“Lucien,” I hissed.
He gave me an infuriating wink and sought out his siblings, who’d also decided to celebrate the grand opening with us. His parents had decided against it, but I’d met them both. His mother remained cold, but his father had shown interest in me and even kissed my cheek when we said goodbye. Hopefully one day Seraphina would welcome me, but honestly, I didn’t care. I had Lucien, and that was all that mattered.
I took a breath, smoothed my skirt, and turned back to the room.
The bar was glowing now, abuzz with energy, and filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional flare of magic as someone tried to impress a date. Somehow, the ghosts kept up with the pace. Even Bernard seemed to be having the time of his afterlife, hovering near his chandelier and theatrically tossing rose petals onto the patrons below.
I stepped back, just for a moment, and let myself take it all in.
This place was everything I’d dreamed of. Sophisticated but not sterile. Glamorous but not untouchable. It had bite. It had soul. It had survived the worst of what the world threw at it and come out stronger.
Just like me.
Which was why Thorne and I had decided to name the bar Love Bites. Thorne insisted it was both marketing genius and karmic poetry, and for once, I couldn’t argue with her. