Dark Kings 15.5: Constantine: A History Bundle by Donna Grant

Author:Donna Grant [Grant, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Google: -e0CEAAAQBAJ
Publisher: DL Grant, LLC
Published: 2019-10-30T14:00:00+00:00

“Con? Is the intruder taken care of?”

He wanted to ignore Royden, but he knew if he didn’t, it would bring others to him, and he didn’t want that. In fact, Con was quite content to be alone with the beautiful stranger. “Everything is fine,” he answered.

Iris. Without comprehending how, he knew the name wasn’t hers. There was something about her that was familiar. The easy way they spoke should worry him, as if they were long-lost friends. But he would remember someone like her.

She was utterly unforgettable. Not only because of her beauty, but also because of the gentleness that somehow went hand-in-hand with her spine of steel.

He should’ve removed her from Dreagan immediately, but something, some unknown force he couldn’t name, stopped him. And once he began talking to Iris, he couldn’t seem to stop.

A blind man would have been able to see that she held a wealth of secrets, but not once did he believe that she was there to do any harm to him or the other Kings. While she managed to evade his questions for the most part, he wasn’t angry. Just…continually curious.

“Will you walk with me?”

Her question took him off guard. Then again, everything she did surprised him. Con quite liked their spot near the stream, but he found himself saying, “Aye,” before he knew what was happening.

She gave him a dazzling smile and rose to her feet in one fluid motion. He stood and looked down at her, noting that she barely came to his shoulders. A sudden, inescapable need to protect her rose within him.

Her eyes blinked up at him, clear and sincere. In the moonlight, the lavender orbs had a fire unto themselves. A Druid she wasn’t. He suspected she was a Fae who used glamour to hide herself.

Iris turned, her long, black hair swinging with her. She lifted her skirts and crossed the stream at its narrowest point and made her way into the thick trees. He followed a step behind her, still attempting to figure out why she was there.

“Why did you speak of hope?” he asked.

She stopped beside a small, creeping shrub. It wasn’t until she bent to smell the fragrant, delicate bloom that he realized what it was. A twinflower. Iris’s touch was gentle as she looked closely at the pinkish-white, downward-facing, bell-shaped flowers. He’d always found the little plants with their five-petaled flowers hanging on either side of a forked stem unique and quite pretty.

Irish whispered something to the plant before she straightened and briefly met his gaze before continuing on. “Hope is what helps things continue. You’re losing yours.”

He didn’t dispute her claim. “It’s a wasted emotion.”

“Why do you say that?”

“From my experience, it only sets you up for disappointment.”

Iris stopped and turned to him. “All of your experience? There isn’t one instance where hope gave you something in return?”

Con looked away from her probing gaze. It was as if she could see straight into his soul, into the dark corners where he kept his most private desires and yearnings.

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