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**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*

"If you are looking for your sister," Miss Tiffany Cotton said and effectively startled Lillian so much that she feared she may have wet herself just a tiny bit, "she will be in her husband's study."

Lillian eyed the mouse-ish woman warily as she closed the door to her private chambers. Freshly bathed and changed, she couldn't help but wonder if the odd thing had been waiting for her emergence all this time. "I would ask where the devil you came from, but I fear the answer may be obvious," she said flatly.

"Dorset, of course."

Wiping a hand over her cheek and allowing a shaky breath through her lips, Lillian managed to compose her wrecked nerves and silently lamented the day she was given a younger sister who harboured fanciful notions of befriending all of God's creatures, no matter how peculiar. To Miss Cotton, she directed her next words, "Dare I ask how you came about this information?" Glancing either way down the hall outside her rooms, Lillian began to move in the direction of the aforementioned study.

"I overheard the two Draëllian males talking of it some moments ago," Miss Cotton intoned introspectively. "I contemplated asking whether I was permitted to join, but naturally I am averse to hard liquor. So I found myself seeking out the privacy of my chambers before our evening meal."

Unsure what to do with that diatribe of information, Lillian offered her a small smile in lieu of her words. Miss Cotton nattered on about something to do with the fermentation process of all liquor before suddenly spinning on her heel and disappearing with nary a greeting.

Perhaps Miss Tiffany Cotton needed the services of a matchmaker, Lillian thought to herself. Surely Mrs Holt would be able to acquire a man or creature willing to endure her peculiar brand of loquaciousness? Perhaps one with an outwardly patient demeanour, a quiet bookish sort...

Or a deaf sort.

A flight of stairs to the lower levels of the house brought Lillian to the study that Miss Cotton had mentioned, and she hesitated momentarily at the rumble of voices coming from within. They were male yet indistinguishable to even her trained ear, and she became aware of the constant tremor of her fingers once more. Her jaw clenched in self-annoyance and Lillian set her shoulders resolutely.

She simply could not continue to avoid the males and the creatures her sister associated with because of her past experiences. She had stood her ground against more terrifying beasts and foes than gentrified men with tails, for goodness's sake.

She was the Ravensfield heir returned and survived ordeals that most would not, endured trials that would buckle the sturdiest of individuals. Years of grooming had ensured she knew how to manage her dukedom and its tenants, and do it well, and Lillian was damned if her sudden avoidance tendencies would afflict her composure if she could help it.

Swallowing, she forced her fingers to unclench and pushed open the door- perhaps a bit too harshly for the edge was met with a brutal resistance and rather organic obstacle that now barred her entry to the study.

A large, long-fingered hand caught the ridge of the door, holding it open in place, and Lillian's entire body froze- ensnared like a paltry piece of prey in the talons of predatory bird.

She knew immediately that the man before her was the one from earlier that had been loping with long-limbed grace along the gravel road. As far away from her as he had been then, she was able to discern that he was beautiful, but up close, with little more than a foot separating them- he was devastating.

The hand resting against the door belonged to a long arm dressed casually in a linen white shirt that had been rolled up to the elbows, leaving an expanse of corded flesh exposed to her gaze. Dustings of dark hair covered the top of his wrist, sparsely atop the bronzed skin of his forearm, and Lillian's stared lingered over those intricate details of him as if fascinated and mesmerized, until her gaze drifted further upwards to more intriguing sights. When she settled on his shoulders, she was mildly astonished to find how far she needed to tilt her chin up in order to examine him further as he simply towered over her. His shirt hung open at the neck leaving an alluring triangle of flesh exposed, the fine ridges of his collar bone and the tendons of his neck delineated and strong.

He had a face that was carved into clear lines that bordered on beautiful if it were not for the hardened edges of his jawline, brow and cheeks- but his attractiveness as a male would be difficult not to admire. One would have to be blind not to acknowledge just how simply marvellous he was to behold with eyes so deeply blue and a streamline nose with only a slight broadening at the bridge, hair so black it gleamed in the dim firelight of the chambers and cut unfashionably long and flyaway in such a manner that it almost made him seem boyish and frivolous.

