PUBLIC DEVOTION
Acedia (noun): apathy, boredom.
DAY 20, HOUR 16
She stood unnaturally still. Pale skin was flushed a sickly gray.
Mesmerizing navy eyes were wide with horror as she gaped at the enchanted billboard that listed the High Court news. The floor beneath her feet was shiny with black ice.
The temperature in the mall plummeted.
Shifters moved around her, unaware.
Women and men—arms overflowing with shopping bags—chatted and laughed as they stopped to read the billboard, then moved on to make more useless purchases.
Clad in all black, Arabella was an immovable force among sheep. She was different from them all.
Harder.
Colder.
Stronger.
She was so frustrating that I wanted to strangle her; she was also so beautiful that I wanted to burn the world for daring to hurt her, myself included.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d melted beneath the three of us in the dressing room. She’d played with my cock like it was hers. It was.
Sun god, I wanted to do depraved things to her.
Flushing with heat, I focused on thinking about Dick and Lothaire naked until my erection deflated.
My mind wondered to what Arabella had written in the truth journal. She thought our relationship was toxic, which meant my Revered hated being around me.
The aching hollowness in my chest expanded.
I could feel her slipping through my fingers.
She shared glances with my mates and seemed to open up to them, but with me, she was a blizzard.
Unrelentingly frozen.
My worst fears had come true. I’d found my Revered, and she hated me, and I had no one to blame but myself.
“Move,” I snapped at a male shifter who walked in front of me and blocked my view of Arabella.
The man stuttered with outrage, and I shoved him aside.
He glanced up at my face, and his scorned expression morphed into fear. He hurried away into the crowded mall, running like he was on fire.
I scoffed.
I’d give him something to really run from.
“Don’t torment the pathetic shifters,” Scorpius drawled in my ear as his fingers wrapped around the back of my neck and squeezed.
Orion walked up to my other side and whispered, “Do you think she’s going to forgive us?”
He stared at our Revered with wide, unblinking eyes. Unlike Scorpius, he probably hadn’t noticed the shifter that I’d shoved to the ground, because he was solely focused on Arabella at all times.
I took a deep, calming breath and drew strength from my Protectors.
All of us were together.
We still had a chance to fix this.
She’d just been writhing beneath us and moaning with pleasure.
“Yes,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel and dropped the pile of bags for them to carry.
Cracking my neck back and forth like I was getting loose for battle, I slowly approached Arabella. I stood beside her, facing forward. We were about a foot apart.
Minutes passed.
Neither of us spoke.
With painstaking slowness, I sidled closer.
Inch by inch.
She shivered and subconsciously swayed toward my warmth. A soft sigh of relief released through her parted lips, and I couldn’t hold back my smirk. Smugness filled the chasm in my chest.
I was serving my Revered.
I fought the urge to release my flames and scorch the mall to the ground. It would fill me with joy to burn all the useless shifters just to give her warmth. My fingertips tingled as flames danced and the urge to explode mounted.
I smiled as I imagined how good it would feel, scarlet pouring onto the marble floors. I bared my teeth as a shifter swore and stumbled away from me. Exhilaration filled me.
She would never forgive you.
My smile dropped.
The flames extinguished.
As the mall buzzed around us, I stood silently beside my Revered and studied the scrolling neon words like I hadn’t worked with the High Court on each sentence.
“Why?” Arabella whispered so quietly that I almost missed it.
I turned and stared at her side profile.
My Revered was breathtaking and fragile, and I would protect her from everyone who dared to harm her.
Her voice rose as she asked, “Why does it say that the Queen of the Fae is being courted by three handsome fae who have pledged to serve as her hounds, and why is there a picture of the three of you?”
She turned to glare at me, and her eyes were a shade of blue that was so fierce it was hard to maintain eye contact.
I held her gaze and took a step closer.
Using my size to overwhelm her personal space, I said, “Because we’re your hounds and we’re here to serve.”
She tilted her head back. “You aren’t fae.”
“Neither are you, Your Majesty.”
Her face scrunched. “Explain yourself. Why would you have this drivel published? What game are you playing?”
She stared up at me like I was manipulating her, and my hackles rose at the assumption that I was doing anything but protecting her. It was unacceptable that she was doubting my competency as her Ignis.
“There’s a reason nobody knows the full truth about angels and devils.” I shook my head. She was too smart to act this dumb.
Her eyes widened as she remembered those closest to the sun god were mostly hidden from the masses.
True power was unexpected.
How better to serve your god than to walk among the realms overpowered and overlooked?
I thumped my chest. “Now everyone in the fae realm knows their queen has protectors. They will hesitate before they come for you.”
Her lush lips parted, and she looked so angry it was adorable.
Lately words like cute and sweet were filtering into my internal vocabulary. There was something about her rage that amused me.
It was the reason I’d listened to that idiot Sadie and gotten Arabella’s name written across my toes. She’d blushed prettily and sputtered when she’d saw what I’d done.
For a split second, before she’d rebuilt her shields, she’d looked at me with softness.
I’d do anything for that expression.
I uncrossed my arms and tried to sound calm. “I didn’t lie. I’m your hound, and now everyone knows it. We’ll stand in front of you as shields and serve you, in this war and beyond. We won’t let anyone hurt you—ever.”
She exhaled a cloud of smoke. “That’s exactly why we’ll never work.”
“Excuse me?”
She grimaced. “You keep missing the point—I don’t need anyone to protect me.”
“It is fundamentally our role to protect you,” I said with agitation. “You don’t understand our culture.”
“I got you a cinnamon pretzel.” Sadie pushed past me and handed a sugary monstrosity to Arabella. “I couldn’t remember if you ate butter, so I told them to not use it. Also, Cobra tried to take a bite, but I stabbed him with a plastic knife.”
My Revered smiled at her idiotic whore of a friend and took the stupid pretzel like it was a priceless gift.
“Can we buy matching diamond push-up bras?” Sadie asked as she hugged her. “I was thinking it would raise our morale in battle if we knew we had them beneath our outfits.”
“They’re uniforms, not outfits,” I corrected her idiotic ramblings.
“Or we could both free ball it,” Sadie continued like I hadn’t spoken. “Pro is we’ll feel very empowered joining the free the nipple campaign. Con is that it might hurt if we get punched in the chest.”
Instead of pushing Sadie away and telling her to stop her moronic drivel, Arabella’s face lit up like she’d stepped in sunshine. “Amazing ideas. Great battle strategizing.”
There it was.
My Revered’s softness.
The problem was it wasn’t for me. Sadie preened and tugged my Revered away from me. “Let’s go to another store.”
I imagined setting her white hair up in flames.
Arabella looked back at me, and her smile fell. “You don’t understand my culture. I don’t need shields. I just want friends who stand by my side.” She turned her back to me and walked away.
I exhaled flames and the hollowness in my chest expanded.
If that was what she needed, I would show her I could be that man. Even if it killed me.
