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VAN

M ate , my jaguar murmured in the recesses of my mind.

That jolted me from the fringes of a beautiful dream to bolting upright in bed. I needed to find Maribelle. What she’d done to me last night was beyond a prank.

I dressed quickly and took the stairs two-by-two up to the spa. The neutral tones, soothing music, and relaxing aromatherapy scents were totally incongruent with the chaos churning inside me. She was busy with a client, so I paced up and down the deck until she was done.

Once she returned to the reception area, wearing her light blue ship uniform, I motioned for her to come talk to me.

When we had a tad more privacy, I growled out, “How could you do that to me? Messing with me like that. Having my jaguar think we’d found our…” I trailed off, seething. The very idea was simply ludicrous.

Maribelle narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about? It was just a playful spell.”

“Hell no. Nothing playful about that hex. More like a curse.” I ran my fingers through my hair and paced before her. “It’s been tearing me up inside.” I placed my hand on my chest. “Are you happy? You win. I learned my lesson all right. Now, I beg you—please lift this hex.”

Maribelle’s mouth opened a fraction as her gaze flickered over me. She raised her hand slowly in front of my chest, up to my face, and then circled it.

“What are you doing?” I snapped.

“Seeing if the spell is still there. It’s not.” She cocked her head. “You’re really overreacting, Van. It was only for a few hours last night.”

I scowled and then straightened. That was a relief.

She could have told me, though, rather than some cryptic message about however long it took me to learn my lesson.

“Okay, then. So that mate thing was just a prank too. All that—” I paused to circle before my chest, in a quicker motion that she’d just done.

“—Chaos inside me, telling me I found my mate, that was just part of it.”

Nuh-uh, my jaguar protested. It’s her.

Maribelle’s eyes widened. “Did you say mate?”

“Yes.” I pictured that beautiful woman in the Celestial Lounge. With dark hair and pale skin. The sophisticated vampire.

My jaguar purred, sounding all moony.

Cut it out , I snapped. It was just a spell.

Maribelle pointed at herself. “I didn’t do that, Van. I wouldn’t do that. That’s well beyond teasing. Beyond any magic I would mess with.”

“Suuure,” I replied, dragging out my response with sarcasm. “It was a coincidence with timing then.” I nodded and gave her an expression calling out her explanation as bullshit.

“None of my spell remains,” she insisted with an earnest expression. “I don’t sense any lingering magic on you.”

I snorted. “Rubbish.” I pointed to my temple. “You’re messing with my head, Maribelle, and it’s not cool or in the least bit funny.”

She raised her hand, palm forward. “I swear, I had nothing to do with it.” She lowered her hand to her hip. “If you found your mate, well, then, Mr. Tyrian, congratulations.” Her lips twitched into a smile before she burst out with a chuckle. “This is even better than I could have ever planned.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Hate to break it to you, but it must have been a magical misfire or something.” I turned and walked away.

I wasn’t buying Maribelle’s denial. I’d test it myself when I found that woman again.

If I tried to speak to her and ended up braying like a donkey or spouting limericks, it would prove that Maribelle’s hex was still in effect.

And I wouldn’t put up with it. There were rules around magic, and she couldn’t go around messing with people’s lives.

During our set that night, I welcomed the guests, a little wary that my voice might crack or—worse—I’d suddenly start singing nursery rhymes. But so far, so good.

“We’re Luna Blue Shadows, and we’re going to play a ‘60s set tonight,” I said into the mic. My nerves still buzzed under the surface, but my words held steady. “All right, who likes the Stones?”

Lots of people applauded. We played “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”

The show was going great. The crowd was into it. But then she peeked in.

The woman from last night. The stunning vampire with sleek black hair and pale blue eyes.

My heart jolted. My jaguar stirred, wild and restless, eager to sprint over to her.

She scoured the room, her gaze skimming over faces until it found mine. For a few heart-quaking seconds, our eyes locked. Recognition flared in hers, and a sly smile curved one corner of her mouth. Then she nodded and turned, slipping out of the lounge.

Ouch. Total rejection. My stomach sank like an anchor.

I was used to drawing crowds, not having them take one look and walk away. And this wasn’t just any woman. This was the woman. The one I had to find again so I could ensure Maribelle’s curse was gone.

Although plenty of hot women were in the audience and I would have been flirting with them from onstage, they stirred zero interest in me tonight. I was too distracted by the dark-haired vamp.

Damn Maribelle.

Once the show ended, I did the usual rounds—chatted with people, smiled—but I didn’t dare flirt. Fortunately, I didn’t quack or spout rhymes, so that part of the curse had been lifted.

Then again, I wasn’t trying to flirt with them.

Where was the vampire?

Find her, my jaguar urged.

Yes, I agreed, that’s the plan.

I headed out of the Nocturnal Lounge and searched for her scent. Through the haze of colognes and perfumes, it was hard to isolate, but then I caught a hint—just the faintest trace—and it hit me like a boulder. Jasmine. Moonlight.

Mate , my jaguar insisted.

No, you’re wrong , I told him. That’s Maribelle’s curse. And that was what I meant to prove.

But I couldn’t deny how my pulse sprinted. How my skin was clammy. How I was desperate to find this woman.

I followed the subtle trail, weaving through the corridors of the cruise ship, but the competing scents kept throwing me off. I was ready to tear the place apart just to find her.

Twenty minutes later, I picked it up again—stronger this time—on the upper deck. I lost it briefly by the outdoor pool, but once I stepped into the Celestial Lounge, it surged forward.

She had been here. Recently.

I tracked it up to the gargoyle’s perch on the top level, an open space beneath the stars.

And then—I saw her.

Her midnight hair fluttered in the sea breeze. My heart shot up to my throat. My jaguar strained to run over.

A man stepped up to her and she turned to face him. My hackles raised as a possessive streak flared through my body.

But then my heart dropped like an anchor.

Had someone already claimed my mate?

That would be—devastating. I tried to decipher if they were together from their body language. Then I realized I was standing there gaping at them like some creep. I was about to turn away before they caught me staring, but too late, she saw me.

Crap. Caught.

She raised her hand and waved at me. “Darling, I’m over here!”