Page 3 of Captivating Magic

Her eyes widened. “You’re serious. You think you can distort conversations?”

“I don’tthink, Ebba. Iknow.”

“You’renota wizard, Harry,” she teased, altering the famous quote. When he didn’t crack a smile, she repeated it. Slower, as if talking to a patient in a mental ward.

His irritation ratcheted up, and he curbed the desire to snap at her. Never before had he revealed what he was, but if he’d given any consideration to the matter prior to that moment, he’d have done it differently. Offered her proof of some sort.

“No. I’m a warlock, or perhaps you might’ve heard the term male witch.”

Her expression turned incredulous, and she eased sideways in her chair. Lo was positive she wasn’t aware of her instinctive move, but he’d been expecting it.

“You’re trying to prank me, right?” The wobble in her tone revealed her nervousness, but also a tiny bit of hurt. Any annoyance he’d felt fled in the face of her deeper emotions.

“No, ma’am, I’m not.” He clasped her hand and held tight when she tried to draw it back. “Magic exists in everyday life, and I’m not talking about Wiccan practitioners or Paganism. I’m talking actual magic—manifestations, conjurings, spells.”

“You’re cracked in the head!”

He suppressed a satisfied smirk as he waited. Any second, she’d realize her overly loud exclamation had never reached the ears of those around them.

She frowned.

His brows shot up, and he couldn’t prevent his smug smile.

With new eyes, she studied their surroundings. Opening her mouth, Ebba screamed loud enough to give him tinnitus for life and have would-be heroes charging to her rescue.

Ifthey could hear her.

No one responded.

“They can’t hear me? None of them?” Her vocal tremble was telling.

“Ebba. Take a deep breath and remember who I am. Who my sister is. You’ve known our family your entire life, and we’ve never sought to harm you or anyone else,” he said soothingly.

Her gaze snapped to his, and a smidgeon of anxiety eased from her face. Her frown deepened as she looked down at their joined hands. “Will you let go of me, please?”

“I will if you promise to hear me out and not run away.”

“I promise,” she agreed, but her hands shook, and Lo had only minutes to convince her she was safe.

Ebba didn’t knowwhat the hell to think. Her bloodcurdling scream was thrasher movie-worthy and the sort that brought people running or, at the very least, turned heads. She’d been ready with the excuse that she’d seen the tarantula of all spiders or a mutant mouse, should anyone question it.

But no one had responded! No one!

And now, here she was, trapped in a soundproof bubble with the man of her dreams. Or the guy who used to be the man of her dreams. She hadn’t figured on the fact he was a warlock, witch, wizard, mage, or whatever the fuck he called himself in this situation.

Their gazes locked, and she saw intelligence, confidence, and perhaps a little wariness regarding her behavior in his amber eyes. That slightest vulnerability encouraged her to stay instead of sprinting out of there like an Olympian going for gold. Also, she didn’t run, so there was that.

“Why hide what you are from friends?” she asked.

“Did you see your reaction?” he countered in a dry-as-dirt tone with one dark-brown brow raised halfway up his forehead in a cocky, questioning way.

The point was conceded with a nod. “Fair. Why reveal it to me now?”

“Instinct,” he replied succinctly. “Something is telling me to trust you. To let you inside.”

A tad more anxiety eased, and she squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I guess.”

His sudden grin stole the air from her lungs. Only Laszlo Thorne possessed the ability to make her forget to breathe. Never anyone else, as hard as she’d searched forthe onethroughout her thirty-six years. Why? She couldn’t say. Certainly he was handsome, but not drop-dead gorgeous like other family members. The Thornes had enviable genetics.

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