by Lola White
“Yet that doesn’t change the fact that someone is trying to hurt either her or Georgeanne.” Silviu tapped the table with a rigid finger. “You had better make a list of all the Levy men capable of that amount of magic.”
“Are there any men with that level of ability?” Christiana asked. She winced at her host. “Forgive my rudeness, but I was under the impression that the Levy men couldn’t claim such talents. I think it would be wise to include—”
A cackling laugh had all three looking over at an old man sitting to Christiana’s immediate right. Silviu’s spine tensed as he realized that the man and the tiny old woman next to him had had a front row seat to their conversation. He cursed his thoughtlessness in broaching the topic at the table, and could only put it down to his preoccupation with Georgie’s safety.
His father was right—she made him vulnerable.
The old man leaned in, almost comically dramatic as he lowered his voice to a harsh whisper and held Silviu’s stare. “Want a magically strong Levy man? Look no further than Eliasz. Perhaps he doesn’t wish for marriage as much as you assume?”
Immediately dismissing the accusation for all the reasons Fredrik had just listed, Silviu met the old man’s maniacal gaze. “Perhaps you are the one laboring under false assumptions, sir.”
“He’s the strongest of us, certainly of the men. Why shouldn’t he wish to find his Match instead of the witch you’re all trying to saddle him with?” The man reached for the papery hand of the old woman to his right, lifting her knuckles to his lips.
Silviu watched the silver light haloing the old man flare into gold as he kissed the woman’s hand. They were Magic Matches, their connection obviously strengthened by decades together. Silviu breathed through the pang in his chest as he realized that the old couple had achieved exactly what he wished for in his own marriage.
“Matches are rare,” Silviu told the old man. “Eliasz is too practical to hold out for what could be a pipe dream. Ileana would bring a great deal of magic to Fredrik’s grandson, your future branch heir.”
The old man’s mood suddenly brightened and he winked at Fredrik. “Levy women are stronger, of course. We marry for magic in this Family so our Fathers are not at too much of a disadvantage against the rest of the covens.”
Next to him, Christiana nodded. “A point I was about to make myself, sir. Fredrik, I suggest your list should include the women, too.”
The old man laughed again. “Yes, our women are the strongest in magic.”
Chapter Fifteen
Georgeanne
Silviu entered her bedroom a bare moment after his peremptory knock at her door. Georgie had neither the desire to answer nor the time to prepare before he was seated on the bed and casting a silencing spell that coasted down the walls like a metallic bubble.
She stilled her inner nervousness and raised her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk.”
She watched his lips move, saw the darkening of his eyes and the loosening of his muscles as he settled back against the headboard. She saw the bulge between his legs before he pulled his feet onto the bed and crossed his ankles.
Georgie was skeptical. “Sure. You want to talk.”
“Yes, my love, is that so strange?” Silviu’s gaze roved over her body, and she thanked God that she wore a silk pants set, rather than a nightgown. “Delectable as you are, I haven’t seen you for ten years and we’ve barely had a chance to speak about anything important.”
“Two attacks on either me or your sister aren’t important?”
“Of course they are. But we have a future to discuss and that is what is currently holding all my attention.”
Georgie made a non-committal noise and looked around almost desperately, cataloguing all the places she couldn’t sit. There was no helpful vanity bench, no small chair tucked into a corner. She refused to sit on the bed while Silviu was sprawled across it.
That was much too dangerous.
In the end, she leaned back against the windowsill and ignored the discomfort of its hard edge. “What would you like to discuss?”
His lips flattened. “Let’s start with why you never tried to contact me at any point in the past ten years.”
She couldn’t stop the tension from filling her shoulders. “For God’s sake, Silviu. Are we really going to rehash the past?”
“Yes.”
“What we did was wrong.” Her curls slid against her jaw as she tossed her head. “We were too young and we had no business… You had no business touching me.”
His eyes flashed dangerously, his voice slid into a silken hiss that sent a prickle over her nape. “Is that what you really think?”
“Everyone says so.” She couldn’t hold his steely gaze and dropped her eyes to the floor. “You were seventeen, much too old for me at the time.”
“Did it feel wrong, Georgie? Because it felt right to me. Perfect, even.”
Memories slammed through her brain. The miserable shame at not having magic and the deep desire to have Silviu by her side on a cool Beltane’s night when everyone else was off dancing around distant bonfires. The moment he’d stepped into her bedroom and poured a new breed of magic over her developing senses. A shining moment of happiness in her otherwise regimented and strict childhood.
A happiness that had been ripped away when they’d been caught. A warm feeling that had turned to a cold ball of lead in her belly as she’d been marched in front of her grandmother and denounced as a dangerous, reckless liability to her Family. Accused of giving too much to Silviu, who would surely use her infatuation against her.
The degradation of being forced to answer Vasile Lovasz’s much too personal questions. The icy knot of suspicion at just how Silviu had come to be in her room when she’d wanted him most and the sneaking suspicion that she’d been set up so the Lovaszes could capitalize on her feelings for Silviu before she learned better.