Almost.

There was not an ounce of flesh on the being before her that was boyish.

He was all potently, virile male with wide shoulders and ridges of muscles that pressed against the fabric of the shirt that tauntingly hugged every delectable contour of his torso and flat abdomen.

There was no denying that her body had an instantaneous reaction to him that threatened to overwhelm her burgeoning terror, but right then she couldn't ascertain which she found more startling- the way her heart thrummed with urgent insistence or the manner in which his deeply blue eyes seemed to glisten with the bright glimmers of evening stars.

It was the darkening of his eyes as his pupils dilated that alerted Lillian to the change in his demeanour, the sudden shifting of his fingers as they dropped from the door and he took a tentative step closer to her so that she was suffused by his scent of spice and rain and pine and all things wonderful.

"My love," the stranger said suddenly, softly, in a voice that licked over her skin in an invisible caress.

"W-what?" His presence may be rendering her a halfwit, but she couldn't have become so discombobulated by his effect that her ears had failed to work correctly. Surely she had misheard and this male had not just endeared her to him? Immediately she tensed, more alert, and her brows snapped together.

"My love," he breathed again, this time a hand rising to splay those gracefully long fingers directly over his heart. "My soul, as I live and breathe, my eyes have never beheld such wonder as they do now, entranced, as I savour the sight of my one true love-"

"Uh..."

He made another step towards her and the attraction she had felt for him initially fizzled somewhat, her trepidation taking precedence as he began to encroach on her space.

"I think you must be mistaken," she told him with only a slight tremor in her voice. "Or foxed."

Behind them, from within the study, there was a curse and heavy footsteps began to approach.

"If I am mistaken then I do not wish to be right," the male declared boldly, his eyes boring into her with an intensity that made a shiver course over her spine. "And if I am drunk, then my senses have simply become overwrought at the sight of you, intoxicated by your presence alone. For that, I would gladly drink in the sight of you until all time stands still."

His fingers clenched slightly, twisting the fabric of his shirt as if to emphasize his words. Again, he moved closer to her and Lillian stiffened.

Before she knew what she was about, the small dagger she kept sheathed at her hip rested in her palm, the wicked tip pressed against his navel- firm enough to still his movements but not enough to draw blood or cause injury. His chin tilted down unto his chest as he eyed the obtrusion.

Even though her fingers and limbs were trembling, she was pleased to note the firmness of her voice. "I will not hesitate to gut you like a pig if you take one more step."

"What an animal I would be to die at your hands." His head angled upwards again and his gaze pummelled into her, so unwaveringly beautiful her heart almost ached for it.

"You are deluded," she hissed.

"He is enchanted, my lady," Rogane said suddenly from behind the male. "A harmless love potion- the effects will wear off shortly."

Lillian's gaze found the dark-haired Draëllian's and she glowered at him. Before she could lambast the lot of them, the man pontificating flowery words of besottedness dropped to his knees before her. "Enchanted by the vision before me," he breathed, looking up at her in such an adoring manner she found it difficult to reconcile the devotedness to the enchantment for just a moment. "Harmed by the unfathomable notion of love unrequited." His hand slapped against his chest again even as the dagger point trembled uncontrollably before his chin. "For what life would be worth living without the reciprocity of your love, sweet lady?"

"Get up!" Lillian ordered bluntly.

"I am your humble servant of love, supplicating myself before you. Use me, my dove, my pet, my evening star and new moon."

There was a faint snigger from behind him but Lillian glared at the other men in the room beyond this male, noting that the three Draëllians were all wearing equally unapologetic grins on their faces, and doing a poor job at hiding their amusement. It was blatantly obvious, to her at least, that this unknown male was but a victim of their tasteless machinations and, even though she was annoyed and vexed by the males words, she could hardly blame him for the magic that was controlling his actions.

The other three, however, would endure all hell as soon as this ordeal had passed.

"This is ridiculous," Lillian snapped. She tapped the shaking tip of her dagger to his chin once, indicating that he should rise. "I'll not use you, for anything, and you certainly do not love me, nor I you."

