Page 2

AMbrOSE

PRESENT DAY

A boom of thunder rattles the suit of armor in the hall, and shakes the heavy frames on the paintings that adorn the dark wood-paneled walls of the chateau.

Rain pounds against the windows hard enough that I imagine an uninvited branch breaking through the glass any minute now.

The wind is howling so loud, I almost don’t hear the knock on the front door.

A glance over at the clock on the mantle tells me it’s after three in the morning. I’ve spent the last few hours in front of the fire in the library, a book in my lap. I’ve been staring at the same page for the last five minutes, lost in thoughts that I already don’t remember.

The sound of thumping on the front door comes again.

No good ever comes from a knock this late at night.

I snap my book shut and leave it on my vacated chair.

My silk robe billows out behind me as I make my way to the front door, already anticipating trouble.

My friends would just let themselves in.

I’m tempted to ignore whoever is beating on the wood, but another crack of thunder pushes my conscience to be nice.

What if there’s a stranded motorist looking for help?

This isn’t the fifties. I can’t imagine someone is stranded without a cell phone.

It could be a murderer. That would be an interesting twist.

The chateau is a massive mansion that has been in the Roth family for centuries.

Technically, it’s still my parents' home, but they’re never here.

No sense in letting the place sit vacant with just the ghosts of bad decisions to haunt the halls, so I’ve made it my duty to keep the place up.

If my mother and father were in residence, there would be staff here to answer the door, but I prefer not to have people waiting on me.

Through the glass of the massive front door, there's an outline of a small figure huddled and hunched forward. They’re soaked. I throw the door open, worry coursing through me.

Piper Beaumont, a shy witch from the other side of town, is standing on my doorstep, drenched and shivering. Her normally flame-red hair is dark and plastered to her face. Her lips have a blue tinge to them, and her skin is so pale it looks translucent.

“Piper. What are you doing here? For Crone’s sake, you’re soaked.”

I grab her arm and guide her inside. She slips on the wood floor and her hands snatch at my arm to keep herself from falling. I hook an arm around her waist and steady her, her skin frozen under my fingers.

“What happened?” I peer out the window. I don’t even see her car. “Did you walk here?”

It’s only a few weeks into March, and it’s the middle of the night. In the upper peninsula, that means the rain could turn to snow at any minute. It’s not the time for a leisurely walk. Piper isn’t foolish, so I’m immediately worried about her well-being.

“Let’s get you warmed up.” I lead her to the closest bathroom. It hasn’t escaped me that she hasn’t answered a single one of my questions yet.

There’s a stack of towels in the closet. I grab a few, shaking them out before wrapping one around her shoulders and handing her another so she can wipe her face off.

“Here, dry off.”

Piper Beaumont is a witch. I’m a witch too.

Up until a year ago, I only knew her name.

And that was because she’s from one of the founding families of Mystic Hollows.

As am I. We were previously from two feuding covens.

I’d never spoken to her, and had maybe laid eyes on her once.

Then one of my best friends fell in love with one of her best friends, and our two circles were fused into one.

Since getting to know her, she’s surprised me on more than one occasion, and it takes a lot for that to happen.

Piper swipes at the water across her face with robotic motions.

It’s as if she doesn’t care about the water, but is doing it because I told her to dry off, and she’s following my command.

I face her and drop my hands onto her shoulders.

She’s leaning against the vanity, and her head tips back so she can look up at me.

The light in here feels too bright somehow, as if she might wither under its harshness.

I've never met someone like Piper before. She gives off the impression of fragility, as if she’s a butterfly who would cease to fly if you reached out and touched her wings.

But she’s not some wisp of a thing. In fact, I’ve never seen a woman more lush than Piper Beaumont.

Her hips and ass were made for a man’s hands.

Now is not the time to be thinking about the filthy things I want to do to this shy woman who's obviously in a very vulnerable state tonight.

I rest my hands on her waist. In my mind, it’s to steady her, but she’s not wavering in front of me.

In fact, her vivid blue eyes are determined.

Water still clings to her dark lashes as she blinks up at me, her full mouth parting on a sigh.

She licks a droplet of water off her top lip and my eyes track the movement.

I’m so mesmerized by the sight that I almost miss her words.

“I need you to marry me.”

I nearly trip over my own feet as I stumble away from her, snatching my hands back as if they’ve been burned. Laughter bubbles up from my chest, and I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I think I misheard you. What?”

Piper sucks on her bottom lip, and some of the color returns to her cheeks. Her fingers are tightly wrapped in the towel that she’s holding over her chest. “I need someone to take ownership of me.”

My mouth gapes open as my dick twitches in my pants. Fuck me. Inappropriate thoughts hammer into my head as she nervously waits for my response. This is so not the time.

