Chapter Seven Rab
Nae bother, lad,” Henry said some time later, beaming down at the hedgehog he now cradled in his hefty palms. We’d retreated to the edge of the clearing near the mulled cider cauldron. “We’ll get this wee beastie sorted out. Won’t we?”
The hedgie blinked up at Henry, nose twitching, and, I swear on my ancestors, beamed at him.
The two were in mutual accord, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
There was no way I was carrying a hedgie around with me all night.
Not that I much wanted to stay at the festival, but I’d barely spoken to anyone, and despite being annoying, Liam was also right.
People would talk if I didn’t show my face.
My thoughts whirled, my emotions a scrambled knot in my chest, and I reached for another glass of cider from the tray of a passing volunteer. I took a sip, the liquid a burst of spiced warmth on my tongue, and studied the glass in my hand.
She’d changed my drink into a hedgehog.
Which meant transmutation was one of her abilities, whether she knew it or not, and wild swings of emotion could set it off. Particularly in witches new to their abilities.
I still remembered one tricky moment when I’d changed my beer into a photo of Lyra, infuriating my father and bringing tears to my mother’s eyes. It had been on one of the rare family get-togethers, a trip to Pitlochry for a Christmas play, and I’d been new to my magick.
“I can’t believe you’re still thinking of the lass… after all these years,” my father had seethed, turning away from me in disgust. He’d always been a hard man, his thinking falling in black and white, with no comprehension of the grayer areas of life.
“I hadn’t even been thinking of her,” I’d protested.
Had I? Maybe not consciously. But we’d stopped at a table of baked goods being sold outside the theater, and I’d briefly remembered how Lyra had once brought me a tin of Christmas mince pies, carefully wrapped with a pretty bow.
She’d made them herself and had held her breath as I’d taken a bite. I’d devoured the entire tin.
“Clearly you were. When will you move on? Look how Briarhaven has thrived since the MacGregors have been gone.”
“What do you care about Briarhaven?” I’d shot back. “You don’t even live there anymore.”
“And the better for it. Look how well my business is doing now.” My father had patted the pockets of his waistcoat, a gold watch winking at his wrist, clearly happy with the direction his life had taken since leaving Briarhaven.
“There’s more to life than a profitable business.
Isn’t there, Mum?” I’d turned to my mum, but once again, she’d cast her eyes down, refusing to disagree with my father.
Over and over, since Lyra had left, I’d looked to my mother for support and advice, but she’d never been able or willing to help me.
It was as though something in her had changed the day Lyra left, or maybe it was my perception of her.
I’d always thought I could rely on her to have my best interests in mind, when instead she’d become a quieter echo of my father, parroting his ideas, never standing in her own stead.
Perhaps that had fueled my distrust of women.
“A healthy business leads to a healthy home,” Mum had said, her hands gripped tightly in front of her, and my shoulders had slumped, defeated.
There’d been no use arguing or trying to change their minds when it came to the MacGregors. The worst of it was that time had, infuriatingly, proven them right.
Lyra had never really cared for me.
At least, that’s what I told myself on the nights when the memory of her laugh wouldn’t let me sleep.
Biting back the taste of bitterness that curled in my mouth and pushing the memory aside, I took another sip of my drink and watched as dancers began to gather in the cleared space around the bonfire. Lanterns swung from branches, casting moving patterns over the ground.
“There’s the lad.” Liam materialized at my side, Knox in tow. “We’ve been wondering what happened to you. Got lost in a maze?”
“Just stepped out for a wee minute,” I said. I wasn’t about to say a word about my run-in with Lyra. Largely because I was still trying to make sense of it.
For a moment, at the spring, there had been something in her eyes.
And I hated just how much I wanted to figure out what emotion was hidden behind her disgust toward me.
“How are you holding up?” Knox asked, his grin far too knowing for my liking.
“Fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked lightly.
“Because Lyra looks like a radiant forest goddess and nobody can take their eyes off her,” Knox said, turning back to look toward the dance circle. “Except me, of course. Have you seen Sloane? I’m counting down the minutes until it’s acceptable for me to steal her into the shadows.”
I didn’t say anything, my mouth going dry as Lyra accepted the arm of a man in a well-cut coat, a dark mask concealing half his face. I glanced down at my own kilt—worn, familiar, a bit frayed at the edge. Respectable enough.
Was that the type of man she wanted now?
It was impossible not to notice that every head turned when Lyra walked past on the street. Flowers appeared on her doorstep. Men offered umbrellas in a light mist of rain. She’d traveled all over Europe, and judging by her clothes, she was well used to luxury.
I was just a simple accountant in a small town in Scotland.