It had been a brutal lesson in controlling emotions, in minimizing weakness.
“What do you want me to say?” Georgie wrapped her arms around her middle and held on tight. “My father found us naked in my bed and barely let me throw on a robe before he dragged me down to stand trial. My grandmother and your father had a grand time with that one. You think I should have been willing to humiliate myself again by defying their orders to keep away from you? At our age, did you think we could run off into some romantic life together?”
Silviu jerked straight, one leg sweeping off the bed to plant his foot on the floor. “My father? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the inquisition. Being interrogated until I felt as if I could sink through the floor with embarrassment. How did yours go?”
He shook his head. “There was nothing like that for me. In the morning, you were gone and by that night we were flying back to Romania.”
Nothing but truth shone in his eyes. It was heightened by the glow of regret, magnified until it reached across the room and drove a sharp spike through Georgie’s chest. She hoped she wasn’t just seeing what she wanted to see. She looked away and clenched her jaw. “Well, I didn’t get off that easily.”
“What did they do?”
“They didn’t let up until I described every single thing you did to me.”
“No wonder they didn’t let me say goodbye, then.” To his credit, he winced rather than gloat. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “If I had known, I would not have allowed them do such a thing to you.”
“How could you have stopped it?” Georgie let her arms drop to catch the edge of the windowsill in a bruising grip. “What power do you think you have over them? Even now, you act as if you can just order the world to your liking, but it doesn’t work that way.”
He threw her a patronizing look. “You believe you can, my love, so that makes us a perfect pair.”
His arrogance knew no bounds, but she was beginning to get used to it. Not that her acclimation made it any less irritating. “I have no illusion
s when it comes to my grandmother and your father. As for the rest, I change things through diplomacy and hard work, Silviu. I change things by offering a better solution. You think you can snap your fingers and make the world jump.”
Some expression came and went over his face and she immediately wondered what secrets he was keeping from her. The weight of suspicion was familiar after ten years of carrying it around. She didn’t have the chance to probe before he changed the subject.
“You made a name for yourself, Georgie. I’ve heard countless stories of how clever you are, how fearless.”
She braced herself against the warmth his words brought to her heart. “But you didn’t know about the Indian witch-hunts?”
He shook his head. “There are no patriarchal Families in India. I knew you were there, but I could never pinpoint your location or learn what you were doing. Do you know, when I first tried to fly into the country, I was denied entry?”
She hadn’t known that. She wondered how she’d missed it, in fact, but knew that particular event wouldn’t have made him happy. Neither would it have discouraged him.
“Ten years is a long time, Georgeanne,” he said quietly.
“I’m here now.” She shrugged and waited, mistrusting what he was after with this new turn of conversation.
“I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let them keep us apart like that.” He lifted a hand and crooked his fingers. “Come sit by me.”
He was tempting. The alluring length of his body was displayed in her bed, his hand lifted to catch her if she decided to fall into his arms—knowingly dangerous to her future aspirations, yet promising such a profound sense of safety. He was manipulative and she was weaker than she would ever admit out loud.
She couldn’t let herself trust him again.
Georgie laughed—a little bitterly. “I don’t think so. I get over there and you’ll talk me out of my clothes. I can’t afford that.”
“Feeling vulnerable, my love?” His grin was wicked, and all male.
“I never feel vulnerable,” she told him. “But I am a good little Davenold who follows her Mother’s command. I won’t let a weekend in Poland steal my future.”
“Ah, the future. That’s what I wished to talk about.” In a fluid move, Silviu stood up and came to her. Discounting her refusal to sit with him and not giving her another chance to deny him, he scooped her up in his arms and returned to the bed.
“I said no, Silviu. I told you my grandmother doesn’t want—”
“And I have told you to trust me. I have promised not to take you so far you lose your Family position.” His voice softened. “I just want to hold you.”
Georgie struggled against him for a moment, but reluctantly relaxed when he tucked her into his side and made no move to touch her more intimately. She tried to ignore how nice it felt to simply be held by him. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t feel safe and cozy, that it wasn’t in her best interest to get used to his heat, his scent or his support.
His deep voice whispered over her ear. “How many children would you like, Georgeanne?”
“We’re going to have one, Silviu. Just like every other married witch couple.”
“Why do you insist on rejecting the truth of our connection? We will have more, my beautiful Magic Match. So how many? I am thinking perhaps four.”
He tightened his arms around her, keeping her against him as she shifted to look up at him. “Four?”
“It’s a good number. I would like to name our daughter Amelia, after my mother.” His brows lowered. “I don’t remember her, but I think it would be nice.”
“I won’t let you pressure me into having a child early,” she warned him. “I’m young enough to wait a while and I want things for myself before I’m sidetracked with a baby.”
He stared down at her for a long moment, his silver eyes darkening and swirling with an emotion she read easily. His face wore an expression more open than he showed others, letting her have a glimpse of his thoughts. It was a look she remembered from their childhood, when he held nothing back from her whenever they were alone.
