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Damian watched the Guardian walk away. The other man’s stride was slow and stiff, as if Draven fought himself and was losing the battle with his need to discover the truth.

“Sure, and you’re gettin’ soft, Aether.”

He didn’t turn to look at Fintan. “Mr. Sullivan. So glad you could finally join us.”

“Is it a romantic ya are, then?”

“You’re not going to let it be, are you?” With a sigh, he faced the Seer. Fintan appeared decades younger than his years. With a lion’s mane of hair, beefy build, and hard features, he looked half-wild. Acted it, too. “Perhaps I believe everyone should be happy. Including your surly ass.”

The man didn’t grin, but his sea-green eyes filled with wry humor. “I’ll not be after rainbows shootin’ out me arse. That’s for the likes of him.” His expression darkened. “Besides, the woman I’m fated to love will be bringin’ my downfall along with her. I’ll be avoidin’thatfeckin’ trouble, I will.”

“If it’s fated…” Damian let the sentence dangle, knowing full well it would get under his skin.

“I’ll thank ya to be shuttin’ yer mouth and not cursin’ me, yeah?”

He smiled as Fintan stalked off to acquire a drink.

Ever since the tribunal, Damian’s ability to see the near future had been restored. Unlike Fintan, who received visions from his ancestors, and Beastie, who saw the past, present, and future outcomes of every situation for every person, his power was more basic in nature. He could discern things as they pertained to him and those close to him, but only within a two to five year span. Which was well enough. The Fates were always spinning their wheel and pulling their threads. The future was fluid, always evolving based on their whims.

Damian sobered. As hard as he tried, Fintan would have a difficult time avoiding Taryn or the destiny lying in wait for them. If the Seer saw his downfall at her hand, the event was farther down the road than Damian was privy to. But after the sadness attached to the lives they’d both led, Fintan and Taryn should be allowed to grasp whatever happiness they could.

With a shrug and a sip of his brandy, Damian shrugged off his melancholy.

One problem at a time. And the primary one was Soleil and who might have it out for her.

CHAPTER16

“So, who do you think has it out for me?” Soleil asked.

Trevor almost swallowed his tongue. “How the hell can you be so blasé about it?”

“Honestly?”

He nodded, but realizing she couldn’t see him with her head resting on his chest, he said, “I can’t wait to hear this.”

Soleil sighed. “I believe it’s a case of mistaken identity.”

Her reasoning escaped him, and he told her as much.

“Think about it, Trevor. I don’t go anywhere or do anything other than to a novelty shop in my small town and grow plants. By your own words, I putter around a greenhouse all day.”

“Dalli—”

“Let me finish.” She rolled toward him, and the feel of her full breasts against his chest distracted him. So much that he almost missed hernextwords. “I think the incident at the restaurant was an isolated accident.”

Weaving his fingers in her thick dark curls, he held her still as he stole a kiss. “And the shooting? Seems to me you were the only one on that beach, babe. Theytook aim.”

“What if whoever itwas believedI was Gene’s girlfriend or someone important to him? Maybe it had to do with revenge on him for some reason.”

As much as Trev hated to admit it, she had a point. “Okay. Let’s assume you’re right, and I’m not saying you are because my gut is telling me differently. But suppose itisa case of mistaken identity. You’re still not safe here. Please, let’s get your plant from Stockton and get the fuck off this island.”

“I can do that.” Her grin was too charming for his liking or his peace of mind.

He stroked his fingertips along her healed arm. “Are you in pain?”

“No. I’m okay, Trevor. Truly.”

“When I think about what might’ve happened had you not created that bubble…” Suppressing a grimace along with his shudder, he stared moodily into her worried eyes.