Albeit one with magickal powers. But was that ever going to be enough for a beautiful creature like Lyra MacGregor? As much as it burned, the truth was my father had been right to try to stop me from a future with her. Either way, the path had always been meant to end in disappointment.
A soft sound beside me made me turn. Liam’s mouth had dropped open. Following his gaze, I saw Raven emerging from the trees.
She looked ethereal, her hair tumbling in soft waves down her back, her dress flowing like liquid moonlight. A wreath of rowan berries circled her head.
“Och, there’s a bonnie lass, aye?” I nudged Liam. “She looks like an angel fallen into the wrong forest.”
“Go on, Liam.” Knox elbowed him. “She’s needing a dance partner. See? She’s looking around.”
“I can’t,” Liam whispered, but his eyes never left Raven, longing clouding his expression.
“Aye, you can.” I took his glass from his hand. “After she brought you that tea for your back? Don’t be rude.”
One more shove from Knox and Liam stumbled toward the clearing, drunk on the sight of her. Knox moved closer to me.
“Och, there he goes, our wee fledgling. Think he’ll be ready to fly yet?”
Despite the ache twisting in my gut, I laughed. In Scotland, banter between mates was our safety net.
“One can only hope. Unless he trips over his own two feet.”
We watched as Raven’s face lit with a soft smile and she threaded her arm through Liam’s to take their place in the reel.
“The clearing looks great,” I said as the band struck up a lively tune. I tapped my foot to the beat, ignoring the tug in my chest urging me forward. In a cèilidh-style dance, I’d be switching partners every few steps. It was inevitable, if I went out there, that I’d end up paired with Lyra.
And I wasn’t sure my heart could take it.
“Aye, Sloane and Henry did it all,” Knox said. “Those two together are terrifying, with their lists and spreadsheets.” He gestured to the canopy of garlands and fairy lights twined overhead. “Do you know how many conversations I had about leaf-color palettes? Leaf-color palettes, Rab.”
“Far more than I’d care to,” I said, eyes tracking Lyra again as she spun beneath her partner’s arm, the gems on her dress catching firelight like stars.
Maybe I’d been here long enough.
“I think I’m going to head out—”
“Och, bloody hell. These two.” Knox groaned as Haggis hurled himself into the dance circle, wheeling through pine needles at an alarming speed. Oswald streaked ahead like an offended chaperone, tail fluffed.
I choked on a laugh. “What is he doing?”
“He can’t help himself.” Knox sighed. “The wee coo loves a dance. Any dance. Every dance.”
“Look at him go.” I grinned as Haggis spun in circles, his wheels spraying bits of moss. Blue darted overhead, with a small creature—a tiny, glittery menace—flitting at his heels, sword glinting dangerously.
“A fluttermouse,” I murmured. “Isn’t that something?”
Lyra broke away from her partner, laughing, and bent to muss Haggis’s fur before joining the dance again. She glowed bright as summer, and I hated how instantly my chest tightened.
Then her gaze caught mine.
For a heartbeat, time stuttered. She dipped her head, and for one second, the smallest, softest smile flitted across her face, so achingly familiar it split me open.
And something in me snapped.
Screw it.
Before Knox could blink and before I could talk myself out of it, I strode toward the dance.
Lyra’s eyes widened when I stepped into the reel opposite her. She drew in a breath, her impossibly gorgeous breasts rising in the dress as she did, and I almost closed my eyes at the sheer wash of need that rushed through me.
How long would I lie to myself about this woman?
How long would I use anger as my shield to protect my sad, wounded heart?
Even now, with the whole town watching, all I wanted to do was kiss her.
The music surged, and we moved… hands clasping, bodies brushing, our steps in beat with each other. It had always been this way with us. Perfectly in tune. Every turn brought us closer and then pulled us apart, before spinning us back together.
Her fingers slid across my palm.
Heat bolted up my arm.
She looked up at me with her lips parted, eyes shimmering, and for one dizzying, impossible moment, the world narrowed to the inch of air between us. Her breath mingled with mine. Her lips tilted upward…
I bent my head, and our mouths drifted closer, instinct driving us.
And just as my heart slammed against my ribs—
The dance shifted.
We were forced apart, spinning away to new partners. The moment shattered like thin glass.
My pulse crashed. Cold clarity followed.
And I remembered.
How she’d left.
How she’d lied.
How I’d begged her to stay and she’d walked away anyway.
I dragged a deep breath into my lungs, the taste of almost kissing her still heavy on my tongue.
When the reel ended, applause rose through the trees, and I stepped back before she could turn toward me.
Before I could be tempted again.
“Aye,” I rasped to no one. “That’s me off, mate.”
Knox called my name, but I only shook my head as I turned.
Above me, the sky flickered with the dragons preparing for their big display.
But I didn’t look back.
If I did, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make myself walk away.