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Bo

I’ve started to get used to seeing Georgiana.

We both live in this small town, and unlike before my curse, I’m venturing out more.

In the past, I kept to the Monster section of Lake Galen as much as I could manage, only coming into town for work and necessities.

Now though, I make sure to stop by Coffee & Claws most weekdays to get Mor a surprise coffee.

Not a surprise that I’m getting her one, but the flavor combo is.

And I grocery shop with Mor.

And I stop into Never Judge a Cover to find a new story to enjoy now that reading isn’t painful.

And I stop in at Local Brew some evenings, where Griffith makes me virgin drinks so I don’t try starting my own karaoke night again.

So, on these excursions, yes, I occasionally see the siren.

Sometimes, she’s with a friend.

Sometimes, she’s with her husband.

Dr. Stormwind. He looks distinguished with his neatly styled salt-and-pepper hair, perfectly ironed slacks and button-up shirts, topped off with a thick metal watch that I bet is a Rolex.

Could a man be any more different from me?

Educated. Wealthy. Not a monster.

If Georgiana married a man like that, then had she ever truly considered a future with me?

But when I glimpse the siren with her doctor, no self-loathing arises.

Because, I realize, Georgiana’s life choices no longer matter to me.

Not like when Mor went out with that good-looking professor not too long ago.

That day, my jealousy was so strong that it made me ill.

But that guy meant nothing to Mor.

And I mean something to her.

I’m the one with her hand in mine when we come into town, the witch unapologetic about her claim on me.

And I’m the one with her savory taste on my tongue each night in the highest room of her enchanted library.

Today though, I’m alone on my coffee errand.

And so is Georgiana when she turns away from the front counter and meets my eyes.

Hers go wide with shock.

“B-Bo,” she stammers, her voice not matching her composed look in a pink sundress and heels.

For some reason, the color choice annoys me.

She’s all summer a few weeks before Halloween.

Doesn’t she know it’s time for burnt oranges and dark greens?

Rich, rusty reds, like the curls I want to tangle my fingers in.

“Hello, Georgiana.”

It’s easy not to use her nickname.

She isn’t Georgie anymore.

I’m not sure she ever was.

That woman seems more like a mask she wore to fool a lonely boy into trusting her.

But I don’t resent her.

As terrible as my captivity was, Mor made an astounding observation.

If I hadn’t been trapped, I likely would have left Folk Haven.

Georgiana wouldn’t have gone with me, but at the time, that would have given me all the more reason to go.

Discovering that the woman I cared for never felt the same.

And I would have stayed away.

And I never would have met my lusty witch, who thinks my glasses are hot and calls me baby with affection and lets me care for her in the way I’ve wanted all my life.

I don’t know if I can say thank you to my never-true friend.

But I also don’t hate her the way I did just a month ago, when I learned how she had given up on me without even trying.

I choose to nod and offer her a tight smile before stepping up to the counter.

Sonya, co-owner of Coffee & Claws, is working the register today, and she offers me a wide grin.

“Ah! Here for Mor’s caffeine fix? Let’s see, what fun can we have today?”

“Something fall-flavored,” I tell her.

“Pumpkin spice maybe. But with something extra.”

Sonya snaps her fingers.

“Spicy pumpkin spice. I’ll add a dash of cayenne to it.”

Spicy pumpkin spice.

I’ve never heard of a more perfect flavor.

“She’ll love that. With oat milk, please. And let’s go hot.”

The siren claps in delight and adds my dark roast coffee to the order without me having to ask.

I also point to a couple of apple turnovers, knowing they’ll add a sweet, cinnamon punch to the coffee break I’m about to take with my delicious woman.

And I only realize I’ve completely forgotten about Georgiana when I’m walking out of Coffee & Claws and a demanding hand wraps around my forearm.

The pink-dressed siren drags me into a nearby alley, and I let her more from shock than because she’s strong enough to move me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, figuring some dangerous catastrophe must be about to befall us because that’s the only reason Georgiana Stormwind would willingly break the cold shoulder she’s been giving me.

“Bo, I …” She dithers, glancing behind my shoulder, then up into my face with a feverish gleam in her eyes.

“What—”

She cuts my question off by diving forward and plastering her mouth to mine.

And once again, I’m too shocked to come up with an immediate reaction.

Also, my hands are full of coffee and pastries, so I don’t have any limbs free for pushing.

After a beat of befuddlement, I whip my head to the side and suck in a breath, trying to clear her artificial strawberry scent from my nose and my mouth.

How rude would it be for me to spit?

“What the hell?” I gasp instead.

“I’m sorry, Bo.” Georgiana licks her lips, and I think she’s apologizing for molesting me, until she continues, “I’ve missed you, and I needed to do that.”

Still reeling, I gaze around us, as if the environment will help this make sense.

But, no, we’re just in a shadowy alley that smells like dirt and dust. Georgiana tucked us away in the shadows to take what she wanted from me.

Just like she always has.

“You dragged me into this alley to kiss me in secret.” I glare down at her.

“Like something shameful.”

“No! It’s just that … I just wanted to talk to you. In private.” She stands taller and reaches out to place her hands on my chest. “I still want you, Bo.”

I step back, dodging her touch.

“Still want me?” I shake my head, flummoxed by this whole turn of events.

“Yes.” Her voice is breathless, pupils wide as she reaches for me again, and the wall at my back halts my retreat.

“We were young and wild together. I miss that. I miss you.” She drags her touch downward, as if cataloging my muscles through my flannel.

“I want to be with you.”

My brain clicks back online, and I slide to the side toward the alley’s entrance.

“Do you?” I ask, my voice hard.

