Catch, Curse, Release (Immortal Warriors #1) ✅ Completed

Chapter Seven: An Unlikely Pep Talk

An Unlikely Pep Talk  

The estate was abuzz with activity. Wolfgard’s latest arrivals were causing quite the stir. The very idea of guests who were not looking to marry their lord was a welcome reprieve for everyone. Eric had not been the only person to grow weary of crying women and offended clan mates coming through the manor. The fact that their new guests were real human entertainers only intensified everyone’s excitement. A large feast was ordered, while every inch of the dining hall was scrubbed clean and decorated with the purple and gold colors of the McKenna clan.

The dining hall would be filled to capacity this evening and more than likely for every evening his guests remained. It was not everyday such visitors came through the far borderlands of Wolfgard. No one would dare miss a single night of fresh and real entertainment. Children, adults, warriors, all were excited for the evening’s possible festivities. It was all anyone could talk about as they went ahead with the feast preparations. Even the seasoned men, most warriors Eric had known his entire life, were as excited as the women and children – though not a single one would admit so outright.

Still, no one was happier than Eric himself. True, it was nice to have such unexpected company, but what really had him smiling was the fact that no one was asking him to consider their daughter or sister as his new wife. It was hard enough to reject the lasses, but doing so without causing a new war was tricky business. Such negotiations were costly and had taken their toll on everyone. Having a pair of humans turn up now was really rather lucky for him, the much needed entertainment would lift up the morale of the whole castle, himself included. 

For a brief moment, Eric had feared the human known as Desmond had come seeking a possible marriage with his sister. The very idea was absurd. A human could never be an immortal’s mate. It was true there were some ancient tales of such rare instances occurring, but that was before the fall of man. Now, humans were a weak and diminished race. To think one could be a mate for an immortal king was not only laughable, but highly reckless. Humans lived brief and maddeningly short lives. They were candle flames, flickering brightly and briefly before being extinguished as if by a harsh wind. A human was no mate for an immortal – especially not a soul-mate. Such a union would spell disaster for both parties and their clan.   

But thankfully, such a worry was not his concern tonight. Eric strolled through the castle happy with the progress of his staff. Everything would be ready for the feast tonight, and perhaps, if his new guests had rested enough, they would bless them with a performance this very night.

He headed to his room to get ready for the evening's festivities.

    

           

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Lori was a total wreck. Full night had fallen and she was making her way down the long corridor towards the dining hall. Technically speaking Desmond was dragging her most of the way as she was finding it difficult to stand upright. She was so nervous she could only take in the beauty of the castle in a glassy haze. Each room she moved through was little more than a blur, and when they reached the doorway that led into the great hall she felt a knot the size of Chicago form in her stomach as the chatter of people floated out the partially open doors.

No. Not people, she corrected. Immortals…a lot of them by the sounds of it.    

Her feet rooted themselves to the ground just a few inches from the entryway. She met Desmond’s eyes, one final plea on her lips. Before she could even get the first few words out Desmond bent his head down to her ear and whispered, “Don’t even waste that lovely breath of yours sweetheart. You’re going to walk in there, schmooze a little, meet your true love, and that’s that. ”

Lori shook her head. She felt like she was going to be sick. She was dizzy, her palms were all clammy and she’d broken out in a mild sweat. Good God, was she having a panic attack? No, surely panic attacks weren’t this strong. Maybe it was a mild heart attack?

“Be strong woman,” Desmond snapped disgustedly. He needed her to focus. She’d ruin everything if she went in there terrified of her very shadow. She was stronger than that; he only had to push her buttons to activate her inner pain-in-the-ass self. “Don’t get all weak-kneed on me now girl. What would your brother say if he saw you acting this way? Think he’d be proud that his baby sister couldn’t handle a simple dinner with a few strangers? Way to honor his memory, Lori.”

It was like watching a curtain being drawn Desmond thought, mildly fascinated. Lori stopped struggling almost instantly. She squared her shoulders and stood up to her full height. Two small dots of red colored her pale cheeks as she looked down her nose at him (not an easy feat given he was taller by a foot), and gave him one of the most murderous looks he’d ever received. That was really saying something as he’d been at the receiving end of those more times than he could count.   

“Never. Talk. About my brother. Again,” she forced each word through gritted teeth.

Oh yes. He had definitely pissed her off. “Fine, but you know I’m right. Michael would want you to show all those people in there what you're really made of. ” he replied, pushing one more button. Just a little bit further and he would have her.  

“You don’t know anything about Michael, so kindly shut the fuck up,” she said in a voice so cold and icy Desmond felt the chill of it on his skin.

“Fine. But you’re going in there, so long as we’re clear,” he said as he cocked his elbow out and turned to look straight ahead. Lori removed her deathlike grip on his arm, placing just her hand lightly on his elbow.

“Crystal. But if you ever talk about my brother again, there won’t be anything left of you to sweep through that arch of yours. You clear on that?” she breathed, her voice nothing more than a cold whisper.  

“Absolutely, princess.” His pep talk wasn't nice, but nice didn't win national championships. Just ask anyone in the state of Texas.

They made their way through the doorway together as one, Desmond looking gallant and mysterious in his black attire, while Lori looked proud and untouchable in her matching dress. The black satin material fit her like a glove and set off her luminous skin and glossy hair to perfection. Those What Not To Wear people had absolutely nothing on him. He was a demigod with an eye and the magic right at his fingertips.

Desmond smiled slightly, doing his best to suppress his glee. He knew exactly what kind of first impression she would make on the strong Lord McKenna – it would be an absolutely perfect one. He could almost feel his curse lift ever so slightly as they made their way inside.