Chapter Nine: Carys

"At least Varn seems to be surviving the party," Elsbeth sidled up to Carys and linked arms with her. "He is quite the catch from what Neave said. Quite a person of note back on Cairnnor, supposedly."

Carys had been watching ‘the catch' from across the room as he and Flint cooed over baby Koralyn, who Katerina held tenderly in her arms. Flint looked like a man who had discovered the greatest secret in all the world, while Varn acted like most shifters around children. It was as if it was written in their DNA to protect and nurture the young, regardless of species. Even from across the room, Carys could feel the warmth and tenderness radiating from Varn as he gently stroked the baby's cheek with a calloused finger.

She couldn't tear her gaze away from the sight of the big, powerful shifter being so gentle and attentive to the tiny infant. It tugged at something deep inside her, a yearning she had long tried to bury.

"Neave has heard of Varn?" Carys asked absently. Then she tore her gaze from the scene before her and held up her hand to her aunt. "You know what? I don't want to know. I want to get to know Varn for who he is, not what the gossip mongers think he is."

"Are you sure?" Elsbeth raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I have learned that talking to people face to face, learning their story and their reasons for what they did gives a greater insight into them as a person…" She paused. "Sorry, that was the diplomat in me forcing her way to the surface."

"You're right," Elsbeth said. "But you will not learn about him face to face from the opposite side of the room, will you?"

"No, I will not." Carys slipped her arm around her aunt's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and this has all been a dream."

"No worries there," Elsbeth said. "Varn is very real. You know he had a run-in with Liselle and Flint last year…"

"No, I do not." Carys drained her cup of Earl Grey and placed the empty cup and saucer down on the table, which was practically groaning under the weight of the sandwiches and cakes Elsbeth's coven had made for the occasion. All of which were delicious and would not be out of place at the finest of courts and palaces Carys had visited.

But there was also something special about them. Something that reminded her of simpler times with every bite she took, that she could not find in even the finest of cuisine.

"Point taken," Elsbeth said a little sheepishly.

"I didn't mean to be rude," Carys told her aunt. "I just…"

"I know you are not a child. You don't need your aunt clucking over you like an old mother hen." Elsbeth leaned on her niece's shoulder. "It's just that sometimes…"

"Sometimes?" Carys asked. It was unlike her aunt to hold back and not speak her mind, whether her views were wanted or not.

"You are like a second daughter to me," Elsbeth finished.

"And you are like a second mother to me." Carys turned and hugged her aunt tightly as she forced down the lump of emotion that welled in her throat.

It was true, Carys's mother had been away so much when she was growing up that Elsbeth was like a second mother.

The door is always open to you, Elsbeth would say. And Carys loved it here.

There was always some kind of drama. Not of the scale Carys's mother had to deal with. No, there were no wars to prevent… Unless it was baking wars. The ladies of her aunt's coven were very competitive when it came to their culinary creations. But the dramas here in Wishing Moon Bay were of a more personal nature—a lost love, a found love, a secret revealed, a dream realized. The stuff of everyday life, yet no less meaningful than the tension between nations.

As Carys pulled back from her aunt's embrace, her gaze drifted across the room to Varn, who was now deep in conversation with Flint. The two men had an easy rapport, despite their run-in last year that Elsbeth had mentioned.

Carys could only guess that it was something minor and that whatever differences they had then had since been put aside, and that said more about the men's characters than any town gossip.

"Go," Elsbeth whispered in her ear and as she let her niece go, she gave her a small nudge in Varn's direction.

It was time. Carys had been avoiding Varn since they had arrived at her aunt's house. It had been subconscious, a reflexive response born from years of keeping her feelings guarded when in company.

A wrong look, a misread expression, or a misunderstood word could change the course of a dispute in an instant.

But this was home. This was Varn.

This was her future. Her mate.

One fate had chosen especially for her.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down the skirt of the emerald green dress she had changed into when they had come back here after their picnic and made her way across the room. As she approached, Varn and Flint's conversation halted, and two pairs of eyes turned to meet her—one twinkling with mirth, the other smoldering with an intensity that made Carys's heart skip a beat.

"Carys," Flint greeted her warmly. "We were just talking about you."

"All good things, I hope," she replied, her lips curving into a smile as she glanced at Varn. His dark eyes held hers, the depth of emotion in them stealing her breath away.

"The best things, of course," Varn rumbled, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. He reached out and took her hand, his strong fingers enveloping hers. The simple touch ignited a spark that raced through her veins.

Flint looked between them, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "I think I'll go see if Katerina needs any help with the baby." He clapped Varn on the shoulder and nodded at Carys before striding off.

And then it was just the two of them, the sounds of the party fading into the background as Carys lost herself in Varn's intense gaze.

"Hello, stranger." He tugged her hand gently, pulling her closer until she was a mere breath away.

"Hello." She pressed close to him. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"The cakes are delicious," he murmured as he lifted his hand and stroked her cheek. "So sweet."

"Do you have a favorite?" she murmured as he brushed his thumb across her lips. Goodness, she was lost.

"I think so." He gazed deep into her eyes.

Perhaps this was why she had been avoiding him. When she was close to Varn, it was impossible to hide her true feelings. Her usual calm control evaporated.

It was as if he freed her from the confines of who she was. Or who she pretended to be.

