Silence met her confession, so she kept her mouth shut through the rest. The hurt that sparked in his eyes had her dropping hers, unable to bear hurting him anymore. She’d never felt guilty for a lot of things in her life, but being consumed by magic she’d acquired through deception was shameful.

  But this…this hurt deeper.

  Hands tugged her up, and surprise had her starting to apologize again. Then those hands were on her jaw, lifting her head so she could meet her brother’s gaze. For the first time in her life, she had a brief window into his soul, and she saw what the charm and the ruthless veneer hid: weariness, old and steady.

  Sorrow, above all else.

  “You didn’t bear that burden because I made sure you didn’t have to. I protect my loved ones and my family, and they’re my priority. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect our father and brother from that tragedy.”

  Stunned, she could only stare before she was violently shaking her head. His hands left her jaw, but hers snapped forward, taking them.

  “There was nothing you could have done. We were both too young.”

  “I would have traded my life for them, you know. Except it was too late.” The admission was raw to the bone, giving her another insight into his head. “Magic destroyed them. You have to understand that.”

  “No. Bad people destroyed them. They just happened to know a magic-user, and they took advantage.”

  “My point still stands.” Before she could protest it, he was squeezing her hands and already letting go, then stepping back. “And my rule still stands. Rules keep us protected, and I can’t just bypass them because we’re related. You committed a lot of sins.”

  Well, then. There was the decision.

  Leila was nothing if not dignified, so she nodded her head. “Yes. Normally I would ask you to bypass them, but this isn’t just me spending all your money for my clothes—which I still need to do, by the way. I’ve barely touched the extra cash you’ve given me.”

  “Hmm.”

  “And don’t think you can hide what St. Charles is doing from me. I know he’s collecting some things for you. What it’s for, I have yet to figure out. But I do hope it’s not for another one of your ridiculous, dangerous schemes. I’ve already provided that danger.”

  He didn’t smile at the jest. He didn’t speak for a long time, either, making her nervous. But Leila refrained from speaking as well, understanding it was his turn this time. Seconds passed, with Edmund returning to his chair and her returning to the couch. He looked fixedly into space.

  Slowly, a resolve seemed to come over him, firm more than anything else.

  “You know magic isn’t allowed here. But beyond that, betrayal isn’t allowed here, which you’ve done—and by extension, Ovie has done. I have to punish you both in the only way I can.”

  “Alright.”

  “First choice would’ve been death, and second would’ve been eternal imprisonment, which I wouldn’t wish on either of you.”

  The words had her paling, but she still nodded her head. “Obviously, you are forgoing those.”

  “It leaves us with a third, and the final decision.”

  “Yes?”

  Just when she thought the first two were bad, she was hit with the third one.

  The worst one.

  “Exile for an indefinite amount of time. No contact with anyone in the clan. Sealed from all the pockets. I’m sorry, Leila, but I have to do this.”

  * * *

  She’d tried to smile, tried to put on a brave face and accept the punishment as graciously as she could. Hell, she’d wanted to scream that it was unfair, considering she did save Malcolm.

  But Edmund was right. She kept dangerous secrets from him, and they all blew up in her face. In the end, he had to call everyone away from their home to clean up her mess, leaving it potentially vulnerable.

  And she’d killed. She’d killed without remorse.

  Leila had to pay the price, somehow.

  Still, this wasn’t what she’d envisioned, and it hit her like a punch in the stomach and something more. She got out of there as soon as she could, kept walking away from her brother’s office until she was in the mansion’s opposite wing. Even then, she didn’t stop, needing to move—needing to do something to keep the panic at bay, to keep reality from crashing down on her.

  But reality wasn’t reality if it didn’t crash somehow, and hers came down just as she was about to head to the backfield. Panic that she’d get seen had her backing up one step, then another, until she was turning around and running away in the opposite direction.

  Panic had her running straight into the kitchen, where she forgot someone was often in at this time of the day. As it was, that person heard her running and came out to peek—

  A clanging sound, and then bowls were flying everywhere, the sound of shattering glass a loud cacophony on the floor.

  Celine gaped at them in horror, then at her. Leila did the same, trying to keep up her false bravado.

  “Don’t worry about those. I’ll tell Edmund I did it.”

  “But I paid for those,” was Celine’s protest, which had Leila inwardly groaning.

  “Then I’ll pay for them. Every last piece in whatever your collection is. I have to work, anyway, and…” She couldn’t give the money to Celine, because Edmund wanted all contact cut off. The panic burst. “Shit. Shit. I’ll find a way. I swear I’ll find a way, even if I can’t contact you anymore.”

  Celine looked at her like she was a very bizarre creature. “Why can’t you contact me anymore? Is this some sort of intimidation? Or is this…?” Somehow, even though Leila was pretty sure she gave nothing away, Celine’s face paled as realization dawned. “Your brother. Malcolm.”

  Of course Hunter would’ve told her.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you kicked out?”

  “Exiled,” Leila clarified, though there wasn’t much of a difference.

