Page 38 of The Unseelie Wish

Silently, Anfar walked to the point across from her on the table and sat.

And stared right back at her.

“We have much to discuss, you and I.” Anfar tilted his head, pondering her. “I wish to discuss the duke with you.”

“Why? As far as I can tell, you hate him.”

Reaching for the bottle of wine, he drank directly from it before plunking it back down onto the table in front of him. His next words struck her entirely dumb.

“It is difficult to hate one’s family, no matter how much they deserve it. Especially a son.”

Holy shit.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“I’m sorry, what?” Alex couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I am here to inspect his…prize.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Valroy tells me that the duke has given you his heart.”

“That’s been the topic of conversation lately, yeah.” She shook her head. “But back up. You’re his father? I thought—he keeps calling you Uncle.”

“To annoy me, which he enjoys. He needs no more inspiration to do anything save for whatever brings him amusement.” Lip curling in a moment of disgust, he took another gulp from the bottle of wine. “As I am sure you have discovered for yourself.”

“Yeah. That puts it lightly.” She frowned. “Why hasn’t he ever brought it up?”

“We do not raise our children the way you humans do. It is hardly a matter for much thought. And he prides himself on…well, himself.” Anfar lifted a single shoulder in a dismissive shrug.

“If it isn’t ‘a matter for much thought,’ then why are you here?” Wine wasn’t going to be strong enough for this conversation, she could tell already. Pushing up from the chair, she headed over to Izael’s bar. She made it exactly halfway there before she jerked to a sudden stop. It took her a second to realize why.

That fucking chain. It was invisible and she hadn’t even noticed its presence—right until it wanted to make itself known. Like it came out of nowhere, it was tethering her to the tree in the center of Izael’s home.

With a heavy sigh, she shut her eyes and fought the urge to scream.

“Here.”

Turning back to Anfar, she watched as he pulled an old-fashioned glass bottle from thin air and placed it on the table in front of her plate.

It was her turn to shrug. Heading back to the table, she sat and picked up the bottle. The glass was too dark to see the color of the liquid inside. Uncorking it, she sniffed the substance and winced as it stung her eyes. “What is this?”

“Stronger.”

He wasn’t a talkative man. Monster. Fae. Sea-beast. Thing. Whatever. But she wasn’t about to turn up her nose at a bottle of mystery alcohol. It was alcohol. Picking up an empty wine glass from the table, she poured some of the vaguely-amber liquid into a glass and sipped it.

“Fuck, it burns.” Coughing, she blinked as she teared up from the sear of the fae moonshine ran down her throat. After a breath, she took another sip.

Anfar smiled. Briefly. And it was small. But it was there, and she’d take it.

“So, who’s his mom?” Each consecutive sip of the booze burned less than the previous one. It tasted something like scotch, she decided. Peaty and earthy. It wasn’t bad, it was just a bit much. She’d have to take it slow.

“An ancient spirit from Patala, daughter to the Nagaraja.” At her blank expression, he sighed. “I met her in India. I was chasing a merchant ship. Our foray was brief, but apparently…effective. When I next returned to the mortal plane, I was presented with Izael, fully grown. He was raising chaos among the others in Patala. I was told to ‘take him home.’ And so, I did.”

“Huh.” She blinked. “So, he’s not fully fae?”

“He is. Our blood is dominant. One does not find half-breeds between our kind and others. You are either of us or you are not.” Anfar finished the bottle of wine and poured himself a glass of the substance he’d given her. That was fine. She’d probably die if she drank the whole thing on her own.

“I’d say that was probably why he was causing chaos, but…we’ve both met him. Dude could cause chaos at a meditation seminar.” Whatever that meant. Screw it. She was tired, stressed, sore, and there was booze.

There was that faint, short-lived smile again. “Indeed.”