Page 17 of The Witch is Back

“Emma.”

“—I’ll be your husband. You really want me to cheat on you?”

Her chin jutted up. “It won’t be real.”

“Real enough.” He wasn’t sure why he was angry; she was giving him a free pass. He still had to figure out how to shut down the Joining clause, but she was agreeing to marry him, letting him have his single rights, and was saving his mom. That was all that mattered.

He hung his head, annoyed, frustrated with the situation. No matter how they got to this place, they were stuck with each other. The least he could do was make it as easy on both of them as possible.

“Fine,” he almost snapped before catching himself and evening the tone. “Thanks. So, totally separate lives. Once the rings are exchanged and the kiss seals the deal, we’ll be off to our own corners.”

Her hands fidgeted at her sides. “Yes.”

“Great.” He felt itchy, and it wasn’t helping things. He should be celebrating. He was getting what he needed. “But until then,” he continued, still with the tight edge to his voice, “I think it’s best if I move in with you.”

Her mouth dropped open.

Before she could say her favorite word, he held up a hand. “Hear me out. The Divining will start now that the official engagement has been announced. You know it’s designed to test us, to see how we’ll match as a couple. It’ll be easier for the magic to work if we’re together.” And wouldn’t it be interesting to see what the Divining picked up?

It was a witch tradition, one of those long-held ones that they didn’t stand a chance of skirting. Every couple had to undertake the Divining. At the basest level, it was a chance for witch families to show off their offspring. The magic assessed a couple’s strengths and compatibilities as they emerged as a potential new power unit. It was the crowning glory to an engagement.

Nobody knew exactly how the magic worked to test each partner and weigh up their traits. A spell would be cast by the High Family, and the magic would take on a life of its own, judging, testing, deciding as the couple went through their regular lives, revealing the individual traits that they’d bring to the partnership. Traits would show up written on their wrists underneath official tattoos. Brands to wear with honor. Apparently.

Eventually the magic would show its decision and would form rings they’d wear for the rest of their lives. Some couples got gold, others silver, some platinum, others cobalt or emerald. Each precious stone or metal with its own meaning and power.

But it wasn’t just the Divining that had prompted Bastian to insist on moving into Emmaline’s house. He needed to keep an eye on her, to make sure she’d actually go through with it. Even if he had to swallow the past and put on his charm like new clothes every day, he would get her to that altar.

For now, at least, Emmaline fell in with his plans as she gave a short, less-than-gracious nod of reluctant agreement.

He let out a breath and with a thought, two glasses of champagne appeared in his hands. He held one out. “A toast to us then, my bride.”

She accepted it, a telltale shake in her hand making the bubbles fizz.

He lifted his glass, ignoring that the bubbles in his own glass trembled. “Thank you, Emmaline. Emma. Really. I’ll do anything I can to get this over and done as soon as possible.”

A flash of something on her face. “Naturally.”

He paused, having the feeling he’d put his foot in it again. He used to be good at this, but being away from the witch circle for all these years had robbed him of more than time, it seemed. He doubted he’d fit in so easily with his society friends now, and to tell the truth, he had little interest in the invitations that had piled high in the days since his return. She might not be Emmaline anymore, but he wasn’t the old Bastian either.

He focused on her face and the task at hand. “We’ll get through the Divining and the wedding and then be done with each other. At least for the next decade.”

She tipped her glass and drank.

His gaze slid to her throat as she swallowed. He should be happy. Right? But everything felt so...shaky. He needed her to want to marry him. He needed to feel in control so this sick, panicky feeling that she’d back out would retreat. From somewhere far away, he heard himself say, “I think we need something to seal the deal.”

She eyed him. “Wasn’t that what the champagne was for?”

With her sudden nerves obvious, his settled. He floated the champagne out of their hands with a thought. “Nothing bad. Just a kiss.”

“Forget it.”

He caught a flash of something from her, an emotion she felt so strongly she was projecting out from behind her shields. It was there and gone before he could identify it.

He eased closer. “We’re going to kiss at some point. Might as well get the first one over with.”

“Charming,” she drawled, although her eyes had widened.

He didn’t allow himself to grin at this flash of sass. “Take one for the team.”

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