Page 119 of Demon's Beauty

A feeling of disquiet settles over me as soon as Soleil leaves.

Nonsensical, considering how much time we’ve spent together in the past week, but again, as soon as I’m parted from her, it feels as if half of me has suddenly gone missing.

I suppose I could linger around the atrium and wait for her to return, but the only thing more pathetic than being overcome by painful longing the moment I no longer have my mate by my side would be to admit I have nothing better to do with my day than stand around pining for her.

It’s true. But that doesn’t mean it’s not pathetic.

I make my way back to the Nighfall suite of rooms, lost in those thoughts, barely aware of my surroundings until I pass through the entrance chamber and down the long hall that leads past my father’s office and—

“Finn.”

I curse under my breath.

One of these days I’m going to learn to check my surroundings before traipsing through the family rooms.

Or, better yet, I’m going to get a handle on my life and find some gainful employment that will land me a job which pays enough so I can rent my own damn rooms.

For now, though, I’m backed into the same corner I have been a thousand times. Standing at the threshold of my father’s office, like an errant child waiting to be scolded.

“Back again,” he says without looking up from his paperwork. “How is Gales Harbor this time of year?”

“How do you know where I went?”

I earn myself an arched brow with the question, but still not a direct look as he shuffles from one page to another and back again, making a few annotations.

“There is very little that goes on in this family I’m not aware of.”

A sick, oily dread pools in the bottom of my stomach.

“And that includes you, Finn,” he continues. “Whether or not you like it.”

With one final flourish on the page, he finishes his task, orders the sheaves of paper into a neat pile, and finally deigns to look at me.

“Gales Harbor was fine,” I say tightly. “Better now that Soleil and Vayla have concluded their work there.”

“Ah, yes, the fever.” He gives me a wary once-over, as if I might infect him. “Well, good. Good. Now that the two of you are back, we should speak further about your upcoming bonding and what that will mean for our—”

“There is no upcoming bonding.” My stomach rolls again. Goddess, he knows no shame, does he?

“Oh,” he says, only mildly surprised, not mortified over the prying, invasive comment. “Is it already done, then? I’d have expected you’d need more time to convince her, given… well, given the state of your life and prospects. But excellent, if you’ve already—”

“If and when we bond, it will be none of your concern.”

My father sighs, again with the same patronizing air one might take with a child who refuses their vegetables at dinner.

“Are you still on about that? I thought once you’d had time to think, your small measure of better sense would prevail.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Of course it’s my concern. Everything my children do is my concern.”

For a few long moments, we fall into a stalemate.

I could rant and rail at him, repeat the same old tired lines I’ve been spouting since I was an adolescent about how I’m my own male and not under his thumb like he thinks I am.

I could, but I won’t.

Because it won’t do any good.

“And from what I hear, this mate of yours is a Crescent witch, familiar to the queen, no less. Do you know what a connection like that could do for our family, what it could mean for—”

“You’ll leave Soleil out of this.” A shiver of revulsion slithers down my spine. “Out of all of it. Nothing to do with this family has to do with her.”