didn’t comprehend. The image of him lying like that, in that room, was all too familiar. Only her memory wasn't of a man with shiny dark eyes. It was of a man with bright emerald eyes.
Tears blurred her vision as she reflected on her existence. Her parents’ love and sacrifice, the coven's endangerment… her life – it had started much like this, moments after her dad lay in that room, just as Quin was lying, and looked at her mom, just as Quin was looking at her.
A lump consumed her throat as Quin's dark eyebrows pinched together. “Layla?”
“You have to move,” she blurted, squeezing her eyes shut. “We have to do something different, lie a different way or… something.”
“Oh,” he exclaimed.
Layla felt his weight leave the mattress and opened one eye, finding him standing beside the bed. “I’m sorry,” she offered, already missing his warmth. “But I can't handle the similarities. It's weird and too much to take in.”
“I get it. You don't have to explain.”
“Thank you.”
“Should we change rooms?”
“Can we make it look different? Maybe if we move the bed and I face the wall. There are enough pillows to hide the headboard.”
Quin scanned the room then smiled. “Close your eyes.”
“Okay,” she agreed, grinning as she obeyed.
Several minutes passed before he crawled into bed, but she patiently waited, beyond thankful for all the ways he took care of her. His body heat crept over her right side as he scooted close. Then he laid his fingers over her heart and kissed her lips.
“That was tasty,” she whispered, licking her grin.
He kissed her again then leaned back. “Open your eyes.”
She did, and her lungs yanked in air as she glanced between him and his creation. “Oh my god, Quin. It's beautiful.”
They were surrounded by a night sky complete with distant planets, a bright cratered moon, and a constellation of her name. She leaned up, sweeping her gaze left to right, and her mouth fell open. Lush, green grass covered the floor, and the furniture and walls had disappeared, replaced by gently rolling hills, dark sky and more bright stars. Layla leaned over and pulled at the comforter, finding the illusion of a grass covered mound where the bed should be.
“Oh my god.” She straightened and found Quin’s eyes. “You have got to be my imagination running away with me. You can't be real.”
“You like it?”
“Are you kidding? It's perfect. You're perfect. The things you do for me… they’re incredible.”
“I want you to be happy,” he replied, touching her smile.
She sobered as she took his hand, her forehead wrinkling over moist eyes. “I don’t need to be spoiled to be happy with you. You’re not my slave.”
“Don't,” he objected.
“Don’t what?” she countered.
“Don't take anything Finley spews at you to heart. I know that’s where this is coming from, but he’s wrong. I do things for you because I love you, not because you demand them of me, and this coven takes care of you because you’re part of the family, not because we feel indebted or subservient. The only reason Finley made those remarks is because he doesn’t understand the bonds we share.”
“I guess,” she conceded, returning his hand to her heart. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For loving me, and for giving me so much. Someday I’ll find a way to make you as happy as you make me.”
“You made me the happiest man on earth the day you walked into my life. Mission accomplished.”
“We’ll see,” she countered, smiling as she pulled him in for a kiss. “I love you.”
He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Now that makes me happier than I deserve to be.”
Chapter 4
Agro hated hexless fashion – the constricting cuts, conservative coverage, and itchy material. And he hated hexless establishments – their mundane style and mediocre service. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d donned slacks, a collared shirt, and a pair of shoes to mingle with