Magical Mistakes(19)
Ciar paused, thinking of the years he’d spent wishing for just that future.
“This is our second chance, Ciar,” she said. “I know I screwed up the first time but I swear to you, I won’t repeat my mistakes.”
“A second chance,” he mused. “Perhaps it’s not one I want.”
A knowing smile curved her lips, one that said no man would ever turn down an opportunity to be with her. The smile irritated him. It was too knowing. Too self-assured.
Worst of all, it wasn’t Mikayla’s.
“Hell,” he swore, dragging a hand down his face. The witch had really done a number on him if he was thinking of her while looking at the woman he had once thought to spend his life with.
“Don’t you remember how it was with us?” Alina continued. “For years it has been your face I see in my dreams at night. Not Teivel’s.”
“You did that to us, Alina. Not I.”
She stepped closer again. “Fate brought us back together. Do you not even want to find out why?”
He dodged her when she reached for him again. “I like this world. I have a life here. It’s not one you fit into.”
“This isn’t your home. Come back with me, Ciar.”
For a moment he thought about the realm he’d left behind so many years ago. It was a dark, violent place, but despite its faults, there were spots of wondrous beauty. He’d lived centuries there and when he’d left, he hadn’t known how he would survive cut off from his own.
But survive he did in this chaotic, loud, brash world. He’d traveled the globe and found places he enjoyed. Never somewhere to belong, though. Not until he’d come to this city six months ago and seen a witch across a crowded bar.
Alina was his past. Mikayla, his present.
Which woman would be his future?
“Stay here,” he ordered her. He saw the surprise in her eyes as he strode from the room but didn’t pause.
He needed answers and there was only one person who could give them to him.
* * * * *
Mikayla grabbed the blue sheets on her bed and ripped them off the mattress, tossing them into the waiting pile of laundry.
His fiancée. Ciar had a damn fiancée. And she’d never known. She didn’t know anything about her lover. Not really. And when she’d had the chance to start learning more, a beautiful fiancée showed up.
Just her freaking luck.
Mikayla balled the pillowcase in her hands with vicious glee. It wasn’t like she could blame anyone but herself. She’d asked her sisters to help. Hell, Alina probably was the key to freeing Ciar. She should be rejoicing. But the other woman’s presence meant only one thing, that she was about to lose her lover.
“Cleaning?” a gruff voice asked.
Mikayla dropped the sheet and whirled to face the doorway. Ciar leaned against the frame, watching her.
“Hey,” she said, her heart thundering at the sight of him.
He pushed himself off the wall before sauntering into her room. His eyes flickered over the stripped bed before coming back to her. “You owe me some explanations.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I do.”
Ciar prowled closer to her, stepping over the soiled sheets without ever looking away from her.
“I didn’t know you’d been engaged.” The words were out before she could call them back.
His smile held no humor. “It’s not a happy chapter of my life.”
“Alina’s beautiful,” she said with a shrug. Surely any man would be happy with that woman as his wife.
Ciar moved to her side, wrapping a hand around her waist. When he touched her, his face relaxed as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “For decades that was the only thing I noticed about her.”
“What changed?”
He shook his head. “She proved what sort of demon she truly was. In my world, Mikayla, power means everything. She found a man who had more of it to offer than I.”
She cupped his face between her palms. “Idiot woman.”
Ciar leaned forward and drew his lips along hers in a teasing touch. “Why is she here?”
“I thought she could help us break the spell.”
He moved back slightly. “Demon magic is not the same as witch magic. They aren’t compatible.”
“That’s not why we need her.”
“Then why? Help me understand this, Mikayla.”
She opened her mouth to explain about the spell before snapping it shut. She’d planned on telling him everything, truly she had, but standing here before him she wondered for the first time if that was the worst thing she could do. Ciar was a warrior. He fought to control his own fate. If she told him he was forced to fall in love, he’d resist with everything he had.