Chapters (63)
“You are unbelievable.” He must not hold any true affection for me at all if he is so easily put off. “Ronan Reve is a bully, and I want nothing to do with him.” And if no one else speaks up, he will only get worse. Petty princes make petty kings. “Until this moment, I thought you and I might have a chance at a relationship, that perhaps your hesitation was due to shyness.” Turns out, I was a fool all along. “Now I see that you are a coward, Trevor Dillon, and I do not wish to tie myself to someone who isn’t willing to fight for me.”
Yes, I am a strong, independent, capable woman and can fight my own battles, but it does not make me weak to want a partner to stand up and fight by my side.
Trevor’s cheeks flush a deep scarlet. “He threatened to have me removed from the library. I care for you, Kerris, but my job is my life.”
He did what?
That manipulative snake.
I turn on my heel, scouring the crowd for the prince. Ronan Reve is about to get a piece of my mind, and he isn’t going to like what I have to say. So much for enjoying the rest of my night. The moment I finish saying my piece, I’m going straight back to the cottage to stew in my rage.
Nia watches me through wide eyes, and I’m not sure whether she overheard everything, but from the way she scowls at Trevor, I assume she heard enough.
“Where’s Ronan?” I grit out.
“With Nolan over by the fountain. Why?”
“Because I’m going to tell him that he is a no-good, conniving weasel.”
Her hand snaps out, her cool fingers encircling my wrist. “Calm down.”
Ha! As if that’s possible right now with my blood boiling. “He threatened to get Trevor fired from his job if he continued seeing me.” For that, he’s getting a piece of my mind. No, not a piece. The whole bloomin’ pie. I don’t care who his father is, Ronan doesn’t get to treat people like this.
The music comes to an unexpected halt, as if the musicians overheard my plan. Gasps and curses rise from the crowd as I search for Ronan’s golden hair. I feel like ripping it all out, strand by strand until he’s bald as a bloomin’ mole.
Nia’s hands fly to her mouth. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes.” I’m going to kick him in the shin. Both shins. I might even slap him. Let him walk around the festival with my handprint on his no-good face.
Nia points to something behind me. “No, Kerris. Look.”
I whirl, finding Ever sitting atop his black steed. The rest of the Unseelie appear from the shadows, carts of jugs rattling behind them, staring back at us.
30
He’s here.