Page 119 of Happily Ever Witch
Trevelyan hated them both. He sloshed coffee into the mug Esmeralda usually used. It had a Happily Ever Witch Cosmetics logo on it. Apparently, that made it his, now. As soon as his mate perished from her recklessness, he’d be a small business owner.
The edges of his vision clouded with ominous, scorching smoke.
“Neverland.” He muttered, because it was the first place he thought of through the thunderous frenzy consuming his mind. His room at his sister’s beachside estate was where he stored his valuables. He slept there more than anyplace else. “I’ll go to Neverland.”
“Oh, great choice.” Galahad nodded and headed over to refill his mug, as well. “I’ve gone pearl-surfing near the Mermaid Lagoon.”
The knight had invented the damn sport. It had revolutionized Neverland Beach’s tourist industry and made Maid Marion another fortune to add on top of herotherfortunes. Galahad was allegedly one of the most creative, clever, charmed beings in the world. He must hide his talents well, because Trevelyan had rarely met anyone so sunnily, nauseatingly, idiotically positive.
(It never failed. Trevelyan was forever surrounded by morons. …Except when he was with Esmeralda. She was the only one who never bored him or made him despair for the world’s collective IQ. Everyone else was useless.)
Trevelyan drank his coffee without even tasting it. “How long ago did Ez leave?” He asked, although he wasn’t sure why he bothered.
“Half an hour.” Galahad leaned against the counter, casually at ease. “You know… I bet you could catch up with her, if you figured out a way through the magic mirror. Maybe if you reflected on it and…” He trailed off. “Reflect on the magic mirror! Hey, that’s funny.”
Using a pun just jumped Galahad straight to the top of Trevelyan’s “needs to die” list. He restrained himself from slaughtering the knight, but only because homicide might spill his coffee.
His eyes stayed on the window, wishing he could see even a glimpse of the witch’s dark hair in the distance. (Or whatever the hell color her hair was today.) He just wanted toseeher. “Of course I could figure out how to use the mirror.” He muttered. “I’m a dragon. There’s nothing I can’t do.”
“You can go after Esmeralda, then.”
“Why would I want to? Esmeralda and I have agreed to live separate lives.”
The gryphon scoffed at that news, moving to stand next to his husband. He was visibly worried about Galahad being so close to an unstable villain, his large body maneuvering so it was between the knight and Trevelyan.
Galahad rolled his eyes, but allowed Trystan to push him backward a few steps. “I have this handled.” He complained.
His husband ignored him. “Separate lives will never work, dragon. Why would you let the witch suggest such a ludicrous thing?”
“It wasmyidea.”
“That is even stupider. You’ve underestimated how much trouble a True Love can cause. Why would you wish to have less knowledge of what yours is plotting?” He flashed Galahad another look. “And they arealwaysplotting.”
Galahad shrugged, like he had no clue what Trystan was talking about.
“Separate lives is often a tempting thought.” The gryphon muttered and then looked back at Trevelyan. “But the inevitable pandemonium that follows will just cause a man more headaches.” He gestured around the empty castle. “Does this result seem wise?”
No. In retrospect separate lives was the worst idea he’d ever had. Trevelyan rubbed at his chest, trying to ease the ache that had started. God, she could beanywhere. With her powers,impossible things were simple. If she wanted to, Esmeralda could save Marrok and simply disappear. The note said she’d find Trevelyan, but what if she changed her mind?
Why would sheevercome back to him, when she could be with her family?
“Is it cold in here?” He muttered. “It feels cold in here.”
“The temperature is fine. You are just emotional. It’s the nature of your species.” Trystan Airbourne reached for a wabeberry tart from the tray on the counter.
Trevelyan’s head whipped around. “Steal my tarts.” He challenged ferociously. “I fuckingdareyou.”
The gryphon arched a brow, but dropped his hand away from the desserts. Too bad. Trevelyan would have relished a fight. The dragon clawed to get out. Desperate to find their mate. Swirls of green smoke appeared above Trevelyan’s skin, the precursor to transformation. His powers were healing.
He didn’t care.
Trevelyan resisted the urge to pace, restless agitation driving him. “Esmeralda should have told me this was her plan.” He informed the other men, needing to vent. Granted, the witchhadtold him her plan, but she should have been clearer about it. She’d tricked him by telling the truth. Why couldn’t she lie like a normal person? “She left when my back was turned, because she knew I’d stop her.”
“How could you have stopped her, when you were the one who suggested that she separate her life from yours?” The gryphon retorted, clearly still bitter over his failed plot to rob Trevelyan of his tarts.
Trevelyan didn’t know how to answer that question, so his mind went back to savage destruction. That was understandable and familiar.
He could destroy the Four Kingdoms, if she didn’t return. That would get her attention. Of course he planned to destroy it anyway. Esmeralda knew that. He could switch his plan and hold it hostage, perhaps? Say hewouldn’tflatten the abysmal place, so long as she came back to him. That was a fair trade. He would spare the Enchanted Forest if it won him the bigger prize.
