4
EVIE
I was slow to emerge from the cottage this morning. Idris wasn’t the only one having nightmares again.
The smaller dwelling was across from the main house where Mena lived, the sprawling gardens separating the two buildings. My cottage had a large bedroom, a bathroom, a spare room I used for my magickal workings, a living area, and a tasteful kitchen. I’d taken great care in filling the place with warm lights, plush furniture, and personal touches that made the environment cozy and inviting. My space was an extension of myself, from the fresh springtime scented candles, the chunky throw blankets, the dried bunches of flowers and herbs, and the pops of soft pastels. I woke up every day grateful that the fates had been so extraordinarily generous with me. Even if I probably didn’t deserve it.
It was just Mena and me now, as Idris had decided to live on campus. I admired his bravery. Change and I had a complicated relationship.
Mena came from a long line of human scholars, tracing back to co-founders of the university itself. She’d decided not to marry or have biological children of her own, much to her now-deceased parents’ displeasure. She’d always been the type to shun tradition, preferring instead to live a life worthy of the most riveting stories and endless anecdotes, a different kind of eternal legacy.
Even still, it was clear that Mena had needed Idris and me as much as we’d needed her.
A memory flashed in my mind before I could stop it.
My limbs screamed in pain. Idris was in my arms, too tired to walk any longer. He was heavy, and I felt so weak. But we had to keep going. Had to keep moving. My black dress clung to my skin with sweat and ? —
The cottage door slammed shut behind me, and I cleared my head with a deep breath and a short chant for forgetting.
I was so disoriented that I nearly tripped over the package at my feet. It was a pretty blush color, similar to the dress I’d worn yesterday when I’d met that strange, tall man with black hair and deep blue eyes. His devastatingly beautiful, masculine features were imprinted in my mind, and that made me feel guilty as hell. I needed to stop thinking about that defined, wide jaw. Those taunting, smirking lips. The way his gaze pierced straight through me, as if we’d already met countless times before—as if I meant something to him, somehow. Men like him were dangerous, scheming creatures. Especially ones with a fixation on Rune and Valentin’s war against the born.
I was glaring down at the package now, lost in a daze of irritation. How dare he call me angel or princess as if we were lovers. As if he even knew me. And worse than his teasing words and abrupt departure in the middle of our conversation—why in the hell had I initiated that second encounter in the first place?
Oh, gods. Maybe he was an incubus—a sex demon. Yep, that explanation made a whole lot of sense. Even more reason to hope I never saw him again.
I picked up the small package, fingering the pretty pink bow tied perfectly neat. I knew who it was from, and nervous butterflies bloomed in my stomach. It was strange for him to leave it outside the cottage rather than giving it to me in person, especially since he hadn’t seen me in weeks. But he also never surprised me with gifts, so perhaps this was something special.
Maybe his travels had changed him. Maybe he’d missed me terribly, and he wanted to show me how much I meant to him with a series of romantic gestures and time together. That thought seeded beautiful, warm hope in my veins as I walked through the gardens.
I joined Mena for breakfast most mornings, except when I overslept and needed to rush to Celeste’s with the new supply. Celeste’s was a flower shop that doubled as a witch supply store—the biggest and most renowned in the city. I sold both floral and herbal goods from my garden, each with their own unique witchy twist.
Today was a crafting day for me, though, not a sales day. I might even take the day off. That way I could enjoy a long breakfast with Mena before my boyfriend, Jacob, made himself known.
Mena was already sitting at the head of the dining room table when I arrived at the main house. She was reading a local gossip pamphlet as she sipped on coffee and picked at a plate of toast and eggs.
“Evie, darling, did you know about this?” Mena asked without looking up.
Even in her late sixties, she was the most fashionable, chic woman I’d ever met. Today’s outfit was a leopard print blouse, a chunky gold and ruby necklace, and dark pants. Her silver hair was pulled back with an ornate hair clip adorned with tiny golden butterflies.
“University administrators are in heated discussions with Lord Conrad about free speech ordinances in Etherdale. The born want to do away with all vampire-free zones on campus too, I’m afraid. There’s talk of banning books, outlawing certain classes and discussion topics. It’s madness. They’ll never allow it.”
My first thought was Idris as my stomach soured. My second thought was of that black-haired male sex demon reading a book that would most certainly be the first to burn.
When I said nothing, Mena looked up for the first time. Eyeing my mysterious package, she set down the pamphlet and clapped her hands together. “Oh! A gift! Please tell me it’s from a new , exciting suitor.”
I rolled my eyes. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”
Mena pursed her lips, brows raised high. “Hard to remember someone so dull.”
“Everyone is dull to you,” I muttered.