"Suitably wounded," the male gasped, another hand joining the other atop his heart. A genuinely stricken look came over her handsome countenance, but then a rather wicked grin curled his lips and dimpled his cheeks. "If it is love that does not please my lady, perhaps it will be the services of my body-"

"Oh, God, no-"

"I urge you, lady fair, to treat me as the treasure, and as my pirate queen, treat me as such-"

"Don't you dare say it!"

"Loot my body, fair angel!"

There was a guffaw from a corner that was promptly smothered and Rogane came forward quickly, forcibly taking the other man in hand and hauling him to his feet. "Enough of that, I think, lest we all lose our accounts this evening," he muttered, chagrined as he caught Lillian's furious gaze.

"Hark! Unhand me, you fiend, I have yet to be looted!"

He struggled against the other man's hold, straining towards Lillian almost desperately, and she could only watch in mild horror as a strange inertia took over her limbs. She knew she should leave, that the male was restrained and Rogane was providing her the exit she needed to retreat to safety, but for all his blunder, all his eagerness, she did not feel... endangered.

Intrinsically, she knew the enchantment controlled the male's actions yet at the same time she instinctually felt that she was perfectly safe with him, even as he was right then, and that unnerved her.

"What is all the commotion about?" Millie, Lillian's younger sister, suddenly enquired from behind her and then stepped into the room. Her shoulders stiffened when her eyes flittered from Lillian to the struggling male in Rogane's arms. "Oh. Oh no." She turned to Lillian, her Arctic blue eyes searching her features almost urgently as if ascertaining that she was unharmed. "Are you well, Lillian? Did Aëghan accost you? I was sure that he would not be able to encounter you-"

Aëghan? She knew of the name, but her mental picture of the Dravolese male had never conjured the intensely beautiful male desperately trying to reach her now. Regardless, she felt her brows furrow for before her was the male that had abducted her sister, placed her through an ordeal that nearly ended her life, and then magically healed her husband a few weeks prior.

He was an unpredictable enigma, treated with wariness and barely tolerated guest due to the favour he bestowed on her sister and her husband.

He was the last male in all of England she wanted to associate with, least of all acknowledge the stirrings of awareness shifting through her at the sight of him. Lillian dropped her hand that had still been hovering in the air, the dagger reverberating with the tremors that afflicted her fingers, and she quickly sheathed the weapon, hoping her actions went unnoticed.

"I am fine," she clipped.

"I was under the impression that he would be kept away from my sister," Millie said to Rogane.

Aëghan appeared to have quietened, yet his entire body remain posed and strained towards Lillian- a stance that she was poignantly aware of. Even though she knew it was the effects of the enchantment, no man had ever regarded her with such an intense fascination and longing before.

"A minor incident," Rogane admitted with a cautious glance at Aëghan. "We could hardly anticipate their every action and movement throughout every day. The love potion was administered under the pretense that they wouldn't make each other's acquaintance today."

"You have been coordinating it so that I never meet with him?" Lillian demanded of Millie. She folded her arms under her breasts and turned to frown at her sister. They were remarkably similar in appearance, sharing the same colouring and features, but it was often said that Lillian was the colder of the two, the more stoic and standoffish. Her foray into another world had meant that most of time had been spent outdoors, darkening her complexion and lightening her hair- subtle differences that now separated her from resembling too much of her younger sister. "Why?"

Millie pursed her lips, a small sigh of resignation escaping her as she plunked her hands on her hips and surveyed the room briefly to ascertain its occupants.

"I assume it is because they anticipate my actions may not be savoury towards you," Aëghan said before any of them could. Lillian glanced at him sharply as he yanked his shoulder free of Rogane's grasp and brushed his shirt smooth of wrinkles with an expression of distaste, as if the other man had sullied his clothes just by being in proximity to him.

Though some of the intensity lingered, it was easy to see that most of the edge had worn off and he no longer suffered the effects of the enchantment.

"Are they?" The question slipped from her lips before she could stop them.

