The couple at the next booth argues in vicious whispers, the man stabbing his fork into his risotto like he wishes it were someone’s face.
I envy the man with the fork. He has both an audience for his angerandan outlet.
“Leave,”Bad Wolf growls.“Take the wine and go home with what’s left of your dignity. Log into a chat room, vent. Your friends will make you feel better.”
Dignity? I sent a voice message that was essentially two minutes of emotional hemorrhaging. I talked about curses and loneliness andneedingthem like the fucking simp I’ve accused Kai of being on more than one occasion.
But Bad Wolf has a point. I haven’t logged on to one of my many chat rooms in a while. I used to stay up to date with my friends around the country, but it’s been months since I’ve shared anything with them.
Apex predators monitor their competition. Else we’d all be going after the same prey…and why should we, when there’s more than enough to go around?
The door opens.
My heart leaps—then crashes—when an elderly couple shuffles in, both of them wrapped in wool coats and matching plaid scarves.
Christ.
I force myself to take a sip of wine. It might as well be vinegar.
I’m giving them two more minutes, then I’m getting the fuck out of here.
Except…I know I’ll wait all night if I have to. I’ll wait until they turn off the lights and ask me to go, and even then I’ll probably linger on the sidewalk like a stray dog hoping for scraps.
This is what Haven and Kai have reduced me to.
No…this is whatI’vereducedmyselfto.
They didn’t do this.
I did.
Every manipulation, every threat, every time I pushed when I should have pulled back. I built this cage bar by bar, and now I’m trapped inside it, and the only people who have the key are?—
The door opens again. I almost don’t even look, because I couldn’t stand if it’s not them.
But it is.
Haven and Kai, holding hands, framed in the doorway for a moment as they scan the room.
For me.
Forme.
“Breathe,”Good Wolf whispers.“Just breathe.”
I can’t.
I genuinely cannot breathe. They actually came, and they’re here, and they’re both so fucking beautiful, and I don’t fucking deserve this.
I don’t deservethem.
But they’re here anyway, and if that’s not proof that I might just be able to break The Witch’s curse after all, I don’t know what is.
Haven spots me first. She tugs Kai’s hand, nodding toward my table.
I rush to my feet, nearly knocking over my wineglass, and stand there like an idiot as they cross the restaurant.
Kai is wearing a navy button-up shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, tucked into tailored charcoal slacks. His hair is pulled back into a small knot at the nape of his neck, exposing the sharp line of his jaw. He looks older. More serious.