“Because that all just sounded like you want to fuck me.” I frown hard, hurting, like rusty nails are in my stomach.

Not because I was hoping for Georgiana to want me again, but because it’s painful, being reminded how little I mean to someone I used to see as my world.

“Are you ever going to stop trying to use me? Just because I cared for you once doesn’t mean I’m going to be your twenty-something side piece because you’re bored, married to your human doctor.”

Georgiana flinches back, eyes wide, manicured nails glinting pearly white as she presses her fingers against her lips.

“I was always your dirty secret. Now you’re looking to repeat the past.” The anger drains out of me as fast as it rose.

I was never great at staying mad.

My next words only carry exhaustion.

“Maybe you do actually want me. But I don’t want you .”

My eyes drop to the hot latte in my hand, where I see Sonya’s sloping handwriting.

Bo & Mor.

“Bo, please?—”

“Bo?” a voice asks from the mouth of the alleyway, and I turn to find Ame in a set of scrubs.

“Is Georgiana bothering you?” the witch asks, not caring for tact in the slightest.

Gods, I love the Shelly family.

The siren, whose voice sounded vulnerable and hopeful just a moment ago, tucks those emotions behind a haughty mask.

Or maybe it’s the other way around.

I guess I’ll never be sure.

“Talking is not bothering, dear,” she huffs, then struts her way out of the alley, as if she didn’t just try to proposition me.

Ame steps aside to let the siren pass, and then the witch waits for me to join her on the sidewalk in the bright autumn sunshine.

“You have great timing,” I tell her.

“I heard a big I want to fuck Bo Folan desire and thought it was Mor.” Ame stares up at me, expression unreadable.

“I hope that’s what Mor wants,” I mumble, staring at the sidewalk between my boots.

“I’m not going to ask you to keep what just happened from her. But I’d like to be the one to tell her, if that’s all right by you.”

Ame stares at me.

“You’re very bad at shielding your emotions. Did you know that?”

“I … no.”

“You are. Mor will know right away that she’s the only one you want. If you’re going home right now to tell her what happened, feel free to FaceTime me if you want someone to corroborate your story.”

“FaceTime?”

“Video call.” She holds up her phone.

“But I don’t think you’ll need it. I believe you. Mor will believe you.” Ame takes a step back, and then she runs her eyes from the top of my head down to my boots, then settles back on my face.

“Would you like a hug? Jack likes when I hug him, but he’s also obsessed with me, so I don’t actually know if I’m any good at it.”

This witch.

She’s kind of hilarious.

And when I consider her question, I find the answer almost immediately.

“I would like a hug.” I spread my arms, hands still clutching coffees, but that doesn’t stop me from wrapping them around Ame as she encircles my waist in a firm hold.

“You’re good at this,” I tell her because she is.

This is a high-quality hug.

Ame gives an extra squeeze, then steps away.

“My lunch break is running out. I’ll keep an eye out for your call.”

But she was right.

When I return to the library, I sit Mor down and tell her about more than what just happened.

I give her all of my history with Georgiana.

Up until the point that Sev’s magical gag cuts me off.

But she understands enough.

Mor listens to what happened, and the first thing out of her mouth is, “I don’t care if she’s on the Mythic Council. I’m going to tit-punch that bitch the next time I see her.”

“You … what?”

Mor stands up, fists clenched, brow furrowed in anger.

“She thinks she can turn her back on you, then just decide she wants a nice young boy toy to fuck when she gets bored in her marriage? That she can just play with your emotions like that? No way in any fucking hell dimension. Her tit, my fist—they will have a meeting!” Mor waves said fist in the air.

And I snort. Then chuckle.

Then full-on belly laugh.

“You know what’s going to be hilarious?” She thrusts a finger at my chest, which is still vibrating with chuckles.

“How wonky her boobs will look when I punch one so hard that it points in the wrong direction. That bitch. THAT BITCH!”

“Mor, Gods, please stop,” I beg through tears of laughter.

“I already adore you too much. I can’t hear you talk about tit-punching a woman to defend my honor.”

I snag her around the waist and haul her into my lap.

She’s vibrating with fury, and her raccoon chitters in encouragement from the top of a nearby bookshelf.

“Are you jealous?” I ask, suddenly curious.

“What?” she sputters, letting out a few indignant huffs, then crosses her arms and pouts.

“I’m too mature to be jealous. I am above jealousy.” Then she turns, grabs my face, and kisses me like we’ve sunk to the bottom of Lake Galen and I’m her only source of oxygen.

I groan, the sound deep and needy.

“Yes,” I pant between kisses.

“Only want you.”

She bites my bottom lip, and my hips thrust in response.

“We haven’t been together long,” Mor says quietly, frowning around the words and glaring at my mouth, as if she can see some remnant of Georgiana’s kiss.

I tighten my arms and shove a hand down the back of her leggings to get a nice, meaty handful of her bare ass.

“Then leave your mark on me, witch. Because I don’t want anyone doubting who I belong to ever again.”

Her response is frenzied, and we barely manage to flip the sign to Closed before she drags off my shirt.

For hours, Mor drives me wild by sucking hickey after hickey into my skin, growling in frustration when they each heal in a matter of minutes.

She rides me so hard that I swear the house will be too scandalized to ever open its shades again, but still, that’s not enough for my witch.

When we finally lie sweaty and exhausted, tangled in the sheets that we might have partially shredded, Mor tugs a blue ribbon out of a book where she was using it as a bookmark.

Using fingers that shake with weakness, she ties the ribbon around my wrist, knotting it tight.

“There,” she wheezes.

“You’re marked. You’re mine.”

Grinning so wide that I swear it will break my face, I let out a howl.