“Piper, you’re aware this isn’t the Middle Ages, as much as it might feel that way sometimes. Marriage isn’t ownership.”

Piper’s trembling. I’m sure it’s from the cold, but maybe also from this conversation, which is too strange for me to understand. I’m lost. What is happening right now?

Piper wipes away a drip of water that runs down her cheek. It reminds me of a tear. “For the sake of magic, it will be.”

I frown, my eyes taking in the woman in front of me. She’s wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt. If she wasn’t covered by the towel, it would be translucent. Her hair falls down her back and is dripping into the sink behind her.

“What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?” What on Earth could have led her to wanting to marry me?

She opens her mouth to reply, but all that comes out is a croak. Her shoulders shake and sweat beads on her upper lip. She bends over in pain, gasping for breath. I close the distance between us and cup her cheeks, helping her stand back up. Her skin is ice cold.

This isn’t the first time she’s reacted this way. Recently, our coven had a disastrous masquerade ball. Piper’s uncle demanded she come stand at his side, and when she didn’t immediately obey, she nearly fell over in pain.

“Do you want me to call someone? What can I do?” I stroke her cheek with my thumb. Piper rests the weight of her head in my hand as if it’s too heavy for her to hold.

“Marry me,” she whispers, her inhalation catching as she shudders.

“Is this like a romance book? You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend at an ex’s wedding or something?”

I know that’s not what she wants, but a lifetime of trying to keep things light and fun kicks in. Piper deserves lightness more than anyone I’ve ever met. She moves through life like she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Tonight. There’s a flight to Vegas from Sawyer.”

Sawyer is the closest airport. I frown at her and squeeze out the extra water in her hair. Piper’s eyes close almost all the way, but she’s still looking at me.

“You want to go now? In the rain?”

“Right now.” She glances at the window, as though expecting a monster to burst through the panes.

Her phone rings. She digs her fingers into my arms, her hands gripping so hard they’re turning white. Or maybe they already were from the cold.

“No,” she whispers. “Take it from me. Hide it. Please.”

The phone is in her front pocket. I can’t exactly go digging around in there. “You’re acting very strange, Piper.”

Tears stream down her face. “Please. Hide it. Now.”

I shake my head, but work my fingers into her sodden jeans, retrieving the phone. She reaches out as if she wants it, but when I hold it out for her, she shouts. “No. Get it out of my sight.” She moans, as if the outburst causes her pain.

I shove the phone behind my back in surprise.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Piper raise her voice before.

She lunges at me while tears stream down her cheeks.

There’s some magic at work here that I’m not aware of.

I slip out of the bathroom and shut the door, holding on to the handle so she can’t get out.

Peering down, I see the name Tucker flash across the screen.

Her uncle.

Piper’s rattling the handle, but as soon as the ringing stops, so does the fight on the other side of the door. There’s a thump of her body sagging against the door.

Why was she so desperate to both get rid of her phone and answer the call from her uncle?

Tucker Beaumont is a piece of shit. He was part of the old coven council that essentially tried to curse the entirety of our coven at the masquerade ball last month.

He’s currently under house arrest while the rest of the coven tries to figure out what to do with him and the other bastards that tried to curse us.

The soft sound of crying reaches me through the door and my heart breaks.

What is happening to Piper? I look around the hallway and drop Piper’s phone inside an urn that probably held some royal’s ashes or was a product of a dynasty that collapsed five hundred years ago.

The phone makes a loud thunk as it hits the bottom of the vase.

When I open the bathroom door, Piper is on the floor.

Her arms are wrapped around her knees and her head hangs down.

I kneel in front of her, reaching out to grab her hands.

A spark of magic zips from her skin where it touches mine.

She lifts her head, and her eyes are so bright when she looks up at me, it takes my breath away.

“I need help, Ambrose.”

My magic warms in my chest. A tight ball of energy that wants to zip out and unleash illusions around me.

But I keep it tightly contained. I don’t know why Piper is asking me for this favor, and I don’t know why she won’t tell me.

All that’s clear is that I have no choice.

I can’t turn her away. I know what it’s like to be alone and hopeless. Piper doesn’t deserve that.

The agony radiating from her is so palpable I swear I feel it deep in my bones. Neither she nor I have empath magic, so that can’t be it.

Mystic Hollows is a town of contradictions.

The city’s entire identity is wrapped up in the idea of witches finding a place where they could practice magic without persecution.

Yet, we’ve inflicted so much pain and misery on generation after generation of witches.

Our curses have shaped our lives and who we are.

I don’t know for a fact that any of this has to do with Piper’s curse, but there’s a good chance that’s what we’re dealing with.

Even if it’s not, I won’t leave her to figure this out on her own.

“I’m always up for an adventure. I didn’t think it would ever end up with a marriage, but stranger things have happened.”