Page 21 of Shift of Morals (Shifter Lords #2)

Chapter

Thirteen

A few days passed. Hazel continued working on the bouquet, and I occasionally caught her muttering obscenities to herself from the walk-in.

She seemed fine without my help, so I left her to it and busied myself with the sample bouquets for Caelan’s nuptials.

When I’d finished all of them, I messaged Simone, who responded almost immediately with a request for a meeting the same evening at the Keep.

But this time, Moira was not invited. Odd, but if she wanted to come, I’d bring her with me anyway.

When I tried to refuse, Simone kept kicking back my refusals by changing the time in fifteen-minute increments until I got so annoyed I accepted the damn invite.

Three hours later, another decorated black box showed up at the shop, delivered by a quiet man wearing a sharp suit who said nothing and held out a clipboard for my signature.

I stared at it as if it were a snake. “What happens if I refuse delivery?”

The man’s flat stare was so quelling, I almost screamed in frustration. “Fine,” I snarled, scratching an angry signature on the paper and shoving the clipboard back at him.

He spun on his heel and left the shop, leaving the box against the side of the couch.

Moira came out from the back and gasped. “Dammit. Another one?” She looked around, and when she realized there was only one delivery, her lower lip jutted out. “I’m just the stepchild to your Lord. How disappointing.”

“You can wear mine if you’d like.”

Moira laughed. “I do not have a death wish. That one is all you.” She jerked a thumb at it. “Open it up and let me see.”

“Later.” My gaze went to the double doors leading to the back.

“Ah,” Moira lowered her voice. “Scared of mom’s disapproval.”

I snorted. “We’ve gotta get this box out of here before Hazel senses it.”

Tess drifted over. “Want me to take it to your house?”

I sagged with relief. “Please. And take a longer lunch break since you’re doing this for me.”

Tess smiled and snatched the box before hurrying out, her purse and keys in her hand.

“She was already going somewhere, wasn’t she?” I muttered.

Moira snorted. “Ash already snuck out about ten minutes ago.”

I glanced at her, realization dawning. “Ack. Gross.”

“Let’s just hope she drops the dress off first.”

“Moira! Eww.” I loved both of them, but thinking about them making the beast with two backs was enough to make me want to stab my eyes out with spoons.

The vampire laughed and went behind the register. “Business is still slow. Think we should do some paid marketing?”

“No. I haven’t announced our involvement in the Lord’s wedding yet. Once we do, we won’t be able to keep our heads above water for a while.”

Moira’s glance was curious. “And why haven’t we announced it?”

“Because we might all get fired,” I muttered. “If Caelan keeps sending me dresses, I’m afraid Gianna is going to booby-trap my car.”

“True, but I’d guess she values her pretty hide, too.”

“Depends on how badly she wants to murder me. She seems to have a strong sense of self-preservation, so let’s hope she keeps to the occasional verbal riposte and away from explosive material.”

“Hope is a fickle thing,” Moira said with a twinkle in her eye.

“You’re not going to laugh at my funeral when all that’s left of me gets put into a tiny box.”

“As long as the box is pretty,” Moira said, laughing when I flipped her off.

Later that evening, when Hazel was out communing with the land or whatever weird Scottish witches did, I flipped open Caelan’s box. My breath caught in my throat. A vivid amethyst-colored satin dress lay nestled in creamy tissue paper.

“Dammit,” I muttered. How did he have such great taste?

Raised golden vines decorated the skirt, mid-length this time, magic humming against my fingers as I brushed over them. The bodice was etched with the same vine motif.

But to make it worse, a small box lay to the side, the same size jewelry came in. My hand trembled as I reached for it, hesitating over the top.

An envelope lay above it, so I reached for the parchment note first.

In case the first didn’t suit the florist’s taste.

A smile tugged at my lips. I reached for the small box, carefully tugging the lid off.

A pair of rose-cut, flawless amethysts in the shape of flowers winked up at me. “Caelan,” I breathed.

I dug my cell phone out of my pocket.

I can’t accept these.

Can’t or won’t, came his response .

This is too much. And inappropriate.

I have an ungodly amount of money.

I’d forgotten how terribly humble you are.

Amethyst is a cheap stone.

So you have an ungodly amount of money, but you’re cheap?

I didn’t say those particular amethysts are cheap.

Gianna will notice.

I don’t care.

You should care.

Wear the dress. With the earrings.

No.

Please.

I didn’t respond again, a heavy breath escaping me as I put the lid back on the box.

Caelan never said please. And they were gorgeous. Amethyst was one of my favorite stones.

