Page 28 of Druid Cursed

CHAPTER

Back at the mansion, Maggie took a long, hot shower until all the leftover ice in her blood from the well ritual finally dissolved.

She slipped into her casual jeans, a comfy forest-green sweater, and her faithful, scuffed-up boots before sending another text to Wendy.

The service here was zilch, but it made her feel better to try.

Where are you, diva? Text me back.

Wendy was her sounding board, her loudest cheerleader, the one who’d helped her find her confidence when she’d felt like a zero.

Without her friendship, the last five years of her life would have been lonely as well as miserable.

Without their weekly home spa and wine sessions to both laugh and cry, she didn’t know where she’d be today. Wendy was her rock.

She needed her to be okay. It would be great to get her explanation for what she’d done last night in the library. But there wasn’t any logic that could explain away a skeleton coming to life, using her eccentric aunt’s voice to warn her from beyond the grave.

And if that was real, then what else about this place was more than just theatrics? Was Wendy really possessed by a witch? The same witch that had cursed Kellen centuries ago? Was Kellen really a magical druid with only a few days left of freedom?

Kellen…

He was waiting for her to “break their fast” together, and she headed for the door. After the morning ritual, and with all these strange new thoughts and questions swirling in her mind, she needed to do something mundane like sit down and have an everyday, average breakfast. Like a normal person.

In the hallway, Kellen leaned against the wall as if he’d been there for some time.

A black sweater stretched across his chest, and his long legs in washed-out jeans did funny things to her stomach.

With the added whammy of his black boots and one corner of his mouth hitched up, all her reservations curled up against him and purred.

“Good morn again, Maggie. You are more brilliant than the dew at dawn.” Even his voice made her skin heat another degree. He straightened from the wall. “I had not the occasion to ask earlier, but I hope your dreams last night were less reptilian.”

She grinned, thankful for the humor after the terrifying morning. “Still having flashbacks of chopped snakes?”

“You scarred me, mo chuisle .” He mock-shuddered. “I may never recover.” He handed her a single sprig of winter heliotrope. “I found this blooming in the garden this morn after my meditations and thought of you.”

Her stupid heart picked up the pace. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had given her flowers. Or anything besides an empty bank account.

“’Tis a representation of courage, but ’twas also its beauty that reminded me of you, Maggie.”

She lifted it to her nose and breathed in the mild aroma of vanilla, unable to stop a smile. “Thank you.”

He turned for the stairs, but not fast enough to hide the color rising to his face. The hint of shyness was adorable . As she joined him, Kellen slipped his hands into his front pockets and lowered his voice. “I wish to discuss the events of last eve more privately.”

Maggie looked up and down the empty hall. “More private than alone in a hallway?” Or did he mean private, private —her face warmed—like a bedroom?

“Walls have ears,” he murmured, leaning in. “I prefer not to discuss my personal business where other guests might overhear. Squirrels and birds, I have found, do not repeat what they should not.”

Right. Outside, where there weren’t dark libraries with convenient nooks perfectly sized for two bodies tight together, or bedrooms with king-size, four-poster beds and silk sheets.

Much safer. She should stop jumping to conclusions.

“Good to know, because I have questions, too. Tons. Not only about last night but also this morning.”

His expression sobered, and he nodded. “As well you should.”

The dining room was mostly deserted when they arrived, a few stragglers she recognized from the butt-crack-of-dawn ceremony at the horror-movie well.

Caedmon sat at one table, alone, as if waiting for them.

He wore his usual rich-bachelor veneer, smoothed hair, button-down Oxford, slacks, and loafers, all traces of the scary ritual vanished. He stood at their approach.

“Hello, little sparrow. I always believed birds loved to rouse at dawn, but after this morning, I realize I’m mistaken.” He winked and pulled out the chair next to him.

Scowling, Kellen pushed his brother aside and held the seat out for her. In the rest of the world, chivalry seemed to have mostly died out with the rise of feminism and equal rights. In Ravenwood, it was alive and well. She kinda liked it.

“This particular bird doesn’t do early mornings unless overbearing hosts of competitions demand it.” She slipped into the waiting chair. “Right now, she only cares about coffee.” She smiled over her shoulder as Kellen pushed her toward the table. “Thank you.”

He leaned close, and his breath warmed her ear. “My pleasure, leannán .”