"Do you want to walk me out?" Varn murmured, his breath warm on her skin.

"You're leaving?" Carys jerked her head back, the spell he'd cast over her broken. Only it wasn't a spell.

His hold on her was as natural as breathing.

"I am staying at Ash's spare apartment. Flint arranged it for me, and I was supposed to pick up the keys, but well…" He gave her a shy smile.

"You met me…" She slipped her hand into his. "Come on. I don't want you to be keeping Ash waiting."

He glanced down at their entwined hands, and his grip tightened. He didn't want to go. She didn't need to hear him say the words to know.

And she did not want him to go either. She wanted him to stay right here, with her.

But that was too fast too soon.

"I'd like that," he murmured gruffly, and then raised his eyes to meet her gaze. "Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes." She tugged his hand and led him toward the door.

"I should say thank you to your aunt for inviting me." Varn looked around the room, searching for Elsbeth.

"I think she headed into the kitchen with Wilhelmina. There was some debate going on about Lemon Drizzle cake." She placed her hand on his chest. "Believe me, you do not want to get caught up in the middle of that, especially if you're planning on leaving anytime soon."

"I don't want her to think that I'm not grateful for being welcomed into her home." Varn lingered in the doorway. "I want her to like me."

"She likes you." Carys cupped his face in her hand. "And don't worry, I'll tell her. But right now, I want to go outside and kiss you under the stars."

"You do?" It was cute how surprised he was at her words. Or maybe he was surprised that she was so forward and direct.

Well, he had a lot to learn about her. Carys had never been one to play coy or shy away from what she wanted. And right now, at this moment, she wanted nothing more than to be alone with Varn, to feel his lips on hers and lose herself in his arms.

Losing herself in his bed would be even better. But she could not go home with him tonight. It would not be fair to her aunt or the other party guests. Even though she was certain they would all understand, given the circumstances.

However, she had no intention of being the talk of the town. She had a reputation she needed to preserve if she wanted to continue to be taken seriously in her work.

She led him out into the crisp night air, the twinkling lights strung around the porch casting a warm glow. The distant sound of laughter and chatter from inside the house faded as they stepped farther into the shadows.

Varn's hand tightened around hers, his thumb rubbing slow circles on her skin that sent tingles racing up her arm. When they reached the far end of the porch, Carys turned to face him, tilting her head back to meet his intense gaze.

In the soft light, the angles of his face were even more striking, the shadows accentuating the firm line of his jaw and the sensual curve of his lips. Carys's breath caught in her throat as Varn lifted his free hand to cradle her cheek, his palm warm against her skin.

"Carys," he murmured, her name a rough caress. "I've been wanting to do this all evening."

He lowered his head, his mouth hovering a mere whisper from hers. Carys's eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, her heart pounding a wild rhythm in her chest. And then his lips touched hers, gently at first, a soft brush that ignited a spark deep within her core.

The kiss quickly deepened, Varn's hand sliding into her hair as he angled her head to slant his mouth more firmly over hers.

Carys melted into him, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt as she pressed closer, losing herself in the heady sensation of his kiss. Varn's arm wrapped around her waist, her soft curves molded around the hard planes of his body. A low growl rumbled in his chest, the primal sound sending a shiver of desire coursing through her veins.

She clung to him, ready to give herself to him. Who cared about reputation when she could lie in his bed and make love all night?

His tongue traced her lower lip, and she parted for him eagerly, welcoming the bold invasion. He tasted of lemons, with an underlying hint of Earl Grey.

Carys clutched at his shoulders, her knees going weak as the kiss consumed her. She had been kissed before, but never like this. Never with such primal passion and intense need. It was as if Varn was pouring all the years of his pent-up longing into this one moment, branding her as his own.

When he finally lifted his head, they were both breathing hard, their chests heaving. Varn rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he struggled to regain control. Carys ran her fingers through his hair. She could feel the tension thrumming through his body, the barely leashed power he held in check.

"I should go," he ground out, as if leaving her was the hardest thing he'd ever have to do.

"Tomorrow," she murmured. "I'll see you tomorrow."

With a groan, like a wounded animal, he pulled away from her and strode out into the darkness, without turning back.

Carys stood staring after him, not wanting to go back inside. Not yet, not while her lips still tingled from his kiss.

"Carys." Liselle slipped out of the house and joined her on the porch. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything is just perfect," she replied with a sigh.

"When I met Varn last Christmas, I never imagined anyone would describe Varn as perfect." Liselle leaned her hands on the porch railings. "But I can see he is perfect for you."

"But I leave in a few days, Liselle. What am I supposed to do?" Carys asked.

"Follow your heart," Liselle replied.

"That isn't really an answer," Carys told her.

"Listen, Varn spent this last year searching for you. He has no real ties to Cairnnor, or here. I would not be surprised if he would carry you around the world if you asked him to," Liselle replied.

"That doesn't seem fair," Carys murmured.

"I don't think Varn would agree with you. He's yearned for you for so long. To him, fair would be never leaving your side again." Liselle took hold of Carys's hand. "Come on. Let's get back inside."

Carys stared into the distance, but Varn had gone. With a longing sigh, she followed Liselle into the house, counting down the minutes until she would see Varn again.

After all, tomorrow would soon come, and Varn was not going anywhere.