“Evie. Shut up,” I muttered to myself.

I lifted the dress up and hung it carefully, unable to stop myself from running my fingers over the exquisite, magical embroidery.

I picked my cell up again.

Who’s making these dresses?

Wear the earrings and I’ll tell you.

I snorted.

I’ll ask Simone.

I’ve already instructed her not to tell you.

I’ll ask the butler.

I don’t have a butler, but if I did, he wouldn’t tell you either.

Then I’ll instruct Seymour to bite you. Repeatedly.

Don’t threaten me with a good time, Evie.

I laughed out loud.

If I promise to wear the earrings, do you promise to tell me who made the dress?

As long as you wear the dress, too.

Dammit, Caelan. I’m not yours to dress up.

My two months aren’t up yet.

I did not respond again, his words clanging inside my head like a bell.

Moira had elected to stay behind because Soren wouldn’t be at the Keep. I thought about begging her to go, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

After downing the soup Hazel had left on the stove, I got into my car and drove to the Keep.

Once I valeted and someone who was not the butler let me in, Simone greeted me and walked me to the same place as before, staying silent the entire time.

She looked more strained than the last time I’d seen her, and before we went in, I touched her elbow.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

“Be careful, Evie,” was all she said, her gaze snagging on the amethysts in my ears. She shook her head and stepped behind me.

The doors opened, and a scene that looked straight out of a Christmas movie greeted me. There was red and white everywhere, and just as I felt my face tugging into an expression of horror, I caught myself and slapped an inane smile on my face.

“You’ve redecorated,” I said.

Gianna stood at the same table as before, dressed in red this time, and I had an image of a mall elf sitting poor, hapless children on a drunk Santa’s lap during the holidays. An almost hysterical giggle got trapped in my throat, and I coughed to try to get it out.

Rowan, my favorite Lord, stood at the table behind Gianna, grinning like a lunatic.

My lips twitched, just as my gaze snagged on the Shifter Lord.

All the breath was sucked out of my lungs.

He wore another suit, this time a cool dove grey.

My boutonniere was attached to his lapel, fresh as the day I gave it to him.

I had another in my bag I’d made for him earlier, but I hadn’t decided yet if I should give it to him.

This felt like the strangest case of madness.

I tore my gaze away to see Gianna staring at me, her eyes flickering a strange silver color. “I thought it would be nice to see what the room looked like with the color palette I’d chosen.”

“It’s…festive,” I said lamely.

Rowan coughed.

“Yes,” Gianna agreed. “It is, isn’t it? I had the red modeled after the color of blood. Quite an accurate depiction, isn’t it?”

“My expertise lies in flowers, Gianna. Though I’m sure any decorator you hired would do their best to bring your vision to life.”

Rowan’s eyes widened.

Yes, you asshat. I can be as political as I need to be sometimes, even though I hate it.

Gianna’s eyes narrowed, assuming I was being facetious. Which I was, but none of my words explicitly said so.

“Please,” she said after a moment, “have a seat.”

Rowan came around and took the box from my hands. “You look stunning,” he murmured in my ear.

I gave him a grateful smile. Rowan winked and went back to the table, placing the box in the chair beside mine. I was by myself at the opposite end of the table, and it sort of felt like an inquisition.

“I’ve ordered refreshments and hors d’oeuvres tonight,” Gianna said. “This should be a shorter meeting than last time, I hope.”

Caelan shot her an annoyed look. “Thank you for meeting us this evening, Miss Quinn. I’m sure you have a busy schedule, so taking time away to assist us is always appreciated.”

“As Gianna said, this meeting shouldn’t take as long as the first.”

The woman’s razor-sharp gaze glided down my dress. “Your dress is stunning. My Caelan does have a type, doesn’t he?”

I didn’t visibly react, but I had the sense I was involved in a game where I didn’t understand the rules. “Thank you. I do look good in war paint, if I do say so myself.”

Rowan’s eyes widened, even as Caelan’s glimmered with approval.

The servers came over and filled our glasses with red wine before I could refuse. There was a glass of water beside the plate I could drink instead, though, so I scooted it a little closer.

“Are you not a drinker?” Gianna asked sweetly.

“I consider these meetings on the clock, and I don’t drink during work hours.”

“Oh? Caelan has agreed to pay you extra?” Her eyes flashed with annoyance.

Caelan had already dropped a disturbing amount of money into my bank account, far more than we’d agreed upon. “Based on our discussion last time we were here,” I said.

“Oh. I thought you were joking.” A brittle laugh, then, “Quadruple, really? We will discuss this later, Caelan.”