Chapter Nineteen: Aralyn

"I'm really not in the mood," Aralyn told Uncle Burt for the tenth time, and for the tenth time, he ignored her.

In his words, this would do her good .

Whatever that meant!

"Everyone will be so disappointed if you don't come," Uncle Burt told her as he waited in the hallway for her to finish dressing.

After the incident with Silas this morning, and Caldric's admission over the invitation to the ball, she'd spent all day trying to come up with a Plan B.

Perhaps if she wasn't so angry with Caldric, she might have succeeded. But she could not clear her mind long enough to think straight about how else she was going to infiltrate the ball or gain access to the Tolioni house any other way.

They would notice her coming from a mile away, and without the protection of an official invitation, she wouldn't stand a chance against so many vampires.

She sighed. Maybe Uncle Burt was right. Maybe a visit to the tavern and one of Morwenna's magical drinks was the answer. Surely, that old witch had something that would help calm her.

"Are you ready?" Burt asked.

"I guess." She stepped out of her bedroom dressing in her usual black jeans, a thick layered bodice interwoven with magic to protect her vital organs, and a long black cloak, which hid the stakes in her belt.

Uncle Burt pressed his lips together. "Don't you have a dress you could wear?"

"A dress?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Since when do I ever wear a dress?"

Her throat constricted and her hands went to her thighs as she recalled the dress Caldric had picked out for her to wear to the ball.

"I thought it might be a nice change," Uncle Burt replied. "Sort of like a dress rehearsal for tomorrow."

"Wearing a dress is no longer part of the plan." Aralyn shrugged. "I'm going to get myself onto the catering team instead. It's what I should have done in the first place, instead of trying to fool everyone into thinking I was dating a vampire."

"Were you fooling everyone?" Uncle Burt asked.

"What do you mean?" Color flooded Aralyn's cheeks. Uncle Burt knew more than he was letting on.

But he was not about to admit it. "Last night you two seemed close, that's all."

"It was that infernal fae band," Aralyn said. "They got inside my head. Shall we go?"

She didn't want to answer any more questions about last night. Not that she regretted what happened.

How could she when she'd felt connected to Caldric more than anyone else in her life? But it had been under the influence of magic. Either the fae band, or Morwenna, or even that dreaded tavern.

Aralyn brushed past Uncle Burt, eager to escape the conversation and her own conflicting emotions. As they stepped out of Burt's house and into the cool night air, she took a deep breath, trying to clear her head.

They walked along the street in silence as Aralyn mulled over her options for tomorrow night. After a quick drink with her uncle at The Lonely Tavern, she'd slip away and set a new plan in motion. One that didn't depend on anyone else.

Least of all, an unreliable vampire.

"A penny for them," Uncle Burt said as they neared the tavern.

"Sorry." She sighed, not realizing how long she had been in her own head. "I'm not great company tonight. Why don't we take a rain check and have a drink after the ball?"

"Oh, no!" He looped his arm through hers and she had the sneaking suspicion he was up to something.

Something that involved Caldric?

"What are you up to, Uncle?" Aralyn asked.

"Me? Nothing!" he protested but lying had never been his strong suit. His eyes darted away, unable to meet her gaze.

"Uncle Burt," Aralyn said, her voice low and dangerous. "Tell me what's going on. Now."

"Let's get inside." Uncle Burt propelled her toward the tavern door.

She was about to resist and pulled away when the door opened, and the soft strains of an orchestra floated out to greet them.

Aralyn froze, her heart skipping a beat as she recognized the melody. It was the same haunting tune they had heard last night in the upstairs hallway. Except this time it wasn't on a sole piano, instead with the full force of string instruments and percussion behind it.

There didn't appear to be anyone seated inside, and no one attended the instruments as they played a soft melody.

"Uncle Burt, what is going on?" Aralyn asked.

"You'll see." And then, before she knew it, they were stepping inside the tavern, which was lit by hundreds of candles, some floating, some on the floor, casting a romantic glow over the scene. The tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides to make room for the orchestra and a larger grand piano.

Which looked exactly like the one from Caldric's mansion.

"Shall we sit?" Uncle Burt led her to a table covered in an elegant white cloth, and an ornate candle stick.

Which she suspected was also from Caldric's home.

"What is all this?" Aralyn asked, trying to make sense of the scene before her. This was clearly no ordinary night at The Lonely Tavern.

"Just take a seat, have a drink, and let the evening unfold," Uncle Burt said.

Right on cue, Harry and Stan, dressed in formal suits, appeared from the side of the bar. Stan carried a silver tray with two champagne flutes while Harry dashed forward and pulled out a chair for her to sit on.

"Now I wish I had worn a dress," Aralyn murmured.

"I don't think it truly matters what you wear tonight." Uncle Burt patted her hand as he let her go and then took a seat next to her at the table.

Aralyn accepted her drink from Stan and took a sip. It was perfectly chilled, and yet warming all at the same time.

