Page 111 of A Bolt of Magic

She laughs, and it reaches her eyes this time. “You’re okay. Good in bed.” She bobs her eyebrows.

“There’s more to me than my shaft.”

“If you say so.” She laughs some more.

“Jokes aside, it’s a big deal. What Lydia admitted to is huge.”

“It is. To think that all those years, I thought she had everything I wanted, and she felt the same way about me.” She shakes her head. “We were both so focused on what the other had that we couldn’t see our own worth.”

“Only she lashed out, and you didn’t. If anything, you tried harder and achieved so much.”

“She’s achieved a lot, too,” she says. “The meeting with The Circle,” McColl changes the subject. “Did you get any…I don’t know…bad feelings about it? Or was it all smooth sailing? Not to take anything away from the achievement.”

“No, you’re right to question it.”

“I question everything where my mother is concerned.”

“If I’m honest, it almost went too well. Your mother wasveryaccommodating.”

McColl’s expression grows troubled. “That’s what worries me. My mother is never accommodating unless there’s something in it for her. She always has an angle.”

“You think she’s planning something?”

“I don’t know,” McColl admits, pulling the sheet higher. “I never know with her. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. She does care about the coven, and this alliance would benefit everyone. It’s just…” She sighs.

I do know. The same thought had crossed my mind during the meeting. But I pushed it aside because we need allies, and the witches are one of our best options.

I reach over and take her hand, intertwining our fingers. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

The words slip out before I can stop them. They slip out because they feel right, just like she feels right. We belong together.

McColl’s eyes widen slightly.Together. Her eyes turn a little hazy, and her jaw tightens. She looks sad. She wants us. This. I know it.

A plan begins forming in my mind. It’s crazy, impossible, but suddenly, I can’t let it go. I don’t want to leave her here. Why should I? Why should we pretend that what we have doesn’t matter when it does? I just gave a speech about different species coming together, about being stronger united than divided. How can I walk away from the woman who’s become everything to me?

It doesn’t matter that we are different. There is nothing wrong with it. In fact, I think it makes us stronger. It makes us work so well.

I pull in a breath, intent on asking her to come with me, but then stop myself at the last second.

I can’t!

Not tonight. Not right now. I refuse to ruin this perfect moment. I have no idea how McColl will feel about it. She might feel obliged to stay. She might up and leave. I want what could end up being our last night. I need it. I will ask her in the morning. I’ll ask her when she wakes up in my arms.

There’s a part of me that's terrified she’ll say no. That she’ll choose the safety and familiarity of her home over the uncertain path I’m offering. But I have to try. I have to give us a chance. I hope she will, too.

34

McColl

Something pulls me from the depths of sleep. My skin prickles with awareness. I open my eyes, seeing morning light stream through the gap in the drapes, casting golden bars across the bed where Kian and I lie tangled together, our naked bodies still intertwined.

I look over at the foot of my bed and gasp.

My mother is standing there, her dark eyes taking in every detail of our compromising position. Her disapproving gaze roves over us both. I look down, and thankfully, we are covered, although our bare shoulders are visible above the rumpled sheets. Kian’s arm is wrapped around my waist.

The room smells of sex. Of us. Of everything we did to each other through the long hours of the night.

Heat floods my face as I sit up quickly, clutching the covers to my breasts. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure she can hear it.

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