Chapter 3
Lochlan
Lochlan groaned. His bed was wet and itchy, and a blinding light assaulted his eyelids. He remembered dancing, a blazing fire, and—
“Click-click-kra!” a crow screeched, scrambling his thoughts.
“I will use you in a damn potion if you don’t cease your jeering,” Lochlan snapped, his words slurred with sleepy irritation.
“Kra-kra!”
He opened his eyes to glare at the dark bird.
The sun hung low in the sky behind the creature and gray smoke rose in the distance. He could hear the sounds of birds and insects waking, which meant he’d never made it home last night, and this was not his bed.
“Shit, Jade.” He ran a hand across his face and discovered a braided rope wrapped around his palm. “What the—?”
“Jade?” a woman’s voice interrupted, husky with sleep.
The sound brought Lochlan an unexpected sense of relief.
He reached down, fingers brushing through her silky hair, and felt a sudden, fierce longing to stay like this forever.
Not that he could move, even if he’d wanted to.
Her warm body was draped over him, legs tangled with his, her bare stomach pressed against his side.
Bare.
Naked.
They were both naked.
Everything stilled around him; he didn’t even breathe as he realized his situation. Their situation.
Moaning rang in his memory, along with grinding bodies, and a desperate need for release. He put his weight on his elbows and looked down to find deep red hair. Tired green eyes blinked up at him.
It was Nia.
She had been using him as a pillow.
Her eyes widened and she scrambled back with a yelp, but didn’t get far. The rope still tied around their wrists snapped tight, yanking him forward. He hit the grass with a grunt, then pushed up onto his hands, dragging her part of the way back with him.
She landed face-first in his bare lap.
Lochlan went very still as his brain went blank and blood rushed south.
Ache bloomed, harsh and sudden—a reminder that he’d never found relief.
He hadn’t let himself. But now he hardened instantly, involuntarily, and completely inappropriately.
His body didn’t care. It knew exactly what it wanted, even as his mind scrambled to slam on the breaks.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted.
She jerked back. Darkness gathered around her and hid her naked body from him.
He blinked rapidly, desire battling with awe as he watched her magic come to life.
The dark shadows moved like smoke. It was mesmerizing.
Trailing petunia suddenly appeared alongside her shadows, the dark velvet petals and vibrant green leaves cocooning her chest and thighs.
“Stop it!” she snapped, attempting to shuffle farther away.
Her power sliced through the rope, then the flowers, giving him one more accidental view of her body before it vanished again in blossoms and darkness.
He caught a glimpse of faint fingermarks—almost certainly his fingermarks, he realized with a pang—bruising her hips.
Her voice echoed in his memory, low and breathless, begging him for more.
But he hadn’t let them go that far. They were too drunk.
He’d stopped, even when it nearly broke him.
Still… the way she’d wrapped her legs around him.
He hadn’t meant to leave marks. But seeing the evidence of their night while she looked so wounded filled him with uneasy doubt. “Leave me alone!”
“I’m not—” Lochlan stopped and couldn’t breathe past the pounding in his chest. He brought his right hand up: a thin wisp of darkness danced across his knuckles, twirled around his fingers, and twined with the rope still wrapped around his wrist.
It was a hand-fasting rope.
There were rumors of hasty marriages during supernatural events, but it was laughable to think that could happen to him.
“What the goddess is this?” Nia’s voice was edged with panic as she looked between him and the hand-fasting rope.
She had stopped struggling—whether from exhaustion or the weight of their intertwined magic, he wasn’t sure.
Her gaze burned into him, demanding answers he didn’t have. “Tell me we didn’t actually do this.”
“What’s mine is yours.” A memory flashed, filled with the sound of husky laughter and the taste of a sweet drink.
Oh fuck, he was married to Nia—practically a stranger. He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as his head throbbed. Hastily, he covered his front with his hands and turned his back to her, scanning the grass for his clothes.
She gasped and his skin prickled with heat. His hand shot to cover his ass, but it was a futile effort; his palm barely concealed one cheek. He could only imagine what she was seeing—and thinking. Unease flared in his chest, leaving him feeling more exposed than ever.
Did she notice the scars winding up from his ankles, fading as they reached his knees? Would she ask? Would she care?
The thought made his steps falter, and he nearly missed the scattered remains of a piece of clothing: his underwear.
A spot of denim caught his eye a few feet away, and he walked toward it, gathering his scattered belongings.
When he picked up a silky purple dress, he hesitated, then brought it to Nia with his eyes firmly shut.
“This can’t be happening,” she muttered, snatching the dress from his outstretched hand. He turned away to give her privacy, pulling his shirt on—inside out, of course.