As she placed her glass down on the table, she glanced around the transformed tavern. The elegant setting, the orchestra, the familiar piano—it all pointed to one person. But where was he?

As if in answer to her unspoken question, the door to the back room swung open. Caldric stepped into the room, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored black suit. His dark hair was swept back, revealing the sharp angles of his face. His eyes found Aralyn immediately, and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Her breath caught as their eyes met across the room, and she felt a familiar ache in her chest, a mixture of longing and desire.

There was something different about him tonight. But as he approached the piano, she could not pinpoint what it was.

Perhaps she simply needed to go with it. Caldric had obviously planned the whole thing, with the help of the Regulars.

She cast a sideways glance at her uncle and his friends. They sure were something.

Meddling. That was the something.

The room fell silent as Caldric flicked his coattails out behind him and sat down on the piano stool, his fingers hovering over the keys for a moment before he began to play. The first notes were soft, almost tentative, and Aralyn's heart ached at the sound.

Had he found the part of himself that brought emotion to his music?

Perhaps their night together had awoken something deep inside him that had helped him reconnect with the music.

Yet she still sensed something was lacking. She could see the hint of frustration in the tug of his brows as he played.

Then, without warning, his eyes locked onto hers over the top of the piano.

It was as if time itself paused. The tavern, the music, the people around them—all of it faded away, leaving only the two of them. In that moment, something shifted in the air, a subtle change that she could feel deep within her. Caldric's fingers, still moving across the keys, seemed to find new life. The music shifted, and the notes grew richer and fuller, the melody more intricate.

The music washed over her, seeping into her very being. It was as if he were speaking to her through the notes of music, telling her everything he couldn't say with words. The pain, the regret, the love he had for her—it was all there, woven into the music with a tenderness that brought tears to her eyes.

She couldn't look away from him, couldn't stop the tears that welled up as the music filled the tavern, touching her heart in a way that words never could. Each note was a caress, each chord a confession, and she realized with a start that he was composing this piece as he played. This wasn't just music—this was his heart laid bare, every emotion he couldn't feel, but somehow knew, flowing through his fingers and into the piano.

As the music swelled to its climax, the other instruments all building alongside Caldric's piano, Aralyn's tears fell freely. She understood now. The curse had taken his ability to feel, but it hadn't taken his understanding of love. He might not be able to feel the passion, the joy, or the sorrow, but he knew—deep in his being—that she was his true love. And that knowledge, that truth, was enough to bring the music in him back to life.

The last notes hung in the air, a delicate, lingering echo that left the room in stunned silence as the instruments stilled. Caldric's hands stayed on the keys, and for a moment, he remained seated, his eyes still locked with hers. Then, slowly, he rose from the piano and began to walk toward her.

She could feel the other eyes on her, but all that mattered was the man in front of her. The man who had just poured his soul into a piece of music that had touched her in ways she couldn't even begin to describe.

When he reached her, he paused, his expression unreadable. Then he took her hand in his, lifting it gently to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers, and in that moment, Aralyn felt the last of her walls begin to crumble.

He straightened, still holding her hand, and as he did, he bowed slightly. "That piece," he said quietly, his voice filled with tenderness, "was called ‘ Aralyn. '"

"What a coincidence," Uncle Burt said as he got up from his chair. "I'm just going to the bar."

"Subtle," Aralyn murmured as he and his friends hurried away, leaving her alone with Caldric.

"May I sit?" Caldric nodded toward the now empty chair beside her.

"If you'd like," she replied coolly, still not sure she was ready to forgive him.

"May I apologize?" Caldric asked as he sat down, and the unmanned orchestra began to play a soft, romantic melody in the background.

Aralyn took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. "For what exactly?" she asked.

Caldric's mouth quirked up at the corners. "For being a fool."

"That's not exactly…exact, is it?" Aralyn picked up her champagne and took a sip.

"I'm sorry I upset you." Caldric's hand slid toward hers across the table. "I'm sorry you thought I lied about the invitation."

"You did lie." Aralyn turned to lock eyes with him.

"I would say, or perhaps say that I wasn't completely forthright…" His smile widened as she shot him a sharp look. "But I understand you saw it as a lie and for that, I am truly sorry. I never intended to mislead you or let you down."

"You could have ruined everything," Aralyn told him. "You could have put us both in a very prickly situation."

His cool hand slid over hers. "I would have gotten us inside the ball one way or another, Aralyn. And I would not let any harm come to you. That is the truth."

"Well, I suppose since you went to so much trouble with the orchestra and getting your musical mojo back, then I guess we should use that invitation of yours." She glanced sideways at Caldric. "Unless you would rather not."

"If you are going to the ball, I will be by your side," Caldric assured her.

"This isn't your problem," she reminded him.

"We are together in this, Aralyn," Caldric assured her. "As we are in all things from now on if you so wish."

"Thank you, Caldric."

No one had ever stood by her side before. She'd always hunted alone, and she'd gotten used to being the only person she could truly rely on.

But the vampire beside her had changed all that.