Chapter Five – Edan

The palace's hospital wing was equipped for everything from hangnails to major surgery. There were several doctors on call at all times in case of emergency. They were regularly rotated out to be sent to conferences and other places where they would have practical experience to ensure they remained the best in the kingdom.

Isobel's leg was badly sprained and bruised from ankle to thigh. She was severely dehydrated and her body was malnourished, but otherwise, she was fine. She just needed bedrest, medication to manage the pain, an IV fluid drip, and a few good meals. Edan stayed with her as she healed, even holding her hand as she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, however, he let her have it.

"How could you do something so dangerous without even telling me?" he seethed after she had eaten breakfast. "I told you that cave was dangerous. You knew that people die in there all the time and yet you went anyway? You didn't even take any precautions! You had no spelunking equipment, not even a flashlight—"

"I had a flashlight," Isobel interrupted. The blanket twisted between her hands but her jaw was still set stubbornly. "I just lost it."

Edan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought you were dead. I thought—"

"That you were going to have to find some other woman to be your bride?"

"It's not that at all."

Isobel folded her arms. Her eyes blazed as her jaw tightened further. "I think that's exactly what it is. You've spent a few days wearing me down and you've spent a small fortune convincing me to be your bride. You were worried you'd have to start the process all over again."

Edan shook his head. He tried not to rise to her bait. Clearly, she wanted him to get angry. Whenever strong emotions were present, rational discussion was impossible and he'd be forced to drop it. He wasn't going to let that happen. "That's not it and you know it, Isobel. I wouldn't have gone into that darkness again and again if all I was worried about was an investment."

She scowled.

"So, I am going to ask you again. Why did you do it? Knowing the dangers, why would you go ahead with something like that?"

Isobel turned her face away.

For the love of God, just answer me! He sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. "Isobel, I don't believe you would have done this on a whim. You said something about your grandmother. Did she get lost inside the cave?"

"No." Finally she looked at him. "She was one of the few people who made it out. And I would tell you why I did it, but I don't think you'll believe me anyway. So why don't you just take back all the fancy jewels and drop me back off at my apartment, huh? I'm going to have to work twice as hard to get my clients back after this long of an absence."

"I'll leave when you tell me why you went in there. Is it because you're psychic?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. He couldn't help it. He could wish to be calm all he wanted, but when it came down to it, she could have been killed and he couldn't figure out why she would put herself in such a position. Why would she leave without even telling him?

"Yes."

Edan started. His eyes widened. "What?"

"I'm psychic. A medium, to be more precise. I went to the caves because I have a damned ghost hanging around me and she convinced me to go. I wanted to know the extent of my abilities, so I went. Happy?" She glared challengingly at him.

For a long moment, he wasn't sure whether he should laugh or resume yelling at her. He'd fallen for that line once before, so it was no surprise that she was trying it again. But would she really think that he would believe it again? His frown increased as he studied his bride – no matter what she did, he still intended to marry her – and eventually shook his head. Whatever she was trying, he wasn't going to let it go just for that explanation.

A flash of disappointment crossed her face. "Yeah. Didn't think you'd believe me."

"You have to admit . . . " He let himself trail off.

Maybe he had been naive to believe her when she approached him in that café, but the feeling he had gotten when she spoke was undeniable. It had felt like the vibrations of the universe pinging against his brain. It was the reason he kept her around even after she revealed the truth to him. There was something about her that made his fires roar, flooding to the ends of his fingertips.

If she was going to be his mate and give him children, then there had to be some trust between them. He couldn't just dismiss what she said out of hand, no matter how unbelievable it was.

"Okay," he said softly. "You're a psychic. Why did you tell me you were trying to con me before, then?"

"Because I was."

Smoke trickled from his mouth. "So you're a psychic but you were trying to con me. Which is it?"

Isobel crossed her arms over her chest. "Both. I can't see ghosts. I can see one ghost. I can't communicate with the universe through vibrations, but I do think there is more to me than even I know. I just . . . "

Edan nodded at her to continue.

"I was raised by my grandmother. She was always there for me because my parents didn't want anything to do with me. My father said I didn't have the power and my mother . . .  She just took off and never came back." She glanced away briefly. "But Gran always told me that I was special, that I had untapped potential that would one day come to fruition. I— Yes, I'm going to tell him everything. That's the deal."

