Page 67 of Whispers of Wisteria (The Garden of Eternal Flowers #5)

Bianca POV

I was under house arrest until Julian was sure I wouldn’t drop dead.

That moment came a few days later, when Detective Kohler arrived and gave the all-clear. Still, it was taking me longer than usual to recover physically, and there was a lingering numbness in my thoughts that wouldn’t go away.

Eventually, though, I migrated from my bedroom to the living room. Yet, it was still equally unstimulating.

Then one evening, something changed.

I was sitting by myself, a mindless show playing on the baking channel, when Bryce and Uncle Gregory walked past the doorway.

They’d been meeting privately, but now they paused when they saw me. My shoulders tightened as Bryce’s gaze dipped to the rabbit clutched against my chest.

He’d already made fun of it enough. I’d kill him if—

“What are you watching?” he asked instead.

I glanced at the TV, where a giant rainbow cake tower collapsed in slow motion and the contestant burst into tears. “Nothing important.”

“Well, I’ll put something on.” Bryce stepped past me and grabbed the remote. He was holding a familiar daisy-patterned paper cup, and I looked at the frothy drink.

“Where did you get that?”

Bryce looked at me curiously. “The coffee machine in the kitchen.”

I pursed my lips.

So that’s the reason my caramel syrup had been running low. That was my coffee setup! It’d been one of the few things I’d allowed Titus to purchase for me. He’d said it was okay, since it was technically a food item and didn’t count as a gift.

How long had Bryce been raiding my spot?

Uncle Gregory sat in an armchair, a similar drink in hand, while in the other he carried the newspaper.

“We’ll watch this,” Bryce said, turning to a station I’d never bothered with before. “It’s Brayden’s favorite show.”

What was—

The title ‘Wild Oaths: An enchanting fae reality show with the perfect blend of romance and entertainment’ appeared on screen in sparkling gold letters over a woodsy background.

“Is that really the whole title?” I asked. I kind of liked it—so practical and informative.

“What’s wrong with it?” Bryce asked.

“Nothing.” I nodded.

No one spoke at first, not even when Miles wandered in halfway through the episode. Bryce kept grinning in a way that showed off the pointy edges of his teeth, and Uncle Gregory basically ignored us to read the paper.

Miles, however, had a lot to say.

The muscle-bound male lead had just given the heroine a lock of his honey-blond hair after they’d survived the Trial of the Fire Ring, and Miles was lecturing that no one should treat nearly burning alive like a marriage proposal, when Titus walked into the room.

He stopped in front of me and dropped a red dress in my lap. His attention flickered to the rabbit in my arms, and his jaw clenched, before he said, “We’re going out to dinner.”

“What?” Miles stood, indignant for a different reason now. “But I made a beef bourguignon!”

“That’s fine.” Titus didn’t look at him. “We’re going to have French food.”

Miles glared at him. “That is French food!”

Titus didn’t answer him.

“Um…” I was allowed to go out? I looked at Uncle Gregory and Bryce.

Uncle Gregory met my eyes, then glanced at Titus. After a pause, he returned to the newspaper.

“Don’t pick a fight at the restaurant,” he said.

“What?” Bryce straightened in his seat. “You tore into me for—”

“It would be suicidal for anyone to try anything around a newly mated dragon,” Uncle Gregory said. “Especially as he’s stopped playing games. She’ll be safe.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied, pulling at my sleeve. “I guess I can…”

“Put that on,” Titus said. “And let’s go. I have reservations.”

The restaurant was heavy with warm colors, crystal chandeliers, candlelight, and skylights primed to show off the starlight. Someone met us at the entrance, and we were shown to a private room with a small round table. On the other side of the room, French doors lead to a balcony.

Titus held out my seat. I sat and rubbed a black ribbon from my dress between my fingertips as he moved to his side.

He was quiet. We hadn’t been alone together since… everything. Was he actually mad like Maria had said he’d be?

He picked up his water and finished it in two giant gulps.

He was definitely mad.

“I’m not mad,” he said, lowering his glass. “I’m furious. And we can’t avoid talking about it anymore.”

Oh no.

My fingers curled around the edge of my seat and air caught in my throat. I knew this would happen, but… I didn’t care.

I’d do it again too.

Titus scowled.

I jumped as our tuxedo-clad waiter suddenly appeared, introducing himself. But I hardly heard his speech about wine pairings and specials over the buzzing in my ears.

Was he a necromancer, maybe?

My attention moved from him to the entrance of the private room. Where the heck did he come from anyway?

Did all necromancers move like ninjas?

The waiter left.

Titus gently pressed his foot over mine and I looked at him. His expression was softer when he said, “You didn’t hear him.”

