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“Yes, Damian.”

His eyes burn into mine.

“Claim me.”

“Fuck, Belinda.”

“I know.”

“No.” His hand settles over my heart. “I don't think you do.”

Magic pulses beneath his palm.

Mine.

His.

Red and gold.

“Then show me, Mate.”

And lucky me, he does.

All night long.

Chapter 27

Damian

Halloween.

I used to hate this fucking holiday.

When you're a Jersey Devil, Halloween tends to bring out the idiots.

People want pictures. Summoning rituals. Proof of the supernatural. Drunk assholes wander into the woods hoping to find monsters, completely unaware that if they're unlucky enough to actually find one, they're probably going to piss themselves.

Today? Halloween might be my new favorite fucking day.

Because Bell's Books, Bed & Breakfast is officially open.

And my Little Witch is glowing. Literally and figuratively.

“Damian!”

I look up from the planter I'm watering beside the front walk.

Belinda stands on the porch with a clipboard tucked against one lush hip, directing Clarissa's siblings while simultaneously welcoming a newly arrived couple.

Her curls are pulled away from her face with some kind of orange-and-black scarf. She's wearing jeans, boots, and a dark green sweater that hugs every curve I spent last night reacquainting myself with.

My gaze drops. She catches me. Her eyebrow rises.

Behave.

The emotion slips through the bond so clearly that I almost laugh. I don't know if she deliberately sent it.

Doesn't fucking matter.