Chapter 1
Chapter One
The Christmas fair was unusually lively this year.
Kit wandered through it aimlessly, letting his eyes drift over the bustling stalls as he tried to soak in some holiday cheer. Everywhere he turned, people were grinning, laughing, and talking with bright animation.
His gaze lingered on a young couple walking in front of him. Their fingers were intertwined, their eyes only on each other. A twist of envy curled in his chest before he could stop it.
Pursing his lips, Kit looked away.
God, he wasn’t this bitter, jealous person. Or he hadn’t been, once.
But surrounded by all this effortless joy, he couldn’t help the creeping envy, the sense that he was the only lonely, miserable person in a sea of happiness.
He was just thirty-six, for god’s sake; hardly on his deathbed. It was ridiculous to feel like he was destined to remain a lonely loser for the rest of his life just because he was single, friendless, stuck in a mind-numbing job, and had no real prospects—
On second thought, he was entirely justified in thinking that.
Kit smiled humorlessly. He hadn’t even gone to his high-school reunion a few months ago; he couldn’t bear the thought of his classmates seeing how utterly mediocre and pathetic his life was.
They all seemed to have amazing careers and amazing families.
He was the only one with neither. The only one with nothing.
“Watch where you’re going!” a cranky voice said.
“I’m sorry,” Kit said, snapping back to the present when he realized he’d nearly crashed into someone.
That someone was an old woman wrapped in a strange, old-fashioned cloak, like she’d stepped out of another century.
She looked at Kit with a distracted scowl on her face before pausing and giving him a longer look. Her face softened. Her weathered hand reached out and touched Kit’s. “Your life is not worthless, dear,” she said, squeezing his hand.
Kit blinked at her. He wasn’t accustomed to strangers touching him, but something about this woman made her touch all right rather than intrusive. And her words... How did she know what he had been thinking about?
Unless...
Kit looked at the woman more closely. Her clothes were odd, but they didn’t scream “witch.” Not that he’d ever met a witch in real life before, but the ones he’d seen on the TV looked more.
.. exotic. This old woman looked nothing like the sleek, intimidating witches from the prestigious covens he’d seen on the news.
The woman snorted. “Don’t believe everything you see on the TV, young man.”
Okay. Mind-reading. Check. Definitely a witch.
Or some other supernatural being with telepathic powers.
It wasn’t as though Kit was an expert. Everything he knew about the supernatural came from books and the news.
The closest brush with the supernatural world he’d had was last year, when the Eastern European coven messed up their magic and half of North America ended up affected by a soulmate spell.
Not the city Kit lived in, though. It was actually pretty funny—or sad—that the spell’s influence had stopped barely a hundred miles away.
It would have been nice to find his soulmate that way, but alas.
No convenient soulmate spells for him to fix his nonexistent love life.
“If your nonexistent love life is the reason you’re stinking up the air with your misery, it’s nothing a love potion can’t fix,” the witch said, before smirking. “For a price, obviously.”
Kit smiled crookedly. “No, thanks. Merry Christmas to you, ma’am.” He started turning away, but a hand on his arm stopped him. It was surprisingly strong for such a tiny old woman.
“Perhaps I can offer you something else,” she said.
Kit looked at her with a frown. He really didn’t want to be rude, but—
“A second chance,” she said.
Kit paused. “What?”
Her pale eyes seemed to bore right into his soul. “A second chance to fix the greatest regret of your life. To change the past.”
Kit stared at her before he forced a laugh through his throat. “Even if it were possible—”
“It is.”
“Even if it were possible, I’m sure it’d cost me a small fortune—a fortune I most definitely don’t have.” Kit gave her a brittle smile. “But thank you anyway. It means a lot that you...” That you noticed how unhappy I am. That I wasn’t invisible to you.
Kit didn’t say it aloud—couldn’t—but maybe he didn’t need to. The old woman’s expression was full of understanding. At least, that was how he chose to read it, rather than as pity.
“You are right,” she said. “Normally, magic like that would cost you more than you could ever afford. But I wonder...” She seemed thoughtful for a moment before reaching into her bag and pulling out a small leather book. She handed it to him.
Kit eyed it suspiciously. “What is it?” He couldn’t read the book’s title—and not because it was in another language, not that he could tell for sure. Every time he tried to read it, his eyes were unable to focus on it.
The old witch smiled. “A magical book,” she said, not without humor. “A book that can change your life.”
“Right,” Kit said with a laugh, not bothering to hide his skepticism. “And you’re giving it to me free of charge?”
She didn’t laugh. Her pale eyes remained serious. “Consider it my good deed for the year. A Christmas gift, if you will.”
“Right,” Kit said, more unsettled by the possibility that it was a genuine gift than by the thought that it was some kind of scam. “Because it’s totally normal to give strangers gifts.”
She smiled, the smile sad and her gaze faraway. “Maybe it should be. Kindness costs us nothing.”
Kit looked down at the strange book in his hand. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”
“If you use it as intended, the book will return to me afterward,” she said with a shrug. “And even if you don’t, I have no use for it. I have lived a long, full life, and I regret nothing.” Her expression became sharper as her eyes focused on Kit’s face. “I can’t say the same about you, dear.”
