Page 39 of Captivating Magic

As Lo carriedEbba to her favorite armchair, she considered what he’d said.

Sweet Ebba.

He’d called her that since the day they spent at Lake Lure. From the moment those words left his lips, she’d cherished them, secretly believing in her heart of hearts he must care if he’d graced her with a nickname. Over the years, he’d shortened it to “Sweet” and only used it when Charlotte wasn’t present. Knowing his endearment was void of artifice and not intended to keep her pining for him, Ebba treasured the sentiment.

The atmosphere in her apartment turned heavy, and the air crackled with what she’d learned was an incoming witch. But she wasn’t expecting the jaw-dropping hottie who arrived.

Although dressed casually, he gave off a wealthy man vibe. With a single look at his duds, one could recognize the quality and guess at the cost. The jeans weren’t your average off-the-rack brand, or if they were, Ebba couldn’t afford to set foot in that store for fear she’d destroy something and spend the rest of her life paying the debt off. Hottie McHotterson’s sweater was black and fitted him like an overly friendly glove. With certainty, it wasn’t the type to pill or pull, and it was likely to last a lifetime if he cared to keep it that long.

Yet it wasn’t his attire that drew the notice. It was the pure perfection of his symmetrical features. His hair was stylish and on the longer side but nothing like Castor’s shoulder-length tresses. None of that was the distraction. No, it was his eyes that drew and held one’s attention. Almost black, they had the merest hint of a silver starburst, keeping them from blending with his pupils.

With skin a similar shade to Lo’s olive-like tones yet not as dark as Rafe’s Mediterranean coloring, the man was striking and positively delicious.

Sensual and hypnotic.

Ebba could’ve stared at him forever and never grown bored.

Those obsidian eyes traveled over her with a thoroughness that would’ve left her breathless had she needed to breathe. The sweeping glance wasn’t sexual, instead leaving the impression he was cataloging everything about her, including her aura, temperament, and place in his magical world.

“Who is he?” she whispered in awe.

As if by some miracle he’d heard her, the left side of his mouth kicked up, and she stilled. He was what she imagined Deathshould’velooked like. Souls would willingly go with him if beckoned. Hell, he’d be the Pied Piper of the dead.

“I’m Damian Dethridge, Ms. James.”

His tone was smooth, cultured, and seductive to the extreme. She wanted to crawl into his skin and never leave. It wasn’t a normal reaction, and she worried his true intent was to capture her soul. Did the others see him?

A look at Laszlo assured her they did.

“What are you?” she asked Damian.

“I’m the Aether and maintain the balance between good and evil.”

“TheAether, as in only one?”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment. “There were others before me, and there will be others after. However, for now, I’m the reigning one.”

“And everyone callsmean attention whore,” Castor quipped.

Damian laughed, and Ebba was starstruck.

“Holy shit.”

“We all say that when he appears,” Castor said dryly, crossing the room to shake the other man’s hand. They shared one ofthose brief bro hugs, indicating familiarity, and as they stepped apart, the room lit again.

A mini female replica of the Aether stepped through a rift in space. His muttered curse was immediate, and his chin dropped to his chest, the picture of a harried father.

The girl’s chin jerked upward, and she wore an expression of faux superiority. Ebba had to wonder if the child’s brave face came from knowing she was about to be scolded.

She had vast experience in the defiance department, too.

“Don’t yell at me, Papa. I’ve never met a real, live ghost before,” the girl said, her eyes darting toward Ebba, still held by Lo.

“I’m almost certain that’s a lie.” With a pained air, Damian pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed. “But please tell me, when have I ever truly yelled at you, Beastie?”

The girl grinned, and Ebba blinked at the sudden transformation. Her elfin face was pure mischief and adorable. Feeling the similar draw to the child as she had to the father, but without the sexual magnetism, Ebba tapped Lo’s shoulder to indicate she wanted down.

“I’m Sabrina.” Gesturing to Damian with her thumb, she added, “But Papa calls me Beastie.”

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