Heart Search by Robin D. Owens Page B

GreatMistrys Hawthorn stole your HeartGift.”

Eight
     
    E motions wrenched through Laev at the words no one had ever spoken aloud. His head went light even as he shuddered at flashing scenes of the past laden with emotion—his Passage at seventeen, sensing the girl he thought was his HeartMate, wooing her, giving her his HeartGift, claiming her, wedding her . . . then the awful discovery that she wasn’t the one for him. That she’d lied and deceived him.
    His scalp prickled with sweat.
    “Tough situation,” Primross said, still staring at the hills in the distance, and Laev knew the man had followed his history just as he himself had. Everyone knew he’d thought Nivea was his HeartMate when he’d wed her.
    “My wife and I were estranged for the last seven years of her life,” Laev said.
    “Separate suites?”
    “Yes.”
    “The Residence didn’t like her, I guess. That must have been hard on her, too.”
    “Yes,” Laev said. He pulled in a deep breath, let it cleanse the depths of his lungs. The past was gone. He’d say what was necessary to Primross, then leave it to collect dust again. “I didn’t discover Nivea was disposing of Hawthorn items until I read my FatherSire’s Family journal after his death.”
    “A shock,” Primross said.
    “Yes,” Laev said.
    “Tell me of this HeartGift.”
    “As usual, I made it during my Second Passage at seventeen. I sculpt.”
    “Sculpt?”
    “My HeartGift is a sculpture of the Lady and Lord embracing.”
    Primross’s brows went up. “The Lady and Lord embracing.”
    Laev slanted him a look. “Not intimately. Arms around each other’s waists. Both with one foot stepping forward as if ready to dance.” He smiled. “Both clothed.”
    “What material is the statue made of?”
    “Marble. A very unique chunk.” Laev vaguely recalled creating it through the haze of the Passage fever dreams. “Part was brownish with brown veins, the other more pinkish.”
    “Ah. The Lord a different color than the Lady?”
    “Yes. That’s what the piece of marble felt like in my hands. That’s what I saw in my mind when I picked the stone up for the first time.” He pulled out the tiny gold acorn and handed it to the private investigator. “I carved a pedestal under the couple and edged it in gold—acorns for my Oak heritage, Hawthorn blossoms, and leaves for my Grove ancestry. This is one of the acorns.”
    “Where did you find it?” asked Primross, setting the small bit on his palm and angling his hand so it wobbled back and forth. The way his nostrils widened and his mouth opened slightly, Laev thought that the man was using all his Flair to sense the essence of the piece. Which was, of course, mostly Laev’s essence at seventeen—and whatever smudges from others it had picked up in the years since.
    Laev had given his HeartGift to Nivea to claim her as was Celtan law, before they’d married. Before they’d had sex—well, he’d been making love and she’d been having sex.
    I found the acorn! Brazos surged out of the high grass and pounced on Primross’s boots. I found it .
    Primross lifted his brows at the cat. “Young and sturdy tomcat.”
    “Yes.”
    “All black,” Primross said.
    “A blessed cat,” Laev said.
    I am BRAZOS HAWTHORN.
    “Loud, too.” A smile lurked on Primross’s mouth. He jiggled his feet a bit and the Fam followed the movement and continued the attack. Now Primross smiled, easily, sincerely. “A real warrior.”
    “Yessss,” Brazos hissed.
    “Yes,” Laev said at the same time. “I am lucky to have him.”
    Primross’s expression soured. “FirstFamilies lords and ladies often get Fams.”
    “This one arrived as a present from my FatherSire’s old Fam. An indiscretion.” Laev shuffled his feet and Brazos pounced again, trying to sink a tooth into the smooth and expensive leather. “He has no pedigree.” He laughed.
    Primross’s gaze slid toward Laev. The detective tossed the small gleaming acorn in the air, caught