5. Ecco

5

ECCO

I clutch my steaming mug of elderberry tea like a security blanket, letting the mug's warmth seep into my hands as I hunch forward on the plush leather couch. The scent of the floral tea usually soothes me, reminding me of home. Right now, it barely registers.

My mind keeps replaying that moment on stage, when I spotted that hooded figure lurking at the back of the studio audience. I can barely remember the rest of the performance, just a blur of fear and anxiety that somehow ended with me here, in the greenroom.

Natalie paces nearby, her stilettos clicking against the polished floor. Her worried gaze burns a hole through me.

She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, the door bursts open.

Graeme storms in, his granite features betraying his frustration. Natalie whirls to face him, her voice tight.

"Did you find them? The person who spooked Ecco?"

Graeme shakes his head, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "It got away. Whatever it was, Ms. Waverly was right, it's not human. Definitely something magical."

Irritation flares through me. I slam my mug down on the coffee table, tea sloshing over the sides.

"What's the point of having a bodyguard if you can't even catch the person threatening me?" I snap. "I thought you were supposed to be the best."

Graeme's icy blue eyes narrow, his jaw clenching. In two long strides he's looming over me, his hulking frame seeming to swallow the room. I have to crane my neck to meet his steely gaze. My heart hammers in my throat at his proximity.

He smells like leather and petrichor, earthy and wild.

"My job is to protect you," he says, each word deliberate and heavy as stone. "I shouldn't have gone after them at all. That was an instinct I need to control—it left you unguarded, vulnerable."

He leans in closer, his breath hot against my face.

"From now on, I'm not leaving your side. Day or night, I'll be your shadow."

I swallow, his words sending a delicious lick of heat through my veins. Having this imposing, stone-hued god-like male with me at all hours...

I mentally chastise myself as soon as I realize what's happening.

This is just like me—my crushes always come at the most inconvenient times, and I am constantly falling for exactly the wrong person.

Graeme's totally the kind of alpha asshole that has pulverized my heart again and again.

But that's not going to happen this time, because I'm not going to let myself feel those feelings. I can't, not with a stalker on the loose, my career just taking off, and Mariah's wedding right around the corner.

"Fine," I say, trying for breezy nonchalance and probably missing by a mile. "Just stay out of my way, okay? My fans know me as approachable, and I have an image to maintain."

Graeme's expression doesn't so much as flicker. "Your image is the least of my concerns," he says flatly.

Natalie turns to look at me, perfectly sculpted brows raised. "Well," she says. "This should be interesting."

I can only nod mutely.

My heart is still going a million miles a minute—and this time it's not fear that's making my pulse race.

Two days later, I'm a whirlwind of activity as I pack for the trip back to Elderberry Falls. Clothes in every color of the rainbow fly through the air as I dig through my drawers, dresses and scarves and floaty tops landing haphazardly in my suitcase.

Minx watches from her perch on my bed, her tail twitching lazily.

"What do you think, Minxy?" I hold up two nearly identical dresses, one in shimmering lavender, the other in glittering periwinkle. "Which one screams ‘supportive maid of honor' more?"

Minx just blinks at me slowly, clearly unimpressed by my fashion dilemma. I shrug and toss them both in the suitcase.

Variety is the spice of life, after all.

I zip up my bulging bags and lug them to the door, Minx trailing behind me and meekly hopping into her backpack carrier bag. As I reach for the handles, there's a now-familiar tingle on the back of my neck.

Graeme.

I turn to find him looming in the doorway, his expression darker than a thundercloud.

"No," he growls, eyeing Minx's carrier with blatant distaste. "That creature is not coming in my car."

I hug Minx's carrier to my chest. "Minx goes everywhere with me," I insist, jutting my chin out. "She's a part of the wedding ceremony. Mariah insisted, and I would never let my best friend down."

Graeme's jaw clenches and I can practically see the argument building behind his stormy gaze.

Then his eyes flick to my face and my pleading look must give him pause. He lets out a long-suffering sigh, the sound reminding me of rocks grinding together.

"Fine," he grumbles. "But it rides in the trunk. I won't have it roaming free in my car."

"She," I correct. "And no way. Minx needs to sit on my lap during drives or she gets carsick." I pause as his eyes flash dangerously, worried I've gone too far. "I'll… I'll sit in the back with her."

I shift uncomfortably as I realize that essentially would make Graeme my chauffeur. It's obnoxious, asking him to drive while I lounge in the backseat like some sort of diva. But I stand my ground.

Graeme throws his hands up, clearly exasperated and disapproving. "Fine. If that beast damages the upholstery, you're paying for it."

He snatches my bags and stomps off towards the car.

I trail after him, feeling Minx turn in circles, bumping her carrier against my back. This is going to be one long, awkward drive. But it will all be worth it to stand beside Mariah on her big day.

I just hope Graeme and I don't kill each other before we get there.

The hours-long drive to Elderberry Falls stretches out before us, the silence in the car thick and stifling. I fidget in the backseat.

Minx is purring contentedly in my lap. At least one of us is having fun. The quiet grates on my nerves, my skin itching with the need to fill the void with chatter.

I find my gaze drawn to the rearview mirror, to the reflection of Graeme's chiseled profile. His eyes are fixed on the road, his jaw set in a tense line. His hands grip the steering wheel, the corded muscles of his forearms flexing with every minute adjustment.

A sudden urge overtakes me, a bizarre impulse to reach out and smooth the crease of his brow, or try to coax a smile from those stern, unyielding lips. I shake my head, trying to dislodge the intrusive thought.

Desperate for a distraction, I decide to attempt conversation. "So, have you ever been to Elderberry Falls before?" I ask brightly.

"No." His response is curt, clipped.

Undeterred, I press on. "Are you from a magical town?"

"No."

"Do you usually guard humans or magical beings?"

"Humans."

I frown. Getting more than single word answers from him is like pulling teeth. I try a different approach.

"How long have you been a bodyguard? What got you into this line of work?"

"Years." Graeme replies, his gaze never wavering from the road ahead. "Family business."

I bite back a scream of frustration, my fingers curling into fists. I'm used to people opening up to me, to easy smiles and flowing conversation. I never have to work this hard to get someone talking. His terse responses and stony demeanor throw me off balance, leaving me wrong-footed and agitated.

After a few more attempts to draw him out, each met with grunts or monosyllabic answers, I give up. If he wants to marinate in silence, then fine.

Two can play at that game.

I turn to stare moodily out the window, watching trees streak past as we leave the human lands, and then the familiar scenery of Elderberry Falls comes into view. As we cross the town border, the tension starts to melt from my shoulders, a wave of nostalgia washing over me.

The quaint buildings are awash in a riot of colors, like a box of crayons came to life. The air shimmers with enchantment, wisps of magic curling and dancing through the streets.

Each storefront sparks cherished memories in my mind.

There's the Crooked Broom, where Mariah and I shared our first tankard of elderberry ale. Spellbound Bookshop, where I've spent countless hours lost in fantastical tales, trying to decide which of the beautiful tomes to take home with me. The Hungry Minotaur, which serves the best pumpkin spice muffins in any realm.

Every cobblestone, every shingle, every flower box is woven into the fabric of my being.

Elderberry Falls isn't just my hometown—it's my anchor. My true north. No matter how far I roam, the magic of this place will always call me home.

As we wind through the familiar streets, my spirits lift. The stalker, the tension with Graeme… it all seems to matter less here, like a sound that was a dull roar fading into a soft hum.

With that comforting thought, I settle back in my seat, smiling.