Page 36 of Jayce

An older woman who appears to have stepped off a bus returning from Woodstock takes a seat across from us. The man who joins her appears stuck in the same era. He doesn’t even seem to notice Damian and me as he stares at her.

“Willow, nice to see you,” Damian acknowledges.

She waves him off and points at me. “You, tell me why I should allow you to see these girls.”

Damian chuffs at the woman despite the obvious friendship they share.

“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.” She terrifies me, especially if she’s what I think she is.

Willow holds her hands out in front of her. Trembling, I place mine on top of hers. I’ll do anything, even trust a witch, to see my girls. To warn them. Even if they never forgive me.

Definitely a witch. Her eyes roll back as she grips my fingers until the bones rub against one another.

She lets go before breaking them in two. Her eyes return to normal and lock onto mine. “I’m satisfied. I’ll need a drop of your blood,” she says.

The man beside her hands her a knife.

Damian’s chuffs turn to growls.

Willow accepts the knife but thinks twice and hands it over to Damian. “Just a small prick on the tip of her finger to add to their charms. It won’t kill her.”

Reluctantly, he accepts the knife. “May I?”

I’m not used to someone asking permission instead of taking. I place my hand on the table in front of him. With a tenderness like I’ve never experienced, he holds my appendage before pricking my finger with the tip of the knife.

Willow hands Damian a small tube. “Just a couple of drops.”

He squeezes only what she asked for into the vial before sucking the tip of my finger into his mouth, followed by a kiss. Like I’ve seen on television when kids asked their mothers to kiss their booboo to make it better. I release the air his lips trapped in my lungs once he laid my hand in my lap.

“We’ll be right back,” Willow says while she and the man who no one’s bothered introducing leave the table.

Damian squeezes my hand under the table. “Are you okay?”

A tear rolls down my cheek. I look into eyes that already hold love for me—a love I’m afraid to embrace—and nod.

Damian stands and holds out his hand. “This way.”

I accept his help. He escorts me to a corner behind where we’d been sitting. My eyebrows furrow as I watch Willow talk to the air.

“Your daughters and their mates are with Willow. She’s removing the barrier, keeping you from seeing them. They encountered another Minotaur who claims one of them is his betrothed. The man mentioned their father and his promise that he could have one of them. After that, Anjal and Jayce—their mates—took them to Willow for protection.”

“You knew they were here the whole time.” I pull away from his touch with that knowledge.

Undeterred, he slides his arm around my waist and brings me in closer. “I had no doubts that you would pass with Willow, but would you not have me protect them no matter what? Even from you.”

I sigh. He’s right, yet it doesn’t make it any less painful.

I grip the front of Damian’s shirt with anticipation. Fear and hope hang heavy in the air.

I can’t make out what she’s saying to them, as if they’re all in a bubble. With each passing moment, the tension in the air grows thicker, like a veil obscuring the truth that I hoped they’d never learn.

As if emerging from the depths of a dream, my daughters materialize before my eyes, their forms slowly take shape in front of Willow.

At first, they appear as faint outlines, barely visible in the dim atmosphere that surrounds them.

But as the spell unravels, their features come into focus, their presence solidifying with each passing second.

I resist the urge to bury my face in Damian’s shirt to hide from them.

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