  “For good?” Celine asked in horror.

  “You’d want that, wouldn’t you?” Leila drawled, then immediately regretted it when the other woman’s shoulders tensed.

  “Actually, no. You may have started out trying to get rid of me, but you saved my life in the end.”

  It rang with truth, and now Leila just felt like shit. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are.” Celine studied her.

  “I have to go. Keep those bowls on my tab for if or when I return.”

  Because she was going to return, and she was determined to do so. Sure, maybe that was self-preservation kicking in, or maybe it was a defense mechanism. Either way, it worked, allowing her to escape Celine’s scrutiny with her head held high and looking like she was just off to a leisurely stroll.

  She got until the nearest supply closet, where she entered without hesitation. A click indicated the door closing, which was all Leila needed before she finally couldn’t take it anymore.

  The tears came, filled with fury with herself—that she was being weak for even crying, and that there was no room for tears in this scenario. Then the fury dissipated as more tears fell, a stream that was no longer easily fixed by a piece of handkerchief. She succumbed to that misery, remaining in her spot for what felt like an eternity.

  That eternity was shattered when hands were on her shoulders, nearly making her rear back. But she immediately recognized those hands, and it didn’t take her long to figure out that Ovie had been deliberately quiet coming in there. She hadn’t even heard a thing.

  Leila did her best to wipe the rest of the tears away, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead, Ovie’s hands were there first, already rubbing them dry as he looked her in the eye.

  “I heard from Edmund.” Then, “We’ll be alright.”

  They were simple words, and they weren’t supposed to comfort but state the truth. Oddly enough, it was that truth ringing in his voice that comforted her. Giving in to it, she buried her face on his chest, sniffling—then, groaning for sniffling.

  “We’ll be alright,” she repeated, soft at first. Gaining momentum. “It’ll be fine. We’ll get through this.”

  “We will.”

  “We’ll be alright.”

  She repeated it in her head, swallowing it like it was water: a necessity. She took in his scent, familiar and warm, and let it wrap around her like it always did.

  Leila closed her eyes and believed it.

  Epilogue

  “You’re up in ten minutes, Ov.”

  The words had Ovie nodding, then looking around subtly at the crowd that had gathered down below. It was a pretty sizeable crowd for a Thursday night—and one that sent a surge of excitement into his bones. He hadn’t fought in a week due to some very pressing matters, and it now called to him like the full moon did.

  “Hey, Galaxy. There’s a couple of chicks staring at you from the bleachers.”

  He looked up to where Junior was referring to, where a group of young women were staring at him quite intensely. They giggled now and then, gazes moving to roam his body from head to foot. One smirked, winking in his direction. Another gave him come-hither eyes, which didn’t fit her youthful face at all.

  “I guess so,” Ovie murmured.

  “Not just staring, too. I bet they’re placing bets on who gets to sleep with you after your fight.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not going to happen, so they might as well keep the money.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve got some things to do.”

  “Things more important than banging hot chicks who are eagerly throwing themselves at you?” Junior asked incredulously.

  “Yep.”

  “Must be worth it,” the younger man muttered, shaking his head in what seemed like disbelief. “Whatever those things you’re doing are.”

  Instinctively, Ovie’s head turned to the other side, where he immediately spotted a figure among the throng. The black, non-signature brand coat she wore made her blend in with the crowd, but that glossy black, braided hair was like a beacon that called to him. She was talking to someone beside her: a middle-aged man who often came to watch fights at the end of his every successful business deal—something about it being good luck—and often ended up sitting with her. Whatever she was saying, it sent the man grinning and nodding to his wife, who was sitting on his other side. The wife gave him an indulgent smile.

  As if she sensed the scrutiny, Leila looked up and instantly locked gazes with his. The sparkle in her dark eyes turned to awareness, right before she bit her bottom lip and looked down.

  “It’s definitely worth it,” he found himself murmuring, even though Junior was no longer paying attention.

  The break ended all too soon, and the announcer called for Galaxy Ov to step into the ring and face a newbie who had been hankering for a fight. They eyed each other in assessment, with the latter grinning in anticipation right after.

  Ovie got rid of all thoughts as he threw his focus into the first round.

  * * *

  He didn’t find Leila with the couple anymore when the fight ended, but the victory coursing through his veins had him stepping out of the underground space and slipping up to the club as fast as he could. Junior would take care of his earnings, as the man often did.

  Ovie needed to do something else.

  He got out of the club, then kept going. He walked the streets of New York with a particular destination in mind, careful to keep his head down. Keeping his head down for the past few months had been no easy feat, particularly with the way his underground reputation was growing. But he’d somehow managed, staying under the radar and away from supernatural eyes.

  For now.

  When the Manhattan warehouse came into view, he went for it and slipped in the second opening—the second space they’d rented after leaving the pocket behind. Noise came from one particular area, where he peeked in and found Leila preparing food behind the makeshift kitchen partition.