His eyes, less dark now though equally as beautiful and glimmering, considered her unwaveringly for a long moment. Tension flickered between them, invisible and charged, and she quelled the nervous urge to rub the tops of her arms, instead compelling her features to reveal nothing of the effect he was having on her.

Impervious and cool.

Then he shifted and the intensity vanished with a suave, unfazed grin that dimpled his cheeks and glistened his eyes. "My intentions are hardly ever savoury, my lady," he intoned wryly, slowly taking a few steps towards her. "Though I would be remiss if I did not mention that I was not myself earlier, and that is not the sort of unsavoury actions I would normally subject." He stopped short before her, his hand extending forward in a gesture of amiability and respect, and she studied it for a moment before offering her own. His fingers swallowed her flesh, warm and firm, the contact startling her with the charged feel of him. "The slow-minded pranks of these buffoons needn't hinder our acquaintanceship from moving forward, I hope-"

Suddenly, his words broke off and his smile dropped from his lips. His gaze riveted on where his hand grasped hers, a frown lining his exquisite brow, and then he snapped up to study her face. The levity of his mood had disappeared within a mere second and instead a look of something close to horror crept over him.

"I beg your pardon," he whispered fiercely, "I must go." And he released her, pushing past her and from the room.

Lillian ushered a breath, unaware that she had been holding it for the duration of their interaction, and quickly tucked the hand he had grasped close to her body once more.

"Well, that was odd," Millie mused, studying the empty hallway behind them with a thoughtful frown. "Well, odder than normal for Aëghan."

"Was it?" Lillian wondered aloud. Her sister turned back to her with a cheerful shrug, coming further into the room.

"Who's to say?" She halted before Rogane and without blinking promptly slapped him across the shoulder. "And you three- what the hell were you thinking? I would expect nothing less of the twins, but I would never have thought you capable of something so infantile, Rogs."

"Ouch," he grumbled. "I didn't think it the best of ideas and tried to talk Cal out of it. But you know how Aëghan can be..."

Millie harrumphed.

Perhaps she was still reeling from her encounter with the mysterious Dravolese that had such an astonishing effect on her that she couldn't quell the next words that left her lips, or perhaps it was all her father's lessons finally resurfacing to impact her rule once more in Ravensfield, but Lillian felt her anger bristle.

Since she had returned to Ravensfield, she had been careful with her words, careful with her sentiments whenever in the presence of the Draëllians, but the incident that afternoon made her spine stiffen and her resolve snap into place with a severity that she knew wouldn't be taken favourably.

But her duty was protect her family and lineage, to ensure means of prosperity and continuance of the Ravensfield name- not to be liked.

"Have none of your learned from the last instance when an enchantment was brought into this house?" she railed, her voice taut with restrained anger and commanded the attention of all the occupants. Perhaps the barbs were directed more at her own folly for her own involvement in the circumstances that had gotten Blayne Leowyn injured, Lillian couldn't be certain just then. "We have endured enough, all of us, to endure yet more behaviour that frankly smarts of idiocy. I'll not tolerate humiliation, in any disguise, upon another- and certainly not in Ravensfield."

Lillian pivoted and flounced from the room, Millie at her heels. "Lillian, wait!"

"Millie, grant me this evening- I beg of you. I'll dine alone tonight, and seek you out in the morning, but for now I require my solitude."

Ignoring the look of worry and contrition on her sister's face, Lillian continued away from the study towards her private chambers. Her body shook with every step and with it more frustration and anger continued to roil through her.

Was this to be her life- every encounter and emotion charged with nerves and tremors that were becoming increasingly difficult to hide? Resentment threatened to choke her as anguished tears burned her eyes. She refused to allow them to fall, blinking wildly, sure in the knowledge that her weaknesses were her burdens to bear.

In the sanctity of her chambers, she threw open the window to her bedroom to allow the cold wind to settle the furore of her tumultuous emotions. She felt helpless- unable to control or coordinate the relentless movements of her fingers, the wild surges of her trepidation whenever she encountered one of the faeborn. No matter how often the

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