Chapter 460: Confessions
Chapter 460: Confessions
Ella
Calvin nods to me, just once, and then stands, moving his hand from mine and going to speak to the waiter, nodding towards the terrace. As he does I turn to Conner, who raises his eyebrows at me. I know he heard, and now he’s asking if that’s what I really want.
I hesitate, but then I nod and he does as well, putting his phone back into the pocket.
Calvin’s at my side then, gesturing towards the terrace, and as I move with him I hear Conner walking up behind me. As we step outside, Conner moves to take a seat at the table we just vacated so that he can keep his eyes on me with this change of venue.
I send him a little smile, and Conner gives me a wink, as Calvin and I step out into the fresh night air.
“Your man,” Calvin says, leaning against the balustrade and glancing in at Conner before smiling at me. “He keeps a close eye on you.”
“Conner is a friend,” I say, smiling at the waiter who comes and brings us two cocktails. “As well as one hell of a fighter. He’ll kick your ass if you try anything.”
Calvin laughs at this, shaking his head. “Well then he’s going to have a boring night,” he murmurs with a bit of a sigh. “You’re safe with me. Not that your mate the King hasn’t already made his own assurances.”
“What?” I ask, pausing with the drink on the way to my lips.
Calvin nods over the balustrade down to the street. “Six men,” he says, “on the street and in front of the restaurant.” Then he takes a moment to turn and peer upwards. “Probably more on the roof.”
“Really?” I ask, turning and peering up, though I can’t see anything. “A bit of overkill,” I murmur, scowling a little. Sinclair so overprotective. Somehow, instinctually, I know that Calvin has no ill intentions towards me honestly, I knew he was my friend before, but tonight really solidifies it for me.
But Sinclair? Well. I suppose he doesn’t know it the way I do.
“Nah, it’s not overkill,” Calvin says, sipping his drink and smiling at me. ” With you as his Queen? I get it.”
I smile at the compliment, but I also narrow my eyes a little. Because that? That was…a little closer to hitting on me than he’s ventured all night.
“And what about you,” I say, a little tart, because if he wants to talk about Sinclair then I’m definitely bringing up his wife. “How many guards did you leave at home with the mother of your children?”
“Oh, thousands,” he says with a casual sigh that makes me laugh. But when he grins at me I realize that he’s serious.
“Thousands!?”
He laughs a little. “She lives in the palace,” he says with a shrug, “with my entire extended family. She is…very well protected there.”
“What’s her name?” I ask, my voice soft.
“Margaret,” he replies, looking out over the streets, his voice flat like he’s simply reporting facts.
Noting by his body language that he very much does not want to talk about this, I change the subject, looking down at my drink. “And what is this?” I ask.
“It’s called Spirenbreau,” he says, nodding towards it. “I had it brought from Atalaxia to share with those I hoped would be my new friends. It’s a traditional summer drink. Try it,” he says, giving a little shrug. “I think you’ll like it.”
And so I take a little sip, pleasantly surprised at the rich taste and the crisp little bite of the chilled liquor. It tastes like melons.
“I do like it,” I say, smiling at him and placing the drink down on the stone balustrade against which he leans. Then I lean on it too, staring at him as a quiet minute passes between us.
“Calvin,” I say quietly, leaning closer towards him, gazing at him seriously.
The smile drops from his face a little, his expression matching mine. “Why won’t you tell me about your wife?”
He drops his eyes then, looking down at the drink in his hand and I think taking a breath. “I’ll tell you all you want to know about her, Ella,” he murmurs.
“But why do I have to ask?”
He lifts his eyes to mine then and something…something passes between us, even without us touching. Almost unconsciously, he takes a step closer to me.
“I don’t want to speak about her with you,” he murmurs as I stare up into his face, into those violet eyes.
I nod a little, grateful for his honesty but… “Why?” I ask, my voice breathy, a little stunned. Because this man stunning, his entire presence consuming. And something about him – it draws me.
“Because,” he replies, a little growl in his voice now. “It is not right, Ella. Not with…not with you.”
“Why?” I ask again, pushing, shaking my head and not understanding. Because…
“Do you seriously not know?” he murmurs, staring down into my face, I swear a little angry now. “Because if you’re just toying with me, Ella, making me say it when we both know –
“What are you talking about?” I say, flinching back a little.
He blinks at me, surprised, and then he leans forward, closing the distance I created in moving back. We’re not touching, no part of us
But the air between us, I swear it glows.
My eyes widen as energy crackles in the air, like static electricity, or tiny bits of lightening. “What…what is this?” I ask, my voice starting to tremble a little in fear.
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, shaking his head, though his eyes don’t leave my face. “It has never nothing like this has ever happened to me before and I’ve never heard of it – ”
“Heard of what?” I ask, begging now, a little scared.
“Ella,” he says, his voice earnest, and he reaches out a hand to wrap around my arm and I gasp, because even though he doesn’t even touch my skin, this thing between us it intensifies.
I feels – god, it feels like a spark in my soul, like a thousand tiny flares of light
But I don’t have any time to explore it, because Calvin presses forward, his eyes on mine. “She’s not my mate, Ella,” he says all in a rush. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.
“What?” I ask, confused overwhelmed
“My wife,” he says, shaking his head at me. “Our marriage – it was arranged, expected. We didn’t even have a mating ceremony because we’re not even chosen mates – she was selected for me, so we could have strong children -”
I shake my head, a little horrified at the idea. And then something within me makes me reconsider my judgment, because honestly didn’t I do something similar the day when I selected my human sperm donor? I, too, picked someone because I thought they would give me a happy, healthy baby
But I mean, I didn’t marry them-
I shake my head, seeking to clear it as Calvin takes another step towards me so that there’s just a breath of space between us now. I tilt my head to look up at him, frightened and fascinated.
“She’s – she’s not your mate?” I ask, my voice choked.
“No, Ella,” he says, raising a hand to cup my cheek. He hesitates before he places it there, but then he gives in almost as if he can’t help himself. And I gasp a little at the surge of something of power, perhaps? – that passes through me.
“Then -” I whisper, my whole body starting to tremble with the force of it of whatever this is.
“Ella,” Calvin says softly, almost an apology, because he knows that this could wreck both of our lives, “I think you are my mate.”