  The sight of her with her bare feet on the floor sent a tightening into his stomach, but he stayed where he was. The oven dinged, and she bent down to remove a pan and set it on the kitchen counter. That action had her facing him and nearly jumping back, after which she narrowed her gaze and took off her earphones.

  “What are you listening to?” he asked casually, finally striding over to peer at the pan. He saw brown clumps with nuts on top, most of which had been chopped aggressively. “And what are you making?”

  “Yiruma, and I made a disaster because I was enjoying the music too much,” she grumbled. “Now I have to start all over again and—hey, that’s not even any good!”

  Ovie ignored her and grabbed a bite, which burned his tongue. But after the burn was a sweet, chocolatey taste, one that slid down his throat and made him nearly groan out loud.

  “I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he countered, risking another hot piece. “Both are good: Yiruma and this. Here, try it.”

  “I’m not going to try something clumpy and…hmm.” She closed her eyes, reluctantly accepting the piece he offered to her. Then her eyes opened and widened, pleasure darkening that gaze further and making his heart skip a beat. “Fine, so maybe I just need to adjust the recipe a bit and…you’re sweaty.”

  The way she said it…there was a catch in the throat, one that had his insides flaring. He continued striding closer, amusement flitting in when she tried to back away. Her gaze alternated between him and the brownie piece he had in hand, settling on him when her back finally hit the wall.

  “I am,” he agreed.

  “Did you win?”

  “Yes.”

  “Congratulations,” she whispered.

  “Thank you.”

  He was inches close, and he didn’t miss the hitch in her breath when his mouth whispered against her ear. He also didn’t miss the way her body seemed to soften, despite the stubbornness of her expression. That stubbornness contributed to Leila’s uncertainty with him—whether his initial mating with her was for controlling the magic or for something more personal. Because of it, she protected her heart.

  And he was working on softening that, too, as the months passed by.

  Unable to stand the tension anymore, Ovie pressed his mouth to hers, cruising his lips against her closed ones until they softened…then, opened up for him. The little game they always played right after his fight, a push and pull, became lost as they lost themselves in the kiss. Every press filled his body with tension, the adrenaline rushing higher until he was vibrating with it. Every sound from her throat had him nearly punching the wall behind her in his quest to take it easy with her—to be patient, like he was with all things.

  To understand that she needed time to know his feelings for her to believe it.

  Usually, kisses after an underground fight ended with either of two things: them falling into bed and getting rid of the tension via fast, sweaty sex, or her backing away and teasing him to take a shower. He braced himself for it when her hands fisted on his hair, as if to pull him back.

  Instead, she deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue inside his mouth. But she didn’t push against him, as if where they were was where she wanted to stay. He lost himself in it all over again, savoring how she took it slow and reveling in the hunger coming out of her.

  It was Ovie who pressed himself against her, throwing the caution of patience into the wind. He growled in his throat when she nipped his bottom lip, tasting him harder.

  Her next words stopped him in his tracks.

  “I could live like this, you know.”

  Her breath warmed his shoulder, and she seemed to be content like this, too.

  “You could?”

  Leila nodded. “Yes. I thought I couldn’t at first, because my life was tied to the pocket. Born and raised there. It still is, and being cut off felt like getting my hands cut off. But you made it easier. You fighting underground, me working on my potions without magic…”

  “We’re managing.”

  “No, Ovie, that’s not right.” She looked up seriously. “We’re more than managing. We’re kicking ass.” The seriousness disappeared, replaced by a smile. It was so bright that he could only take it in, speechless and mesmerized. “We’re thriving. We’re happy. Thank you.”

  “For winning?”

  At that, her smile turned into a grin. “No, dummy. Thank you for staying with me. Thank you for being patient during my tantrums and diva moments—which I’m highly aware of, and I swear I’m working on becoming a humbler person. It’s a hardship, you know.”

  His mouth quirked. “Hmm.”

  “Thank you for not being an ass when I botch domestic and human things, and thank you for being the most enthusiastic person at every small success I make, whether it’s in potions or…well, domestic and human things.” There was a pause as she slid her hand down his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. “Thank you for saving my life, and for mating with me.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you for loving me. I didn’t believe it at first, and I’m going to be honest with you about one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m scared shitless of it.” Dark eyes met his, vulnerable and raw with emotion. “I’ve been loved by family because they have to, but I’ve never been loved by a person because they want to. I never thought I could reciprocate it, either…and as it turns out, I can.”

  Shock reverberated through him at the sudden confession, and his hands went slack. But hers were there, keeping him in place.

  “Leila…”

  “I love you, Oliver Fitzgerald. I thought I would settle for no commitments and no responsibilities, a panther and woman roaming the high life but never fully satisfied—or worse, settle for some faceless billionaire who’d sweep me off my feet and benefit the clan, but would never truly make me happy. Instead, I fell for someone better…actually, no. I fell for the best man I’ve ever met. And I’m so, so happy.” There was a very mischievous wink. “Don’t tell my brother I said that, by the way.”

 

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