“Wait,” she said, a note of accusation in her voice. “Are you a wood devil?”
Lochlan froze. He turned back to her, his shirt halfway over his face. “Wood devils don’t exist.”
“A wood devil would say that.” She rubbed her bare arms, shivering.
Without thinking, he gave her his jacket. “I’m a witch,” he said, his tone flat. “If you didn’t notice, my magic has mixed with yours. Which means—”
“Don’t say it.” She covered her face with both hands, stepping back. “If you say it, it’s real.”
Lochlan flinched. Would he ever get used to the sting of being unwanted?
“I’ll fix this,” he offered quietly.
“No, I will,” she snapped, then added under her breath, “I fix everything.”
She stormed off in the wrong direction, muttering curses to herself.
“The parking lot is this way,” he called, gesturing over his shoulder.
She grumbled something unintelligible but adjusted her path, trudging ahead without looking back.
They walked in silence. Now and then her eyes slid to his, lingering before looking away. Was she piecing together moments from last night, like he was?
It was blurred images, slurred conversations, and heated touches.
How did this happen?
“I’m Nia,” she blurted, stumbling. He reached for her instinctively, but she raised a hand to stop him.
“I’m Lochlan,” he offered.
“The Unwanted Heir?” she asked, her brows scrunching as if she’d expected someone different.
A flush climbed his neck, and he looked away, focusing on the path ahead.
The title would never leave him. Even after all these years carefully fading into the background, it still found him: a reminder of a past he had no control over and a kingdom that had begun to fall the moment the world learned he existed.
His mother had kept her pregnancy a secret.
After his birth, he’d been quietly placed in his father’s care, raised unseen among the castle’s staff.
He grew up never knowing he had a half-sister and brother—two children the queen had claimed and presented to the world while he remained hidden in the shadows.
Lochlan had been thirteen when his father died, leaving him alone with servants who had no idea what to do with a boy who was never meant to exist. Then one of them had talked.
One whisper turned into many, until the truth spread beyond the castle walls.
The scandal had been immediate, a wildfire that tore through the monarchy. The queen’s affair with a castle gardener, they’d called it. But his father had been far more than that. He was a powerful herb witch—his magic hidden, just like the child they had conceived.
Lochlan’s thoughts swirled through the dark memories until Nia broke the silence.
“I actually have experience with this kind of mess,” she said.
Lochlan grimaced. A mess. That’s what his mother had called him—a problem she’d tried to hide.
“Not for me,” Nia added quickly. “I would never get caught married.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Well… never again,” she muttered, waving a hand in the air. “Ugh, I need coffee and a lawyer.”
The mention of a lawyer made him think of Becket. Had he made it home safely? Lochlan would call him as soon as he found a charger and this was all sorted out. At least he would get a good laugh out of the situation.
Lochlan held a low branch up so Nia could duck under it safely.
She blinked up at him, her expression briefly thankful before shifting into frustration.
It was oddly endearing. The darkness that had clung to him moments ago loosened its grip, even as she grumbled about the mess they were in.
A mess. That’s what she’d called their predicament. Not him.
“Anyway,” she said, “someone I know got into a similar situation, and I was able to get her out of it easily. Half an hour of paperwork, and this whole thing will be annulled. Then we can just forget it ever happened.”
Forget it ever happened. He could never forget Nia, or the way it had felt to hold her in his arms, or the shape of her body beneath the stars. She was seared into his memory.
“Shit,” she said. They arrived at the parking lot and all that waited for them was his ancient truck. “I came with my partner.”
“Partner?” he asked, startled.
“My business partner,” she clarified. “And best friend.”
He nodded in understanding, breathing a little easier.
“I can drive us.” He gestured to the truck.
A question flashed in her eyes and he wished he had the courage to ask her what it was, what she felt, besides regret.
They got in, buckled their seatbelts, and when he turned the key, the engine roared to life.
Lochlan hesitated.
Though they’d just met, he already knew the ache of losing Nia to an annulment would haunt him forever.
He had finally mustered the courage to approach her before the liquor took over.
What if he hadn’t been derailed by Nancy?
Would he have woken up with a number in his phone and the possibility of getting to know Nia instead?
She turned to him with an awkward smile.
He was taking too long to leave, but putting the truck in drive would begin the process of saying goodbye.
What reason would she have to talk to him or seek him out when this was taken care of?
It felt like so many experiences he’d had before, and he wanted something different. Something new.
But that was impossible. Unless…
“Lochlan,” she said, quiet and pleading.
He wouldn’t get what he wanted today.
But at least she would.