Feral by Sheri Whitefeather Page B

to her surprise, the door opened and out walked her driver.
    “Hello, miss,” he said.
    She didn’t chide him for duping her. He was, after all, Noah’s loyal employee. Funny, too, because she didn’t even know his name, but now didn’t seem like the time to ask.
    “Good evening.” She tried to reply the way Beauty would. “As you can see, I’m still searching for my host.”
    “He requests your presence in the ballroom.”
    “Are you here to escort me?”
    “Sorry, no. I’m just the messenger.” He gestured for her to take the path from whence she’d come.
    Picking up her skirts, she returned to the interior of the castle. She’d agreed to this twisted fairy tale. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been forewarned.
    Would the ballroom doors be unlocked this time? Or was this another wild-goose chase? She tried the handles, and thankfully, they worked.
    Granting herself entrance, she marveled at the enchantment. Hundreds of white votives burned throughout the grand room, which was already glorified with a jewel-toned floor and stained-glass windows. In the center of it all, a crystal chandelier shined over a lone dining table.
    The table was set for two, and on one of the chairs was a delicate red rose. Clearly that was Beauty’s seat. But where was Beast?
    She lifted the flower and stroked its velvet-soft petals. Since the stem was about the right length to fit comfortably into her bodice, she tucked the rose between her breasts.
    As soon as it was secure, footsteps sounded behind her, creating a ghostly sound.
    She turned and saw Noah, who’d just entered the room, and her heart echoed the tap, tap, tap of his feet.
    Attired in a regal suit that she assumed was from the same era as her dress, he actually looked like a prince turned beast. His tawny-streaked hair was fastened into a ponytail. Or was it called a queue in those days? Whatever the terminology, it left the angles of his face unframed, making his shapeshifter features more pronounced.
    Jenny’s voice quavered. “I looked everywhere for you.”
    “I’m aware of how diligently you searched.”
    “I suspected that you were tracking me.”
    “I would’ve sent someone to retrieve you if you’d gotten lost. I wouldn’t have allowed you to wander the halls the entire night.” He angled his head. “Although I imagine it was starting to feel like forever to you.”
    Was he mocking her? Reminding her that he intended to live for an eternity, in spite of her interest in saving him?
    She responded, “Forever is a long time. Too long, I think.”
    He glanced at the rose between her breasts. “Not if it’s what someone has become accustomed to.”
    She fought a breath of desire. “Are we sparring already?”
    “So it seems.” He gestured to her place setting. “Shall we dine?”
    Jenny nodded. She was famished: for food, for him, for their strange evening to progress.
    He scooted in her chair, then sat across from her and said, “We’ll be having a five-course meal, prepared by a catering service that works regularly at castle events. I just need to let them know that my dinner companion has arrived.” He removed his cell phone from his jacket and punched out a text.
    “They’ve been waiting in the kitchen all this time?”
    “They knew when I hired them that this was a private masquerade.” He put his phone back. “Of course, they don’t have a clue that my costume is real.”
    She spread her napkin across her lap. The caterers didn’t know, but she certainly did.
    He reached for a bottle of cabernet sauvignon that was already on the table and poured it into their glasses. “This is from the year you were born.”
    She took a sip. “To reinforce how fragile my mortality is?”
    “Actually it’s just a nice vintage. But if you want to equate it with your fragility, who am I to argue?” He tasted his wine and offered her a slice of bread. It, too, was already on the table. “You look dazzling, by the way. I like that you chose the