Page 67 of Whiskey & Witches

“I know what I’d choose, Ro, but you need to decide what is best for you.”

Worrying her lip, she stared into Damian’s patient eyes as she debated what she wanted. It should be a simple matter to have all her pain taken away, but she doubted it would be without penalty. There was always a balance or trade necessary.

“There’s no cost to you,” Damian assured her as if she’d spoken the words aloud. “You’ve gone over and above for everyone, and this is your reward, should you choose it.”

She touched her scarred cheek, tracing the tangle of scars to her blind eye. “And my magic? Will it be completely restored? No drain after performing a spell like I currently have?”

“You will be whole once more.”

Again, she looked at Carrick. What she was seeking from him, she wasn’t certain, but when he leaned in and gently cradled her face, she saw his fierce love but not the pity she expected. His gaze roved over the scars, studying them in their entirety.

“Sure, and I’ve said it before, but they’ve never bothered me or turned me off, Ro. That was always your issue, never mine. Remove them or keep them; it’s up to you. I’ll love you and desire you the same either way.”

“I don’t want to keep them,” she whispered past her aching throat.

“Then let the Aether help you. But do it for yourself, love, and no one else, yeah?”

With a careful, butterfly-soft touch, he brushed away the tears she didn’t know were flowing.

“There’s nothing to fear, Mrs. O’Malley,” Damian said. He held out his hand, and peace settled in her heart when she placed hers in his. “I won’t lie to you. The initial removal will burn like hell, but once I’m done and the marks fade, so will the pain. Your scars will never return.”

“Do we do this here?”

“It might be best in my study. That way, if you cry out, your husband isn’t tempted to rearrange all of my perfect features,” he said dryly.

She laughed as he intended, and the last of her tension vanished.

Her gaze touched on Ronan, and he gave her a smile and an encouraging nod as if to say, “You go, girl!”

More and more, she found herself softening toward him.

As they entered the study, she faced Damian. “Will you ever give Ronan his abilities back?”

“If I do it now, he risks a reoccurrence of today’s illness. I can’t guarantee there isn’t residual black magic in his cells at the moment. But when the time is right, I’ll confer with the Fates and his goddess to see what can be done.”

“I should hate him for what he set in motion, but I don’t,” she confessed.

“He did something wrong for what he considered was the right reason. It’s hard to hate a man like that.”

“He’s your good friend, yeah?”

Damian took a long time to answer, and Roisin got the impression he was weighing his words.

“I’ve known him a long time. Twenty-four years, if I remember correctly, but we fell out of touch when I found out Vivian was pregnant.” He poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. “I ended a lot of friendships to protect Sabrina. She’s too young to fight off those who would try to steal her power. It was better if the world didn’t know she existed.”

“And you didn’t trust Ronan not to be one of those people?”

“I can’t afford to trust anyone. It puts me at a distinct disadvantage if I’m wrong about a person’s true motives. But I do regret not being there for Ronan when he needed my counsel.”

It was a terrible way to live, not trusting friends. Roisin had dealt with isolation this year, and she hated almost every minute of it. “Then it’s sorry I am that you need to live the way you do.”

“I’m content, and Sabrina is a well-adjusted child for what she is.”

“She and Aeden are friends, and should she ever want a playdate, you’ve only to call, and I’ll bring him to her.” He smiled, and under the full force of that beauty, she forgot to breathe. “Sure, and now I see why you don’t whip that thing out more than you do. It’s lethal.”

She basked in the loveliness of his unrestrained laughter.

“You’re good for my ego, Mrs. O’Malley.”

---