To Love a Shifter: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (36 page)

She tried distracting herself with her surroundings. The chamber Magenta had led her and Lysander into was as wondrous and vast as everything was in this realm. The ceiling and walls were of marble, its azure shade making Misty feel she was inside a rich fish’s version of an aquarium.

Misty cleared her throat. “Do you, umm, have any questions about the Alliance?”

“Hmmm…” He nodded, an absent-minded air about him. His gaze suddenly lifted to hers, the unique lilac shade of his eyes making her blink in surprise. There was also a gleam in them that she couldn’t quite understand, causing Misty to feel skittish.

She was nervous.
Good. It would make her more likely to tell the truth. Did this human truly understand how important the Alliance was to non-human races? To test her, he murmured, “I would like to know more about certain matters of defense.” Lysander was stunned when she nodded back at him.

“You’re wondering what kind of aid the other races would provide to help defend your realm, right?” Misty started to fidget when it took Lysander a long time to answer.

Lysander slowly dropped Misty’s hand before taking a step back. This time, he took a really good look at her. 

Her hair was dark and straight, somewhat old-fashioned with its style and length, reaching almost her waist now. Her gray eyes were made bigger by her long fine lashes, and her heart-shaped face, with its tiny nose and rosy red lips, was wondrously feminine. When he took it all in, with her peasant-styled blouse and skirt, there was just one fairytale character that came to mind:

Snow White.

A naïve princess lured into the forest by the huntsman – and he was that huntsman, but the difference was that he wanted her body and not her heart. He thought she would be another easy conquest, another woman to seduce from her so-called “love” for another man.

Milo was an honest man, or so Lysander had thought until now. His mouth twisted cynically as he gazed at Misty. He finally realized that Milo had been trying to teach him a lesson. Milo had known he was one of those who strongly doubted Misty Wall’s abilities, and now he was hearing for himself how much he had greatly underestimated the girl before him.

“I’ve read as much as I can about your race’s history and this realm that you created,” Misty was saying earnestly. “I know I still have much to learn, but even this early I know there are issues that have to be addressed.”

He lifted one brow at her. “Like what?”

“I know the Realm is shielded. No one uninvited can come in, which takes care of vampires. But what if – for some unknown reason – they do manage to come in? What then? How will Faeries defend themselves? And what about the Faeries who do leave the Realm once in a while? Can they protect themselves?”

Misty took a peek at Lysander’s expression, fearful that he’d be insulted by her questions. But he looked somewhat astonished instead.

“Those are extremely good points, my pretty,” he conceded.

Her lips formed a spontaneous grin. “You make me sound like Gollum’s precious ring.”

In spite of himself, Lysander chuckled. “And you are the first one who does not appear enamored by the endearment.”

The sound of his dark chuckle sent mental warning bells ringing in her ears again. Was he really gay?

Lysander snapped his lace fan open then, and the sight and sound of it immediately put her at ease.

One look at her expressive face and Lysander knew he had Misty Wall completely fooled.
Ah, my pretty, you will be naked and groaning in my bed very, very soon.

Misty tried imagining Domenico Moretti using the same lace fan. Her lips twitched even as the thought pinched her heart. Just thinking of him was bittersweet, and so incredibly dangerous to her sanity that she quickly pushed the thought away.

“If I were to ask you to rate the abilities of my people to fight against our common enemy, how would they fare?”

She couldn’t answer right away, not when the truth wasn’t something they both wanted to hear.

A faint wince crossed his face. “That bad?”

“Milo has intensified their training,” Misty answered with her usual optimism. “I’m sure everyone will get better in no time.”

“Have
you
gotten better?”

Misty answered slowly, “I have to say ‘yes’. But it’s only because my younger brother was one of their victims. I want to be strong enough to defend not just myself but the people I care about if we’re ever in danger.”

So different,
he mused silently. Faerie women were raised to be dependent on their men. Could her novelty be enough reason to explain this increasing fascination Lysander felt for her?

Seeing that she was gazing at something else, he let his eyes trail all over her body once more, noting the generous swell of her breasts above the modest neckline of her blouse. Ah, what he would do with those breasts when it was his to play with!

A groan escaped him,  his imagination running wild with images of Misty underneath him.

The groan made Misty turn back at Lysander. “Is something wrong?”

Fuck! Lysander abruptly turned away, doing his best to suppress his cock’s burgeoning erection. Knowing that standing still would only alert Misty more quickly to his current condition, he said lightly, “I think it is best I see for myself how our defenses are doing.”

