Page 68 of Once Upon a Curse for True Love
Andromeda nodded mechanically as emotions crashed through her—hope, excitement, disappointment, confusion, anger—each one vying for dominance.
“Thank you for the opportunity,” she said, rising from the chair with as much dignity as she could muster.“I’ll… consider it carefully.”
King stood as well, extending his arm across the desk.“That’s all I ask, Miss Swan.”
She shook his hand, and as she turned to leave, he added, “And regardless of your decision, thank you for your service to this department.Your contributions have been quite… extraordinary.”
The compliment got lost in the mess of her conflicted feelings.Andromeda nodded again and made her way to the door, feeling as if she were moving underwater, everything heavier and slower.
She leaned against the corridor wall, eyes closed.A perfect job or a chance at love?Security or passion?Head or heart?
Why couldn’t she have both?
With a deep breath, Andromeda pushed herself away from the wall and headed for the exit.She had a week to decide whether to build her future with or without Donatello Malatesta.Seven days to choose between the two things she’d never imagined wanting—until now when she wanted them both desperately.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Handcuffs and Heartstrings
DONATELLO
Donatello winced as he reached for the spice rack, the movement pulling at the healing wound in his side.The magimedics had done their best, but some injuries—particularly those inflicted by ancient, soul-sucking undead wizards—required time more than magical medicine to heal.And patience, which had never been his strong suit.
He tossed diced onions into the sizzling pan.After a while, he added the tomatoes and let them marinate.
The sauce was almost ready, and still no sign of Andromeda.He glanced at the clock—she’d left the house hours ago for what should have been a quick meeting.He tried not to worry.She was a grown witch capable of handling herself.But the memory of the lich was still raw, and having her out of his sight for too long made him irrationally anxious.
Finally, the front door clicked open, followed by the sound of her boots in the hallway, the gentle thud of her bag hitting the entryway table, and the rustle of her coat as she shrugged it off and hung it up.
“In the kitchen,” he called, adjusting the heat under the pan.
Her footsteps paused before continuing toward him.When she appeared in the doorway, Donatello’s smile faltered at the strange expression on her face—somewhere between distracted and determined, with a flash of something like guilt.
“What the hex are you doing?”Andromeda demanded, her eyes narrowing as they swept over him standing at the stove.“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I got hungry,” he replied, turning back to the sauce to hide his wince as another twinge shot through his side.“Someone was taking her sweet time coming home.”
“Don’t be dramatic.I wasn’t gone that long.”She marched over, her hands already reaching for the wooden spoon he held.“Give me that.Back to bed, now.Seriously, your side—”
“Is fine.I was going crazy in bed.I needed to move.”
Andromeda sighed.She hopped up to perch on the counter beside the stove, her legs swinging.“It smells good,” she admitted.
“It’s the fresh basil.”He offered her a taste from the spoon.Her eyes fluttered closed as she savored it, and that familiar tug in his chest returned—inevitable now, like clockwork, whenever she did just about anything.
“Perfect,” she declared, licking her lips.The gesture made him reconsider his cooking priorities.
“So.”He turned back to the pan.“What kept you so long?I thought you were going to sign paperwork and check on the demonic pincushion.”
“Quill is fine.He’ll be delighted to learn about your concern.”
Donatello nodded, waiting for the rest.When it didn’t come, he glanced up to find her studying her fingernails with unusual intensity.
“And the station?”he prompted.“I’m assuming the paperwork took longer than expected?”
“Something like that,” she murmured.
That unease in his stomach intensified.Andromeda Swan was many things—sarcastic, brilliant, occasionally reckless—but evasive wasn’t typically one of them.Not with him, at least.Not anymore.
