Amazing to think this used to be a thriving fishing village,he thought as he opened the trunk of the car, retrieving the wheeled suitcase he’d brought with him. It was small, but Hardwicke was used to packing light – he didn’t need much in the way of creature comforts.
I’d better go and get set up then, I suppo—
That was as far as Hardwicke got in his thoughts.
As he turned, looking first one way up the street and then the other, he caught sight of a woman emerging from what looked like a shop a little farther down the way. Her hair was long, and, caught in the strong winds, it obscured her face with his dark waves – dark waves that had a few definite streaks of gray in them. She was taller than average, her figure mostly disguised by the thick coat she was wearing as protection against the wind – but still, as Hardwicke stared at her, he felt a sudden recognition surging up within him.
He didn’t need to see her face.
He didn’t need to see more details of her figure.
But it had been twenty years, and of course she wouldn’t look the same as she had back then – and neither did he, for that matter.
None of that mattered, however. She could have changed entirely – cut her hair short, or shaved it off completely. Gotten plastic surgery to change the shape of her nose. Somehow grown taller or gotten shorter.
None of that would have mattered, because Hardwicke would have known her soul anywhere.
It’s her. I know it. It’s her.
At that moment, logic, reason, not evensanitymeant anything. It meant absolutely nothing that this was possibly one of the most unlikely things ever to have happened to him. Nothing mattered, except the fact that Hardwickeknewhe was looking at his mate.
The mate he’d lost twenty years ago, when she’d told him they could never be together – that it was impossible, and she hadn’t given him a reason why.
Celeste.
He hadn’t even told her then that shewashis mate – he’d been courting her, trying to show her that he could be a man she wanted to be with, without the pressure of revealing the mated bond, or even the fact that he was a shifter at all. She was human, after all, and she’d had no idea that things such as shifters could exist, let alone pegasi, unicorns, dragons, griffins or hippogriffs. He’d wanted to do things right and take things slow.
But then she told me it was impossible. That she was leaving, and she couldn’t tell me where. She only said it would be best for me to forget about her…
But of course, he couldn’t. It wasn’t possible for a shifter to forget about their mate. Once they’d touched, it was as if that touch was forever branded on their soul.
That was how Hardwicke had felt, anyway. In all the years since then, he’d never forgotten about Celeste. He’d never stopped thinking about her, and wondering where she’d gone, and why she couldn’t tell him where she had to go.
And of course, he hadn’t wanted to reveal then what they were to each other. It would have been putting her in an impossible situation. She needed to leave, and Hardwicke had sensed she was telling the truth. Telling her that she was his mate and revealing the truth about shifters just to try to force her to stay by his side would have been nothing but selfishness, and Hardwicke had assumed that for a human, it was possible that the mated bond simply wasn’t as strong as it was for shifters.
And so, he’d let her go.
But here she is – I’m looking at her now. It seems impossible, but I know it’s the truth…
Hardwicke knew he’d been standing in the drive of the cottage for almost a minute now, stock still, simply staring as Celeste made her way down the street, apparently entranced by the window displays.
It’s Christmas, of course,Hardwicke realized with a jolt. Of course the shops were decked out in decorations, or at least as many as the howling wind would allow. Celeste seemed enthralled by them – when the wind swept her hair back and Hardwicke finally caught a glimpse of her face, gasping as he did so, her smile was just as beautiful, wide and unguarded as he remembered it.
But what’s she doinghere?And should I show myself to her? Should I try to talk to her?
His pegasus rose up within him, imperious as always.
Of course you must,it insisted.She is our mate. Even if we never told her – for some reason I will never understand – she will still know us. She will feel our soul calling out to hers.
Hardwicke wanted to believe it. He wanted to think enough time had passed that Celeste would remember him fondly now as an old flame, and that if he spoke to her it wouldn’t be an awkward and unwelcome intrusion.
But how can I speak to her now… how could I ever hold myself back from telling her the truth after all these years…
Hardwicke had almost made up his mind to quickly turn and go inside the cottage in order to sort out the turmoil in his head and heart in privacy… well,relativeprivacy, since his pegasus was stomping and screeching at the mere idea of running away –Like a coward!it bellowed – when the decision was taken out of his hands.
Maybe the pegasus had been right, and Celeste reallyhadfelt something stirring in her soul just from his presence. Or maybe she’d simply realized there was a guy standing a little farther up the street, staring at her with his mouth hanging open. But whatever the case, in the next moment, Celeste lifted her head from where she’d been peering into a shop window, looked over, and saw him.
Hardwicke froze as Celeste’s face first went blank, and then her mouth fell open with surprise – or shock. Either way, the disbelief was clear on her face, her eyes widening a moment later, and she shoved the dark bangs that fell over her face out of her eyes, as if trying to make sure they weren’t deceiving her.
