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“What happens if I dial this number?” I ask, my voice wavering.

“You will reach the castle and my family.”

I don’t say anything for a long moment as my mind clears and the heavy fragrance of loss turns to hope again.

Why am I not screaming or running? Why am I not afraid? Why am I thinking about asking whether breakfast is waiting for me and getting cold as we stare at each other? Why am I captivated by the monster trying so hard not to frighten me?

“You want to court me,” I blurt without really thinking it through.

“Yes, I do—wedo.”

I abruptly remember thewepart and press the screen to call the castle.

“Lady Bianca?” a smooth voice purrs at me, causing a distinct flutter in my belly.

“Who are you?” I demand, because that seems as sensible as anything.

“I am Pendragon Xavier Witherspoon, the Ninth.”

“Uh huh. Who else is there?”

The phone is jostled as it’s handed to someone else.

In a burly, baritone growl, a man—monster—says, “I’m Lord Archibald Maximillian Clumberton of the ancient Clumberton lineage.”

“Clumberton? It’s your castle?” Yes, I’m crazy but I’m also intrigued, apparently.

“It is… and it could beyourcastle if…”

Other voices leap forward to shush him and the phone travels to another hand/paw… whatever. A soft and sensuously alluring voice says, “I’m Taran… just Taran, for now. Thank you for not screaming at Nico. He’s fierce but also gentle, kind, thoughtful… he wouldneverhurt you.”

Memories blast me. “Did he offer me the heads of all my exes?”

“He did,” Taran responds, “but he wouldn’t—I mean, hetotallywould, but only if you asked for their heads. And he will leave if that’s what you desire. I swear it and I can’t lie, especially to you.”

“You can’t lie?” I realize I’m just grasping at whatever thoughts spring up, but that seems like a sound strategy when confronting craziness.

“Tarans can’t lie. We can withhold but it takes a lot of effort. And you are Lady Bianca… I would never even try to withhold from you. I’ll answer any question you ask whenever you ask it.”

Sure. Why not? “Okay, then, tell me if I am in danger from you or your friends.”

“Family,” he corrects, and then adds, “we are family now, not just friends. And no, you are in absolutely no danger from us.”

I force myself to observe Nicodemus and the care in his dark eyes that shine like his fur, blue and black depending on what light they catch or what light emerges from inside him. “Is there anyone else I need to meet?”

“No, just the four of us, the inhabitants of Clumberton Castle who desire to court you.”

“Uh huh…right.” An uncomfortable realization crystalizes. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you? You know I want to be a princess, and you have a castle and all those syllables among you…” My words shrink and fade completely.

“Yes,” Taran answers solemnly.

“And I’m not in danger.”

“You arenotin danger.”

My stomach grumbles at me, noting more emphatically that the bacon is likely getting cold. “Then I think I would like to have breakfast with Nicodemus because the place smells wonderful. And maybe I’ll meet you later, Taran.”

He gushes, sounding almost overwhelmed, “I’d love that.”