Heat tendrilled down her neck, all the way to her toes, and didn’t go anywhere when he sat beside her, near enough his sweater brushed hers.

Caedmon looked between them, a smirk on his handsome face.

“You should spend more time with my brother. I’ve never seen him so gallant.

” The smirk widened to a full smile at Kellen’s low growl.

He handed her a coffee mug and pushed a plate in front of her.

Bacon, eggs, and toast, her favorite full-meal-deal breakfast. “Jeeves was expecting you.”

“Of course he was.” She grabbed a fork. “A butler like Jeeves must cost a fortune.”

“Just a soul or two.” Caedmon lowered his voice, his black eyes glittering exactly like Kellen’s did sometimes. “And he’s completely worth it.”

Cara strolled into the dining hall, head high, looking like the victorious ritual princess she was. She waggled her fingers at Maggie in greeting, and Maggie lifted her bacon in salute. Both Ravenwood brothers stood at Cara’s approach to their table.

“Kellen, I’m so glad to find you.” Cara took the empty seat next to Kellen, making the act of sitting look like a ballet move, and the men followed suit.

“I wanted to thank you again for last night, for coming to my rescue.” She leaned into him and rested her slender hand with pristine pink fingernails on his forearm.

“I still don’t understand how I was so out of sorts. ”

Kellen glared at her hand on him.

“Wrong brother, my sweet.” Caedmon took a sip of his mimosa and arched an eyebrow at Cara. “And you’re welcome. I’m always at the ready for beautiful damsels in distress.”

Maggie had to hide her face in her coffee mug to keep from giving anything away. She’d always thought it would be fun to have a twin, to switch places and play pranks. It seemed Kellen and Caedmon were no exception.

Cara blinked. “But I thought—”

“Our similarities are disturbingly striking, aren’t they?” Caedmon winked and flashed a brilliant smile.

Her gaze switched between the twins, studying each of them in turn. “I’m quite certain my savior had facial hair.”

“It was dark,” Caedmon said with a shrug. “And my five o’clock shadow at midnight is closer to a beard than any pathetic goatee. I have no problem with patches, not like my brother.” He smirked at his twin and rubbed his clean-shaven jaw.

Kellen pulled his arm away from Cara’s hand and proceeded to eat his omelet in silence.

Maggie nearly choked on her toast. He was making it abundantly clear to her that he had not even the slightest interest in another woman.

His appeal shot through the roof, and he wasn’t even trying to seduce her.

How was she supposed to resist him with only determination and vows to herself that eroded each day at Ravenwood?

“Glad you’re okay, Cara,” Maggie said. “And congrats again on being the only one to keep your candle lit this morning. The Fates must love you.” Feeling anything but happiness at Cara’s sunshine-bright smile was impossible.

She sure as hell hoped Cara won the boon to help her ill grandmother.

“I didn’t have a chance to ask you earlier with all the horror-movie fun and festivities, but did you find the book you wanted last night? ”

“My mind is still fuzzy, but I don’t think so.” Her brown eyes sharpened, and she leaned forward. “Did you find a random key among the tomes?”

The Ravenwoods exchanged a look. Before Maggie could answer, Caedmon set his napkin on the table and stood.

“Allow me to make it up to you, Miss Farley. Tonight is our tribute to the wild hunt.” He stretched his hand out to her. “As you alone kept your candle aglow this morning, would you care to be my queen for the evening?”

“I’d be honored.” By the sparkle in Cara’s eyes, one would think she’d struck oil. Hell, maybe she had. If anyone had a shot at charming Caedmon into a boon, a wish come true, it was Cara. She took his hand and stood.

“What book did you seek?” Caedmon tucked her close, her arm looped through his. “Whatever the subject, I’ll send the entire section to your room. We have no need of a librarian as every tome, big and small, is organized in here.” He tapped his temple as the pair strolled away.

“Lies,” Kellen muttered under his breath. “He loathes reading.”

“You two are devious,” Maggie said, impressed.

“We protect each other. Always.” Kellen met her gaze, and his dark eyes gleamed with heat. “I did not like her touching me.”

“Technically, she touched your sweater.” She lifted her cup his way. “You’re safe from Cara cooties.”

He leaned near er, unsmiling. “You may touch me without fear, whenever and wherever you wish.”