Edan's brows shot up so fast it was a surprise they didn't shoot off his face. "Isobel?"

"If you don't like it, then leave." She huffed. "Sorry. It's Azalea. The ghost that's attached to me. She makes no sense. Now she's saying that you think I'm crazy and you'll lock me away."

Apparently I need to buy her that new car, he thought, then shook his head. No. She wasn't crazy.

"Okay. So, Azalea. How did you get her?"

"I don't know. Shortly after my grandmother died, Azalea appeared. At first, I thought that she was Gran, but it quickly became apparent that she wasn't. Azalea's nothing like her. Ever since then, though, she's been sticking around." Another narrowed glance to one side, then Isobel turned slightly. She focused on him again. "I've never told anybody about her. Sometimes she's helpful, but most times, she's just annoying. That's why I went to the cave."

Edan nodded as though he understood. "To get rid of her."

"No. Not exactly, at least. I never believed my grandmother when she said I was special. I didn't think I could be. I was just me and I'd never shown any magical talent from the day I was born. If I had . . . " A haunted look flashed over her face. "But she was very powerful. She navigated the cave successfully and always told me that she’d one day take me through them. But we never had the money, and then she died."

Lie or not, Edan's heartstrings were tugged. He placed his hand over Isobel's and she jerked, as though startled. Her shoulders tensed until he removed his hand.

With a sigh, she slipped her hand into his. "Sorry. I'm not used to being touched anymore."

"A lonely life," he murmured. "I understand."

Isobel leaned forward slightly, then suddenly snapped back. Her cheeks flushed and she yanked her hand away so suddenly it made him jolt. "Stupid ghost."

"What did she say?"

The blush increased. "I've been saving my money for years to try to get to the cave to try to contact her. And I heard voices. They said they were waiting for me . . . " A shudder. "I would have died in there without you. Or maybe Gran would have found me and helped me out."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that. Looking at her, though, he couldn't believe that she was lying. Slowly, he moved closer, twining his fingers through hers. For a long moment, he just stared at their joined hands before he sighed.

"My brothers and I . . . Clint was always like a second father to me. Our parents were old when they had me and he was already married to Zoelle. I never knew what life was like before. He was good-natured, if stern, and was always there to teach me what I needed to know. Brant was my big brother in every sense. My nemesis, my best friend, my tormentor, my protector."

He paused to gauge Isobel's reaction. She squeezed his hand and nodded at him to continue.

"Zoelle and Brant don't really get along, and I know that Brant has been . . . disappointed in Clint's choices at times. But I never thought it would end up like this. One brother trying to kill the other. Sometimes I wish that I had been killed in that explosion rather than Clint being hurt. It would be less painful." He swallowed hard, having never voiced that thought before. His body shook, uncertain of whether or not Isobel even cared.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to go through that."

Edan flashed her a small smile. "And then I found myself in this position. I always wanted love or nothing. I didn't want to be in a situation where I had to marry and produce an heir, so I was always grateful to be the youngest son. I'm certain that Zoelle and Clint love each other, but they didn't marry for love."

"But if you want love, why . . . ?" Isobel slumped back and turned her face away. "Because you don't have a choice. And I guess I'm better than nothing."

"It's not—"

"It is. You picked me because you thought it was a done deal. And you stayed with me because I'm here and you don't want to have to find someone else." She fixed him with a steady gaze. "Don't try to deny it."

He wanted to. He wasn't sure what the words he wanted to say were, though, so he sat back. "Anybody I pick will be in the same situation you are and I know that you and I get along well enough."

"You're rich. Why don't you just buy someone?"

Edan leaned forward. "Buy someone, huh? Okay. Name your price."

Isobel pressed her mouth shut tight.

"I can give you anything you want . . . Everything you want. Money is no object and you know that I'm willing to spend on you. So. Just name it, and it's yours."

He had meant to pull back but kept moving forward. His lips brushed hers, then pressed harder. Her lips were soft and luscious and he found them drawing him in deeper. He moaned as he teased her lips apart, his fires singeing through his blood, craving more . . .