude, and I was worried you would think I felt the same way.”

He sipped his drink and did not look directly at her. “I know you don’t.”

“My parents and I are not exactly the epitome of the loving family,” Cecilia admitted. She tilted her head to the side, studied his features. “Do you have a family? Siblings? Parents?”

“Yes,” he said shortly. “But I get along with them a hell of a lot better than you do with yours. And to answer your question, no, recognizing someone’s feelings so acutely isn’t normal for shifters. I have no idea what happened. All I know was I had this overwhelming feeling that I needed to get you out of that situation and fast.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you,” Cecilia replied. “You’ve done nothing to deserve their wrath, and I knew if we stayed long enough, they would lash out at you, for no other reason other than that you are a shifter.”

They fell silent, each sipping cider, each lost in his and her own thoughts. After a short while, Cecilia said, “Thank you,” again.

Finn shrugged and looked at his empty mug. “I’m going to go get a refill. You good?”

“Yes.”

He nodded again and walked away.

* * * *

What the hell? Bonding with Cecilia Druthers? Finn’s head really was fucked-up.
I don’t even like her
, he reminded himself.

So how the hell had he known without Cecilia uttering a word that she did not want to be near her parents? How was that even possible? And even if it was possible, why the hell had he been so damned compelled to help her out of the uncomfortable situation?

My job is to protect her
. The thought made him feel marginally better about his actions. While she hadn’t been in danger, per se, she had certainly been distressed, and to Finn, it amounted to the same thing.

But then, when they’d stood side by side, sipping cider and falling into an unusually comfortable silence, he was the one who began to feel distressed.

I have to get out of here
.
I have to get away from her
. He was already attracted to her on both a magical and sexual level. If he started to actually like her as a person too…Shit, he’d probably find himself mated to the damned frustrating female.

So he stepped away, put distance between them, moved to the other side of the room, where he stood, brooding, sipping cider, and watching her as she mingled with the crowd of mostly lightbearers. Noticed that seemingly all the males in the vicinity tended to migrate toward her. And found himself making his way back to her side, just as the queen stepped up to her, a male lightbearer in tow.