The man pulled off his apron and balled it up, tucking it under his arm as he scanned the street. His pale gray eyes seemed to linger on Luc, even though there was no way the human could see through his invisibility.
Luc froze, momentarily caught in the man’s magnetic stare. His eyes were electric, bright, and haunting. The hairs on the back of Luc’s neck stood, and a shiver wound through him.
Long, dark lashes fluttered as the man blinked and looked down. He stopped short at the sight of the smashed mug, a frown cutting his delicate face. He kneeled and grabbed one of the larger pieces, a crease deepening in his brow. Muttering something Luc couldn’t make out, he stood and retreated inside.
The man’s departure was like a bereavement, leaving Luc hollow as the urge to follow pulled on his chest.
Before Luc could dwell on the feeling, the man returned with a dustpan and brush, his apron nowhere in sight. Luc’s tense muscles eased. With a few deft strokes, the mug was swept away and the man disappeared again, scowling like the shattered mug was a personal offense.
Luc’s insides twisted. He was no stranger to regret. It clawed at him so frequently, he was permanently ripped apart. Breaking the mug was nothing compared to everything he’d destroyed in his long life. It shouldn’t cut so deep. But it did.
The man strode back out of the café and turned down the street without stopping. Luc crossed the road and followed as if this were the reason he’d been waiting all along.
He pushed his regret over the broken mug away. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t. Not like this did.
As Luc followed, he relaxed, his bitterness fading. Tailing the man soothed him.
Luc’s pulse sped up, his momentary comfort vanishing. Was this man the reason he kept returning to Seaside Coffee?
No. He couldn’t be.
Luc hadn’t noticed him working at the café before. How could he be waiting for someone he hadn’t known existed?
But following the man was even more pleasing than holding the mug. He was captivating even though he wasn’t doing anything interesting. The mug’s appeal paled in comparison. Of course it did, but the two felt connected, which shouldn’t be possible when neither possessed magic.
It made no sense.
Yet Luc’s magic responded as if merely gazing at the man had activated something deep within him. Power hummed, its frequency increasing the longer Luc followed. Luc hated not seeing the man’s face. He needed those sharp eyes on him.
Not that there wasn’t plenty to appreciate about his current view. Luc’s quarry walked with confidence, his jeans flatteringly cupping his ass, but the man’s beauty wasn’t the reason Luc’s fire sparked. He’d seen countless beautiful men over the millennia. This man was something more. Something…
Bitterness eclipsed the sweet tug on Luc’s heart. Something more like what? Luc’s mate? Ha.
Luc’s brothers may have found their fated mates, but him? The Devil didn’t deserve happiness. He was the villain. It didn’t matter that he chose to take on that role. That it had been a necessary front. The only way forward. He’d worn the title proudly, and after so long, he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t genuinely bad.
The man paused and looked over his shoulder, light brown cheeks flushed with the late-afternoon heat. Luc halted, his breath catching as the man scanned the area, then continued on.
Luc followed in his wake like he was under a spell. He’d never been captivated by a random stranger. Ever. It had been more than a thousand years since his emotions had stirred for anyone at all, other than in anger.
Chest tightening, Luc’s stride quickened.
He might not deserve to find his fated mate after leading the way to destroying the balance of magic and mortality in the universe, but Luc wasn’t leaving Shearwater Landing until he figured out if, against all odds, he’d found his mate anyway.
2
DEX
Dex reached his building and paused at the entrance, unable to go inside. He hadn’t been looking forward to leaving work, then he’d found one of his mugs shattered on the sidewalk, and his low mood had gone subterranean.
The red mug hadn’t been on the shelf that morning, meaning someone must have bought it on Dex’s day off yesterday. How had it ended up smashed in the doorway? Had the person brought it back? Seeing something he’d made broken and discarded was the last thing Dex needed.
He turned away from his building, bypassing the bakery on the ground floor, and continued down the street. His condo was not the place to be when he was down.
Pulling out his phone, Dex considered his options as he walked. His best friend, Ollie, was still at work. Fuck, all of his friends were. Starting and finishing early suited Dex, but not many jobs began at six a.m.
Dex turned down the street that ran along the river. His friend, Violet, worked at a tiny hole-in-the-wall bar close by and should be starting her regular shift about now.
When he arrived, a few people sat at the tables outside Dorthy’s,drinking and vaping. Dex pushed the door open and searched the space as he entered. An older man was reading at a table by the window, and a couple who seemed like tourists sat at the bar.