Kit swallowed.
He looked down at the book in his hand, hesitating over whether he should accept the strange gift or not, but by the time he lifted his head again, the woman was already gone.
Frowning, Kit looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen, as if she had been a figment of his imagination.
But the book in his hand definitely wasn’t imaginary. It felt oddly warm to the touch.
Kit stroked its spine apprehensively, debating whether he should just toss it into the nearest trash bin. It could be dangerous. It probably was dangerous. And yet… something stopped him.
His apartment was dark and cold when Kit returned. God, a place this small shouldn’t have been so drafty. The chill made him reluctant to take off his jacket.
Deciding to keep it on a little longer—not that anyone was around to care—Kit sank into the armchair by his Christmas tree and opened the book.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected.
But it was blank.
Kit let out a strangled laugh. All that suspense—for a notebook? Sure, it was old, but it was still just a notebook. The old woman had to be messing with him.
Oh, well. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The notebook could still be useful. It wasn’t as though he was swimming in gifts—it was probably the only one he’d get this Christmas.
The thought left a hollow twist in his stomach.
At thirty-six, Kit wasn’t particularly close to his parents anymore, having moved away to another town, and he didn’t have close friends who would want to give him Christmas presents.
All he had was his mid-level management job at a store.
It was fine. He wasn’t depressed or anything.
His life was rather dull and empty, but.
.. He wasn’t unhappy, per se. He just couldn’t say he was happy, either. It was fine. Really.
The notebook under his hand warmed.
Frowning, Kit looked back down at it and went still.
The page was no longer blank.
Reveal thy deepest regret, and it shall be undone. Yet thy pride shall be the price thereof.
Kit stared at it with wide eyes.
It really was a magic book! A book that promised to fix his deepest regret at the expense of his pride.
Kit chewed on his lip. The smart move was probably burning the damn thing. First rule of dealing with supernatural objects: never trust them. Even he knew that.
But.
Kit looked around his empty apartment, at the sad little Christmas tree no one was going to see but him, at the lonely single coffee cup on his kitchen table.
He looked back at the book in his hands.
Even if it was malicious, what could it do to him?
Make him a little more miserable than he already was?
Make him lose friends he didn’t have in the first place?
The sad truth was, if Kit disappeared today, no one would notice or care.
It would take his parents months to notice that he hadn’t messaged in a while. He had nothing to lose. No one to lose.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d gain something.
Kit stared at the words again and thought about it.
About his deepest regret.
He didn’t have to think hard.
Kit had never been in love. Correction: he’d never been in love with someone who returned his feelings. He had been in love once—or at least as close as you could be to in love with someone without ever touching them.
In his teenage years, while all his classmates seemed to be finding high-school sweethearts, Kit had remained single. He’d been a little disappointed by his lack of a love life, but he’d figured he’d find someone in college.
But in college… there had been only one man he’d truly been obsessed with. A completely unsuitable man. And a completely unsuitable love. It had been hopeless—or so he’d told himself.
What if he’d been braver, taken the very real risk of rejection, and gone for it? How would his life have turned out?
Kit stared at the book for a long moment. Then he reached for his pen.
The words he wrote faded almost immediately, as if the book absorbed them. Then, the page became warmer. Something rippled through the book, and a pulling sensation gripped his chest, as if it were sucking the very soul from him.
Kit gasped, fear prickling through him. Full of second thoughts, he tried to let go of the book—but it wouldn’t budge. The damn thing felt glued to his hands. Or maybe his hands simply refused to obey his brain.
He was paralyzed, only able to watch, gasping in horror as the world around him began to fade. As if he were a ghost, not a person.
The next thing he knew, everything went dark.
Just before consciousness slipped away, a memory rose unbidden to the surface.
EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO
Kit laughed with his new friend Gary as they walked into History 101. They’d met at freshman orientation just a few days ago, and it was great luck that they were in the same major
He was still grinning at Gary’s joke when his gaze snagged on a tall man ahead of them in the classroom who’d turned at the sound of their laughter.
For a heartbeat, the world seemed to slow, everything else blurring at the edges.
Piercing green eyes. Dark brown hair. Harsh, striking features. A tall, fit body, all taut lines and lean muscle.
Kit wanted to close the distance between them and climb him like a tree.
What the fuck? a voice in the back of his mind shrieked. This wasn’t him. Kit Keaton didn’t look at strangers and want them. Not instantly. Not with this clawing, breathless urgency.
Kit licked his dry lips, suddenly painfully aware that he was half-hard. Just like that.
The man’s gaze flicked to Kit’s mouth for a split second before returning to his eyes.
They stared at each other, caught in something neither of them could break.
Kit could barely breathe. He wanted—
“Good morning, professor!” Gary said.
Kit froze, his eyes going wide. Only then did he realize that the man he’d been ogling was dressed far too formally to be a student.
Oh, fuck.
The man went rigid, his face closing off. Wrenching his eyes away from Kit and giving Gary a stiff nod, he turned and strode toward the teacher’s desk.
Kit closed his eyes, crushed by the sheer unfairness of it.
Of course the only person he’d ever felt that strange, electric pull toward had to be someone he could never have.
Fuck his life. Seriously.