I snorted. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ll lose my reputation.”
She laughed, the sound soft and content, and turned her face into my neck.
When I’d been with Avery, I’d never felt she was happy with our relationship. That whatever I did or said had never been enough. And yet, Liora had just given me words I’d never expected to hear.
I wrapped an arm around her, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and something that was becoming like home to me.
Nearly two weeks ago, my life had been quiet. Predictable. Fine.
Now I had a witch in my arms, a squirrel in my curtains, a unicorn at the forest edge, and a brooch on my coffee table that, apparently, was magick.
And I’d never felt more certain of anything than I did of this simple truth …
I didn’t want any of it without her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LIORA
How the hell was I supposed to focus on giving a proper reading when my brain was still replaying Torin’s mouth on mine like it was on a cursed loop?
I trudged up the path to the castle with my laptop bag bumping against my hip, trying very hard not to think about the fact that I now knew exactly what Torin sounded like when he lost control a little.
And it was excellent.
To say I was primed and ready to go once we got back from the forest was an understatement. Seeing him in his element…seeing his strength in action…I was practically frothing.Definitely drooling.It was no surprise he could carry me around the house as if I weighed nothing.And good God, the man in bed?
But it was also the words he spoke into my insecurity that had my heart thumping madly.
“You’re not in charge of everything. Just your part. And your part, as far as I can tell, is giving people courage. They decide what to do with it.”
He was so affirming, so good with words…just like he was so good with his hands.
“Focus,” I muttered to myself as MacAlpine Castle loomed overhead, all turrets and stone and lovely in the soft afternoon light. “This is for Matthew, who seems like a perfectly lovely person. No thinking about your sex life while you’re poking around in his soul chart.”
A text pinged on my phone, and seeing it was from Zara asking when we could hang out, I put my phone on silent. Guilt tugged low in my stomach. She’d been asking to get together for a while now, and I kept blowing her off, happy in my little cocoon of bliss and not wanting anyone to burst it for me. Tossing my phone back in my handbag, I rang the bell at the castle doors.
The autumn air bit at my cheeks and Matthew beamed at me as he swept the doors open and laughed as I gaped up at the vaulted ceilings over my head.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Mind-blowing,” I agreed, giving him a quick hug. He looked dashing today, in a tweed suitcoat, a Ramones T-shirt, and fitted dark denim jeans.
“I’ve got a fire going in the library for us. It’s just, ugh, it’s the best. One of my favorite rooms, not just in this castle, but in the world. I would live there if I could.”
“Sounds dreamy,” I said, beaming at him, and following him down a stone corridor lined with the kind of fancy portraits that implied a once noble family had lived here.
At two arched wooden doors, Matthew paused and swept the doors open.
I sighed.
The library was straight out of a fantasy film. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined in dark wood, a rolling ladder, a stone fireplace with a cheerful fire going, wingback chairs, green glass lamps casting pools of soft light. There was an honest-to-goodness-actual mural on the ceiling. The afternoon sky outside the tall windows was pewter-grey, but in here everything was cozy and welcoming.
Sir Buster stood in the middle of the rug, vibrating with disapproval, growling low the second he saw me.
“Good day to you too, sir,” I said.
His growl tapered off into a grumble.