“No, only dull people are dull,” she said. “High standards are not a flaw, my dear. They guarantee a life worth living.” She spread her arms out wide before gesturing to the box again with a twirl of her wrist. “Come on, then. Let’s see what’s inside.”
I laughed as I shook my head. I delicately untied the perfect pink bow, letting the ribbon fall to the sleek wooden table. Then, sliding a finger under the seam in the pretty pink paper, I removed the wrapping to reveal a book in perfect, new condition.
Not just any book. The new fantasy romance book I’d been eyeing for weeks.
I’d been spending all my spare earnings lately on more witchy supplies, as well as saving for a new dream project I’d yet to tell anyone about. I’d resigned to waiting a bit longer before I could splurge on new books for myself.
I grinned. I wondered how in the world Jacob knew I’d wanted this one so badly.
“Is there a note?” Mena asked, the same excitement in her voice as when she spilled juicy Etherdale gossip.
I flipped open the front cover and flipped through the first few pages, then glanced down at the wrapping, looking for any sign of a note I might have missed. “No,” I said with a shrug before finally sitting next to her and taking a sip of the coffee Mena had already poured for me.
I knew coffee didn’t work instantly, but gods, it felt like the warmest shot of happiness had already settled in my veins as soon as the divine liquid touched my tongue.
“No note makes it more mysterious, I suppose.”
Mena lifted a single brow as she eyed me. “I’m unconvinced that man knows how to be mysterious .”
As if on cue, a resounding knock sounded from the front door.
I gulped down more coffee before rising and going to the front door, ignoring Mena’s typical anti-man rhetoric.
I opened the door to find Jacob with his hands in his pockets. He wore a cream button-down shirt and navy pants. His spiky blond hair was shorter than before, and the sprinkle of freckles around his strong nose a shade darker.
“I’m back,” he said before leaning in and kissing me, the action brief and chaste.
As always, his handsomeness stunned me for a moment. His disarming grin was wide as ever.
To be honest, I’d been hurt when he’d announced his travel plans after he finished his university studies in business management. It was a sudden declaration, and he left a week later, even though he’d clearly been planning the adventure for a while. He never once asked if I wanted to join him.
I wouldn’t have gone, but he didn’t know that. There was a lot he didn’t know about me. It was safer for everyone that way.
I smiled. Before I could speak, I heard Mena mutter, “Clearly,” from behind me.
“How was it?” I asked, ignoring Mena and hoping Jacob hadn’t heard her. I reminded myself how lucky I was to have someone like Jacob in my life. How much I wanted him in my life.
He trailed a hand down my shoulder before waltzing inside. “It was a dream. I met the most interesting people. The food, the natural landscape… gods, the countryside was especially beautiful. Even if the people there were pretty backward.” He scrunched up his face with derision as he joined us at the dining room table, as if remembering the people he’d found distasteful.
I swallowed. Hard. Yes, it would’ve been a terrible idea to have joined him.
Mena’s reading glasses were low on her nose, her lips turned down as she leveled her narrowed gaze on Jacob.
I cringed when he barely greeted Mena, only continuing to speak without pause for several minutes.
I could sense Mena’s patience wearing thin. I wished she saw the good parts of him, rather than his innocent character flaws. He didn’t mean to be so un-self-aware. He was just excited about his adventures, always trying to prove to the world he was more than a cutthroat businessman born to a long line of the same. He wanted to show that he had depth, that there was meaning to his actions and dreams. I loved that about him. His insecurities and earnestness were beautifully human and pure.
My muscles were tense when he finally halted his animated recount of his journey and eyed the fantasy novel lying on top of the wrapping paper in the center of the table.
I opened my mouth to thank him, but he spoke before I could.
“What’s this?” He grabbed the book and flipped it over, skimming the description. He shook his head and sighed. The curve of his smirk deflated something inside me. “Another pornographic faerie novel, I’m sure.”
Mena’s eyes darted to mine, her frown quickly transforming into the most mischievous of smiles.
She raised her coffee mug. “To a most joyous homecoming,” she declared with a wink.
Jacob placed the novel back down and didn’t mention it again, as if he didn’t care enough about who had given it to me or why.
I sipped my coffee, attempting not to wear my mounting disappointment on my face. That would only irritate Jacob and make it all worse. I wanted things to be good between us. I wanted to feel what I’d felt before. I wanted to feel what the characters of my favorite novels felt—that undeniable soulmate love.
But maybe Idris was right, and that was just another childish yearning that didn’t fit into reality.
I chased eggs around with my fork, distracting myself from the lump in my throat with a single burning question.
If Jacob hadn’t gifted me the book, then who had?