They walked together to the courtyard, the silence curiously strained between them. Had she done something wrong?

She asked timidly, “Is it that time of the month?”

He lifted a brow, bemused.

Misty cleared her throat. “Umm, you know…PMS, gay version? Daryl has it every month like a girl.”

Lysander prided himself to be a man of sophistication, one whose refinement was beyond his years. But at the words of the human before him, it took every bit of his so-called worldliness
not
to choke. “Aaah, no. I was merely thinking about something…personal…a problem that I must unfortunately solve on my own.”

“Are you sure I can’t help you with it?”

No
, Lysander thought.
Not when how I can get you in my bed as soon as fucking possible was the problem.
He shook his head. “It’s okay, my pretty. I thank you for the concern.”

Seeing the frown on Lysander’s face and never the type to do nothing when someone appeared troubled, Misty ventured hesitantly, “Do you want to hear a joke?”

Again, he did his best not to choke. Could this truly be the woman the Moretti heir was allegedly so obsessed about that he had let her ruin him?

Seeing Misty’s hopeful expression, he said without thinking, “I would be honored to.” It was a lie, though. He despised jokes, considered them to be the worst form of art.

She brightened. “You won’t regret it. I have really good jokes.”
Domenico used to
---Misty had a sudden urge to cry. She was trying so very hard to focus on anything but
him,
but none of it---not even the pressing matters of the Faeries could stop herself from thinking about him.

“The joke?” Lysander asked gently, seeing Misty’s clouded expression and correctly interpreting it.

She cleared her throat. “So there are these two guys, Jim and Jack…” Misty paused, almost hearing Daryl groaning in her mind. In the time they had spent together, he had become exasperated with her endless supply of Jim-and-Jack jokes, but every time she had a new one, he would always want to be the first to hear it.

“Go on.”

Clearing her throat, Misty resumed with her joke. “Well, the two men were walking down a street when they stopped dead on their tracks. They saw something ahead of them, some kind of weird-looking brown-colored puddle.”

He frowned. “Mud?”

Misty shook her head, her lips already twitching as she anticipated her punch line. “I’ll get there, I promise,” she told him with a cheerful smile, her eyes twinkling with merriment.

His heart thudded at the sight of those twinkling eyes, a reaction so unnatural and unfamiliar, Lysander stiffened in shock.
Just lust,
he told himself. She was, after all, not like any other Faerie woman he had fucked. It was to be expected that he would feel more attracted to her than usual.

She cleared her throat again.

Jim shakes his head when he looks at the brown stuff on the ground. He says, “That’s freaking gross, man. Dog poop.”

Jack scratches his head. “No, dude. That’s, like, molten chocolate. Yesterday was Valentine’s remember? Maybe some chick dropped a slice.”

“Idiot. It’s poop.”

Jack snorted. “You need glasses, dude. That’s clearly chocolate.”

Jim crouched down in one knee. “Let me prove to you it’s dog poop.” He stuck one finger into the puddle----

Lysander winced, realizing where the joke was heading. “Misty---” He paused, half-exasperated and half-amused when he realized Misty was already giggling.

“This is good, really, just let me finish it,” Misty insisted even as she tried to stop herself from giggling. She resumed with her joke.

Jim brought the stuff into his mouth for a taste. “Blech! I told you it’s poop! Check it out if you don’t believe me.”

She pretended to do what Jack did, bringing one finger to her mouth.

Even though Lysander’s body was rocking with silent mirth, he had an immediate erection with how unconsciously seductive Misty’s pose was.

Jack crouched down as well and dipped his finger into the puddle. He grimaced after tasting. “You’re right. It is poop.”

Misty made a disgusted face as she pretended to be Jack. Lysander struggled to keep his laughter in control.

They stood up, Jim shaking his head in relief. “Good thing we didn’t step on it, right?”

The punch line took him completely by surprise and Lysander laughed, a sound that was completely genuine and extremely…male.

Misty blinked at the sound. This time, she blurted out, “Are you really gay?”

Lysander let his laughter die naturally even though he was tense inside, knowing he had to tread carefully or all his plans would go to hell with just one wrong word. He snapped his fan open again and adjusted his lace cuffs.

When he finally met Misty’s gaze, Lysander knew what he had to say. “I’m sorry if my homosexuality offends---”

She gasped in dismay. “Oh, no, no.” She shook her head vehemently while mentally berating herself for even asking a question. “I’m sorry if I made you think like that. I totally have nothing against your homosexuality. I mean, Daryl and Milo and I get along with each other very well.”