Not for the first time, Georgie wondered how he could allow himself to be so vulnerable when he knew she would use it against him. She could only assume he was subtly manipulating her feelings for him. A ruse to gain her undivided loyalty and use that against her and her Family.
“I know what you want, my love,” he said. “You want what I want. To lead your Family to further greatness. To lead our community along a path that gains us personal advantage and perhaps even makes the world a little bit better. You want to create a stable future for our children, all four of them.”
“That’s what every Family heir should want, Silviu.”
“Yes, but I know you, Georgeanne. You want more for yourself than what a career in politics or Family leadership can bring you.”
“You don’t know me, Silviu. Ten years changes a person.” She shook her head and tried to push away from him, but was forced to surrender when he refused to let her go. “I grew up. Rumors and charming anecdotes from other witches don’t really give you a great deal of insight to who I became. Everything I do is for my Family, the Davenolds. I suggest you remember that.”
“I do know you.” For the first time since he entered her bedroom his patience cracked. “I may not know everything about you, but I know you. Your heart and soul. I know the things that will make you angry, the things that will make you laugh—”
“Don’t fool yourself!”
“I know that you want love, Georgie. That you need it. I know that you’ve been watched your entire life, everyone around you waiting for you to either prove yourself or fail miserably.”
“I don’t fail.”
His arms became crushing. “I know. You’ve been forced to be the best, better than everyone else at nearly everything else. But their pride or acceptance or respect or fear isn’t why you’ve achieved the things you have.”
She started struggling against him in earnest as his words hit too close to their mark. “I’ve been successful because that’s what I do. I am responsible, I am smart, I am good at my damn job! Let go of me.”
He grabbed her wrist and rolled over her, barely holding his weight off her chest, letting her feel his dominance as his gaze bored into hers. “I feel you, Georgie. In the very center of my being, you occupy a place of peace and warmth inside me. I swear I can feel you, and I’ve felt it every day since the moment I first saw you. Maybe even before then.”
“You’re losing your grip.” She only wished it was the one he had on her wrists.
“All of the things you’ve done have been to gain your grandmother’s love, your parent’s love. The world’s.”
“This is ridiculous. Of course they love me!” she spat. “We’re not the Lovaszes. We don’t earn love in my Family, it’s freely given!”
“But still you fear its loss. You still feel the weight of their disapproval, the burden of their worries that you will not be able to measure up.”
“Maybe that’s how you feel, Silviu, but—”
“Yes,” he agreed immediately. “Absolutely, so I know. I know what it’s like to live your life for someone else, by someone else’s rules and according to someone else’s whims.”
“You have a dramatic streak, and I’m not amused by it.” Panic rising, Georgie tugged against his hold again. “Let me go.”
“I will give you love,” he promised. “For the rest of our lives. Every day, every minute I will make certain you know how much I love you. Even when we disagree, even when you drive me to the edge of my patience, you will know I love you.”
He brushed his lips against hers in an achingly sweet gesture. Georgie went utterly still. Something deep in her soul rose up, reaching for him, his warmth and his promise, but she battled it back.
Because she suddenly knew he spoke truth. She could hear it, she could feel it, and his promise touched all the vulnerable scars she worked so hard to hide. Ripped them ap
art, forced them to bleed and made the last decade a mockery of what should have been. Only he could cause this level of chaos in her chest, in her head, in her body.
“You are my Match,” he breathed over her lips. “Perfect for me in every way. Born to be mine. You are the only thing in the world that has ever been mine, Georgie. What we did as children was not wrong.”
Warmth crept over her body, his heat and his magic combining with her desire for him and what he offered. It would be so easy to simply let him take what he wanted, so easy to surrender. It was so close to what she wanted, too.
But a Mother had to prove herself strong. She’d already failed one test and shown the world how weak she was where he was concerned. She’d proven how vulnerable she’d been to his acceptance of her and how much she needed him. She’d had to fight even harder to prove she’d learned her lesson and would let nothing, not even him, weaken her position in her Family or on the broader stage of witching politics.
She couldn’t afford to fall in love with him again. Her grandmother would strip her of everything she’d worked for.
So Georgie held still as he moved his lips over hers. She lay unresponsive as he tried to tempt her into kissing him back. If she moved even an inch, she knew she’d break. She’d hand over her heart at the risk of her Family and lose all that she’d worked for over the long, lonely years away from anyone who gave a damn about her.
Silviu pulled back until a breath of space grew into existence between their mouths and it took every ounce of willpower she had to meet his gaze. It was time for him to learn what the world knew—she never backed down from her responsibilities. Georgie never faltered.
Only that once.
Her voice was cold and unyielding. “It’s time for you to leave. Now, Silviu.”
Chapter Sixteen
Eliasz
“There you are! I’ve been searching for you all day.”
Eliasz looked up from his father’s desk to smile at Ileana, beautifully posed in the doorway. Her eyes sparkled, alight in a way that sent a warm shaft of…something through his chest. Her full lips were curved in a genuine smile that lit her face.
