Page 30 of Savage Blooms (Unearthly Delights #1)

He seemed to be under the impression that they had all the time in the world, that the honeyed languor of long days at Craigmar would never end, which sparked her anger.

They were only supposed to be here for a week; that was what they had agreed upon together.

She understood that perhaps his entire identity had changed overnight, and his priorities along with it, but she was still here with him, and she had every intention of sticking to their plan.

“I’m worried there isn’t, actually. Listen to me, Adam.

” Nicola sat down on the edge of his bed, the way she had done so many times before while pregaming with vodka crans before a night out, or while typing out literary analyses as Adam ate hot honey peanuts and designed websites.

Only now there was no party to prep for, no final exam to conquer.

It was only her and Adam and this place with its heavy presence bearing down all around them.

“I’m worried about you. This doesn’t feel right. ”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to say something that might seem out there, but just go with me, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, not sounding entirely convinced.

“We can agree that there’s something special about this place, can’t we? That it plays by a different set of rules. Old rules, governed by what Eileen calls magic.”

“Right,” Adam said.

“I’m not going to pretend like I understand all those rules, but I know a few of them. The iron jewelry, turning my sweater inside out—”

“And you knew what to do with the milk at the cave, yeah,” Adam said, encouraging her on.

“Right,” Nicola said. Maybe she could get through to him.

Maybe there was still time to pull him back from whatever precipice he was teetering on.

“Those rules are preserved in folk traditions, and those traditions are preserved in stories. It’s not perfect; lots of things get lost and lots of things get fabricated, but we can still use them as a sort of… road map to navigate weird situations.”

“You’re talking about faery tales?” Adam said, arching a skeptical eyebrow as he took a long swallow from the glass of water by his bed.

“I’m talking about ancestral memory,” Nicola said, firmer.

She did her best to tamp down her growing frustration, knowing from experience that blowing up at him would only bring conversation to a standstill.

“Listen, I’m going to get right to it. Lots of stories are about a hero leaving home to go on a quest, but fewer are about someone returning.

In those returning stories, home usually isn’t what it seems, and sometimes it’s an illusion. A temptation. Do you get it?”

Adam blinked at her, brows furrowed. Nicola wanted to pull her hair out, but somehow she soldiered on, picking up the pace.

“It’s a trick, Adam. The castle outfitted with a feast to welcome the hero home is always a trick. It’s everywhere, if you just look. Galahad at the castle of maidens, or Gawain at Hautdesert, or Odysseus on the island of—”

“Nikki, you’re going too fast,” Adam said, reaching out for her. Nicola kept her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. She didn’t want him to touch her right now. She wanted him to listen. “You’re being really academic for first thing in the morning.”

“I’m not being academic, I’m being serious,” she snapped. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“I guess so,” Adam said, tossing his hands in the air as though he was completely hopeless, like he was some bumbling husband in a sitcom and she was his longsuffering wife.

Nicola wanted to strangle him with those expensive, cream-colored sheets.

“Don’t you think it’s a little weird that a week ago Eileen had no idea who you were and now she’s rearranged her entire life so that you can be at the center? And don’t you think it’s weird that your grandfather’s picture has been on her wall her whole life and she’s never noticed?”

She heard the bitterness in her voice, and she saw the way it stung in the slight narrowing of Adam’s eyes, but she didn’t care. Sometimes, being right was more important than being nice.

“Eileen has been through a lot, and she’s been super generous. She’s put us up here for free and cooked for us and she even offered to buy our plane tickets home. I don’t think it’s fair for you to—”

“What if Eileen isn’t the princess locked in the tower waiting for you to save her?” Nicola said, voice nearly breaking. She feared that if Adam wasn’t willing to entertain this notion, at least, then he was truly lost to whatever spell Craigmar was weaving. “What if she’s the wicked witch?”

“That’s a mean thing to say,” Adam said flatly.

Nicola deflated like a Valentine’s Day balloon forgotten in the back of the florist shop.

They sat in silence for a moment, Nicola scowling down at her hands and blinking back tears, Adam propped up awkwardly in bed as he chewed on his lip. Then, just as Nicola was considering storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her, Adam spoke.

“This isn’t a story,” Adam said slowly, like she was a fool, like she was a child. “It’s real life. It’s okay if you feel jealous. I know family stuff is hard for you. I think last night probably just opened up some old wounds.”

This was why Nicola had never dated Adam Lancaster. He acted like such a rationalist when it came to other people, but when it came to the whims of his own heart, he always did whatever he felt like.

“That’s really patronizing,” she said, voice small. The tears stung like hot coals at the corner of her eyes. Another minute of this and she would break, but she refused to let him see her cry.

“I don’t even know what you’re accusing her of, except giving you bad vibes,” Adam said, and now he was the frustrated one.

He threw back the sheets and stood, yanking a long-sleeved T-shirt on over his sweatpants.

“You’re not the only one who has damage about their family.

Can you please just let me have this and enjoy it for one day before you start poking holes in a good thing? ”

Nicola’s blood turned to ice in her veins.

She had a handful of theories about what Eileen might be up to, none of which ended well for Adam, but at that moment, she couldn’t care less what happened to him.

“Fine,” she said, standing to go. “It was stupid of me to come here, anyway. Enjoy being the chosen one, or whatever the fuck. I’m going for a walk.”

“Nikki,” Adam said with an exasperated sigh. She thought, in her extravagant rage, that she would like to cut out his tongue the next time he called her that. “Don’t. It’s freezing out.”

“Good,” she said. “Maybe I’ll die out there and you and Eileen can celebrate by fucking at my funeral.”

Nicola slammed the door behind her, hard enough to rattle the doorframes, and strode down the halls. Hot tears streamed down her face as she choked back a sob, her fists bundled up tight at her sides.

Let Adam figure it out himself, she decided.

If he suffered in the process, so be it.