Page 32 of A Match Made in Coven
If he thought being ignored was bad, halfway through the meal, Lorcan had to reconsider when his mother turned her cool, appraising gaze on him. “I’ve heard some troubling rumors, Lorcan. That you’ve been seen fraternizing with a member of the Callidora coven.” Her words cut with the precision of a blade.
The accusation hung in the air, laden with centuries of animosity between their families. Lorcan met his mother’s stare head-on, refusing to flinch. “I’ve been working withDetectiveCallidora to find out who killed Elijah—my best friend. Remember him, Mother?”
Cordelia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Associating with a Callidora is bad enough, but to be seen fraternizing in public places like coffee shops is utterly unacceptable.”
Lorcan’s temper flared, a hot surge of anger that threatened to boil over. But his mother wasn’t finished. “And while we’re on the subject of your questionable choices, let’s discuss your insistence on working at that human business. If you worked in a proper wizarding establishment, you wouldn’t be mixed up with scum humans and having to investigate their murders.”
Something inside Lorcan snapped. The dismissive way his mother spoke of Elijah, reducing his friend’s memory to a mere inconvenience, was more than he could bear. He gritted his teeth. “You have no right to dismiss Elijah’s life with such disregard. He was a good man, and his death deserves justice, not disdain.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Lorcan pushed back his chair and stood. The scrape of wood against marble echoed like a thunderclap in the sudden silence. He could feel the weight of every stare, the shock and disapproval radiating from his relatives.
But he was done. Done with their snobbery, their heartlessness, their obsession with outdated feuds and social standing. He’d rather spend a lifetime in the company of someone like Sarah Michelle, with her wit and her courage and her unwavering sense of right and wrong, than another minute suffocating under the yoke of his family’s expectations.
Without a word, Lorcan turned on his heel and marched out of the dining room, leaving a chorus of scandalized whispers in his wake. Each step felt lighter than the last, as if he were shedding the chains that had bound him for so long.
He didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain—he was done living by anyone’s rules but his own. And if that meant chasing justice alongside a fiery detective with a smile that made his heart stumble, then so be it.
Lorcan stepped out into the cool night air, grinning like a fool. He felt alive. Alive and ready to raise a little hell.
He didn’t give a hex what coven Sarah Michelle was from. He liked the witch and was done pretending otherwise.
Chapter Eighteen
Backrooms, Backups, and Betrayals
SARAH MICHELLE
Sarah Michelle sighed heavily as she stared at her phone, the morning light filtering into the kitchen. Andromeda sat across from her, sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow questioningly. She pretended not to see.
With a few taps, Sarah Michelle composed a terse text to Lorcan.
It’s not safe to bring a civilian to interrogate a notorious criminal. I’m going alone
She hit send. It was for his own protection, not because of the disapproving looks and harsh words from her family at last night’s dinner.
Her phone buzzed with Lorcan’s reply.
Did you get as big a headache as I did from a family scolding after we were spotted together?
A reluctant smile parted her lips. Why did he also have to be funny?
You too?
She typed back.
Yep
It didn’t matter that he was being nice. As they texted back and forth, Sarah Michelle reiterated it was too risky for him to join her. He was a civilian, untrained. Something could go wrong.
Lorcan insisted she couldn’t go alone without backup. Period.
Is it because I’m a woman?
Sarah Michelle demanded, her temper flaring.
No, it’s because going solo is reckless for anyone
Lorcan shot back.