It wasn’t a question.

My face burned and I stared at the bowl of fancy bread on our table. “I—” My voice was smaller than I liked, but it’d been that way since I’d gotten back.

“It’s fine,” I told him. “I’d—I’d normally be okay. But—but I’m having a hard time…” I touched my head, still dizzy. “I can’t f-focus right now.”

He pushed my foot again and when I glanced up, he said, “Look at me.”

I did, and he held my gaze.

“You don’t feel safe,” he said finally.

My face burned. “I’m not afraid of you.” I was quick to reassure him. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

“I know,” Titus replied. The tight feeling in my chest began to loosen, and he added, “But even with me here, you still don’t feel safe. You’re constantly scanning your environment for threats. Is it because we were taken together?”

“Oh,” I began. That.

“No.” I squirmed. “Maria told me a-about your game. I know it—it was on purpose… at first. This is…” I took a deep breath. “This is normal.”

“Normal,” he repeated evenly, bracing his arms on the table. He linked his fingers under his chin. “There’s no fear in your scent.”

“You need to pretend. You—you can’t let them smell it,” I explained. “Then they’ll know.”

He looked at me, silent.

“You guys w-watch everything too,” I pointed out.

“Yes,” Titus agreed, tilting his head. “But we also don’t think we’re prey.”

The word hit harder than I expected.

“I…” I started. It felt like I was suffocating. “I don’t mean to. I’m—I’m sorry.”

“You don’t apologize for that,” Titus said, voice sharper. His eyes burned. “Ever.”

This time I saw the waiter appear in the doorway. Still, when he looked at me, asking for my order, I flustered.

“I—” I hadn’t even looked at the menu. I wouldn’t know what to choose anyway. I didn’t care—as long as it wasn’t fish. “I guess…”

Pick something! I glanced down.

There weren’t even any pictures! I didn’t have time to translate all this.

“She’ll have lamb,” Titus interrupted.

My heart began to calm. Normally I’d be offended that he’d presume—

But, right now, I was thankful.

“I’ll have the same.” He handed the menus to the waiter.

Titus waited until we were alone before he spoke again. “You don’t need to pretend,” he said. “Not with me.”

“I know…”

“Then stop doing this,” he said. “You have no idea how we see you.”

I clenched my teeth, bracing myself.

“Princess, you’re everything.” Titus reached across the table and grabbed my hand. “You’re not prey, and you’re not replaceable.”

A heat began to spread across the back of my neck. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

“You will never put yourself at risk for me again,” Titus continued.

I blinked as my vision blurred.

I… I couldn’t promise that. I couldn’t stand by while others got hurt. I might not be strong, but maybe I could do something.

Titus’s expression fell and he ran his fingers through his hair. “Can you at least promise that you’ll try to be careful?” he asked. “And don’t hide the important things from me.”

“But…” I began, faltering as I put my finger to my lip.

How would I know what he thought was important? We all had different priorities.

“Everything is important,” he said.

Surely not. For example, there was no need for him to know about my plans to make money, or about Ernesto Lucciano, whom I was probably going to text next week. I’d given the almost-gang-leader enough time to be intrigued, but now it was time to talk business.

Titus sighed. “I’m beginning to think we have different definitions of the word ‘important’.”

Most likely so.

For example, the case they’d all been whispering about when they thought I wasn’t looking. They had no idea what Jason could do. If it were really all that important to them, they’d stop trying to keep things from me.

It was really annoying.

“You’ve always avoided talking about it.” Titus frowned. “And you don’t like being interviewed. Plus, you reacted badly when you heard his name.”

“About Jason. I…” I swallowed and looked away. “I was s-surprised. But…” I clenched my fists in my lap. “I guess I shouldn’t have been.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’m—” My breath faltered. “It doesn’t matter about me. But…” My shoulders were shaking and I pushed my hands against my thighs to make it stop. “I don’t want him to hurt anyone else. I was able to show you the house, then… maybe I—I can help you find him. I—I know how he thinks.”

“You’re afraid of him,” Titus pointed out.

My stomach turned. I grabbed the water and drank it before setting the glass down harder than I meant to.

Yes, I was afraid of him. I hated that I was. But also—

It wasn’t just that.

“I loathe him.” I could barely control my voice. There was a hot swelling in my chest. He hurt people… and liked it. He needed to be gone.

“I will kill him,” I said, pushing my shaking hands in my lap. “I don’t care that he’s stronger than me. I’ll find a way.”

I would see his stupid face dead. Our relationship could only be severed by death—preferably his. If he knew where I was, he would most definitely come for me, but I’d be ready.