Page 44 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

Milo basked in the bright pieces laid before him, absorbing the possible future he might be lucky enough to cement into reality.

Milo continued working toward unraveling the potential futures tied to The True Witch, but her image remained veiled in light so bright it made the sun seem like a moonlit night. The Global Guild stayed in the town of Harmony Valley while Enchanter Evergreen worked on determining their next best step. He had a thousand plans. Part of him was honored by the belief TheGlobal Guild held in his branch; another part of him froze at the idea their next move came down to his decision, a decision that he needed to determine based on the possible whims of a witch he’d never encountered.

Would The True Witch raze another town that made its fortune on streamlining technology alongside magic? Sure, her motives remained secret, but Milo had pieced together that much. Every possibility of her next destructive destination seemed to tie into destroying those who made casting more accessible, who pushed the bounds of science, who decided magic should come second in this world.

Whoever The True Witch was, her ideology was that of an old belief, that of a woman who fancied tradition, one who prayed when she channeled her magic. He watched countless snippets of altars, flickering candles, sacrifices of earthly goods, tributes of blood made with oaths of loyalty. Few witches continued these practices, not since the earliest days of magics return. Mostly, people adapted, evolved, and we learned that our magic stemmed from other places. We didn’t have to pray to the four corners to channel our roots. We didn’t have to offer tributes to silent gods to access our branches.

Malice, bitter and filled with disgust, ate away at the edges of the veiled images of The True Witch. Every possibility Milo gleaned revealed how much she despised the world as it was and sought to bring it back to something it should’ve remained. Milo simply needed to discern which possible act of destruction, of carnage, would peak this vile witch’s desires most.

“Well, well, well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a sultry voice with a thick southern twang said, pulling Milo from his visions as he took in the sight of a gorgeous man.

He waltzed across the front yard, a swagger in his hips with each step he took. The man was tall, taller than Milo by a few inches, standing at 6’5” or 6’6” and built like a titan with broadshoulders. His physical build was only further accentuated by the sapphire blue corset vest that showed off his tight waist and muscular chest. The corset had a definite allure, drawing attention to his bare arms, too, flaunting his huge muscles. I followed the veins along his flexed biceps, and my eyes traveled down his inner left forearm, where a tattoo spelled out “Texas Daddy” in some fancy calligraphy font.

Seriously? This guy.

I recognized Enchanter Diaz, whose username—Texas Daddy—popped up across multiple platforms since Milo and him interacted a bit on social media, given how they both built their audiences on thirst traps showing off their good looks, annoying so-called charm, and skilled casting.

Enchanter Diaz had quite a contradictory style, which he seemed to take delight in as he often wore a cowboy hat with matching boots that were tied together by the laced up satin corset vest.

Milo seemed to like the look too as his eyes traveled down the fellow enchanter’s narrow waist and hung on the man’s thick thighs that seemed even larger due to the skintight jeans that complimented all of Diaz’s assets. Assets Milo continued admiring with each step the enchanter took.

I rolled my eyes. Whatever. We all had crushes, and this lust or pining for Enchanter Diaz went way back to Milo’s days as a rookie enchanter.

While Milo fought a daydream boner, I unraveled how well he knew this Enchanter Diaz and why he’d been brought in. It turned out he had worked as a traveling member of The Global Guild for over a decade now, a member who accompanied covens for missions as their tracker. That made sense. Milo’s magic would help locate this dangerous True Witch, but Diaz’s skills would allow them to pinpoint her presence.

Turned out, Enchanter Diaz had visited Chicago years back when Milo was fortunate enough to partner with the expert tracker and trail a dangerous warlock that led them all across the city until they landed in Gwendolyn’s Guns & Gals, the private burlesque club that also served as an illegal shop for magical merchandise.

Milo still recalled the scowl on Cassidy Gardner’s face when Enchanter Diaz and Enchanter Evergreen tore her club apart dueling a particularly difficult warlock. A smile crept onto Milo’s face at thinking back to how much Cassidy shouted at him, threatened him, and screamed bloody murder at the Global Guild witch, Enchanter Diaz. But when the global witch dropped a hefty apology in the form of buying out the most expensive club in Chicago for the evening, the night turned into a blur of fuzzy recollections.

Flashes of beautiful women, lipstick marks, booze, dancing—so much dancing, Cassidy cracking one small smile, laughter, passion, sweet skin, and desires not quite met as Milo and Diaz both left with different women and never had the good fortune of crossing paths again.

“You remember Vanessa?” Enchanter Diaz asked.

“Yeah.” Milo nodded, recalling the petite burlesque dancer who pulled Diaz onto the stage, pinning him to the chair she’d used as a prop and turning the burly man who was nearly twice her size into a play toy. “Pretty sure I do.”

Milo’s breathing hitched when he recalled the two of them together, imagination already twisting the memory at the edges.

“She finally made an honest man outta me.” Diaz wiggled his fingers, revealing the wedding band. His pink and black fingernails shimmered against the sunlight.

“Really?” Milo’s bright blue eyes widened, then he smiled with genuine excitement for them. “Here I was worried Cassidy had run the poor girl out of town.”

Vanessa was one of her more popular dancers, destined for a bright future in Chicago the last time Milo saw her on stage, but when she stopped appearing at the club, all Cassidy said was, “Good riddance. No one needs her here anyway” and then merely glowered if Enchanter Evergreen alluded to the woman when stopping in to visit his undercity friend. The news served as a reminder that potential futures were potential for a reason and could take a sharp turn from any unlikely interaction.

“Cassidy came pretty close.” Enchanter Diaz grinned, a minxy expression almost as captivating as Milo’s. “But Vanessa was done with that life, felt like her dances were behind her.”

The dance that brought the couple together played in Milo’s mind. Diaz’s intense stare, the sharpness of his jaw when Vanessa ran her gloved fingers across his face. Vanessa’s hauntingly pale porcelain skin under the bright lights, her strut, her stance, the bounce of her black curls. Each perfect movement of her body was etched into Milo’s memory.

Soon, the truth of the memory fizzled away, and suddenly, Enchanter Diaz wore a sapphire corset vest. Oh great, Milo’s mind had wandered into a fantasy where Diaz and his wife performed a show just for Milo. They grinded against each other and the chair in equal measure, tearing at each other’s clothing but careful not to rip the corsets, which Milo found utterly arousing.

Music blared, synced to the dance, to the lust, to the passion. Milo’s teeth flashed in his mind, biting and tearing at the strings that held the corsets together. He unraveled a gift meant just for him, and I tried to simmer my connection because while fantasies were normal, I really didn’t want to see the hot naked couple my boyfriend pictured in his head. He’d gone from a single musing of bending Enchanter Diaz over to suddenly living out the most erotic club sex his imagination could fathom.

Most people didn’t even realize their thoughts had turned into carnal fantasies the first few seconds. Milo’s passing thoughts had only been a total of six seconds, yet they felt infinitely long as I waited for him to reel back his desires.

“Fucking hell.” I huffed with utter contempt now that Milo’s fantasy had fully actualized.

No longer did Enchanter Diaz and his wife parade through the halls of Milo’s fetishes. They’d merely been tools for him to piece together his true desire, one he was completely aware of as it bounced around his head.

“Seriously?” I grumbled, half tempted to whisper, persuade, or tempt him back to the hot couple that danced in his mind.

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