"Can we get out?" alfie shouted, gesturing up at the shrieking speakers. She concurred, and followed behind him and finley from the crowded bar, swallowing half of her drink in one gulp.
I need to go. I need to go. The thought was a cry of desperation in her mind, battling against the liquor-filled temptation of the two alphas.
"I bought it for you," finley said. She saw that he was holding a wreath of roses – and the roses were changing color, running through all the colors of the rainbow. He put the wreath on her head, and mock bowed before her.
"Milady," he said.
She stifled a laugh.
"Thank you, your royal highness," she said.
She wasn't going.
"I did not leave the best first impression, and I apologize," alfie said. "Can you ever forgive me, and we can start anew?"
"If you could forgive me for freaking out and fleeing like a crazy person," she answered.
"Crazy is my favorite. Crazy makes life interesting." He grinned so appealingly, so sensually, and he gazed at her as if she was the only woman on earth. "Come join us. We were headed over to the feast tables. Hungry?"
Aunt Leilani could have been famished, but not to this degree. Feast tables sounded so much more appetizing than the granola bars she'd stuffed into her backpack.
"Okay," she said, and let them lead the way.
They walked along, Finley's brow furrowing. He slowed, cocking his head, as though he had heard something above the festival's joyful din. "Did you feel that?" he whispered to Alfie, his voice barely audible.
Alfie's friendly smile began to twist. "Yeah. A ripple. Something unfamiliar. Too close to the festival grounds for my liking." His gaze swept the crowd of people, a flash of watchful predator in his caramel-colored eyes. He discreetly sniffed the air. "Not a pack smell I know.".
Esme felt a strange buzzing, a subtle vibration of the air around her that she had never noticed before. It seemed to emanate from her, or perhaps, from the space between her and the two brothers.
After walking for a few minutes through winding paths, they came to a huge open area with hundreds of long banquet tables. There was a picnic chair and table section close by, and there were men and women sitting in clusters on picnic blankets on the grass.
Finley made his way to a banquet table that had meat pies and trays of cold meats and cheese and wedges of fat bread. There were stacks of plate and containers of silverware on either end of the table.
Curiously, the air near the tables had steam appearing to rise from it. There was a man at the head of each table who she was sure was probably a Mage. When she approached a table to refill a plate, she found that the air around the table was as cold as frost.
The mages were using their magic to cool the food on the tables, she deduced.
They loaded their plates and sat cross legged on the lawn under a huge oak tree. Esme set about her food with gusto. Normally, she was self conscious of having food out in front of boys, but with alfie and finley, she just felt completely relaxed. She felt as though they'd never say anything bad about her.
Have a bite of mine," alfie said, holding out his fork. He cupped the side of her face in his palm as she leaned in and swallowed a mouthful of shepherd's pie he was feeding her. The heat of his hand warmed her blood and made a rush of lust surge through her body. She felt her nipples swell into hard buds beneath her shirt, and she bit down on her lip and fought back a low moan.
"I want you to know that we both really like you. A lot," alfie told her.
"You just met me," she grumbled. She tried to look away, but his honey-brown eyes trapped hers. "I could be a horrible person. Or, um, dull. Or dumb. Or awful in bed." Then she blushed; they hadn't asked her to sleep with her, so why was she bringing this up?
"But you're not any of those things," finley said, his eyes tracing the subtle, almost imperceptible shimmer around her. He frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. This wasn't just a human woman. There was an aura, a resonance to her that felt… ancient. Powerful.
"You're so sure, are you?"
Well, I think we should examine some things on that list a bit more," He gave her a wicked grin, and she knew exactly what he was referring to.
"I'm going to eat now," she grumbled, attacking her plate and not looking up at them.
"Finley, will you fetch the pretty lady some dessert?" alfie asked. His gaze turned icy when another alpha, a broad-shouldered one from the skye claws' pack, stood too long, his eyes openly gazing at Esme. A low, gravelly growl coursed through Alfie's frame, a feral warning. Esme could feel the tension coming from him, the possessiveness that excited and scared her.
She stepped back slightly, a fear of losing control, of being consumed, striking her unexpectedly.
"With pleasure." There was something about the way that he said the word "pleasure" that made her shiver.
She struggled to cling on to the last scraps of her willpower. I'm a professional. An academic. I'm here to study. This is very unprofessional of me. Dear God, they're so ridiculously sexy they should come with a warning label.
Finley returned, and he was holding a plate that was full of small little cakes and cream puffs and strawberries.
"Oh, my, you are the devil." She let out a small little moan of pleasure and extended her hand and took it, and he pulled it back from her hand.
"This has to be eaten secretly. In our cabin."
"Uh.really? Is this some kind of festival tradition or something?"
Finley and alfie exchanged glances.
"Yes," finley said nodding vigorously. His hand, as he reached for hers, felt a sudden, profound connection, a jolt of energy that was far too strong, too fast for a normal bond. This shouldn't be possible. Unless. you're the shard. The thought hit him like a physical blow, a revelation that both thrilled and terrified him.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't believe your honesty. However, I should like some of those cakes. Maybe all of them."
"I'll get started," finley stated, and alfie propped her up on her feet.
Good lord, I'm really doing this, she thought as she followed them. The cabins were about ten minutes walk. They were rustic looking, the grass neatly mowed, with a wooden sign hanging in front of each cabin with a number on it.
"They're not that far apart from each other," she observed.
"But, soundproof," alfie grinned at her.
They walked in and shut the door behind them.
She glanced around them nervously.
The cabin was a single bedroom, with a small kitchen area and a lounge room. High up on the wall was a massive screen tv. In the opposite part of the room from it was a fireplace, in front of which was a bearskin rug.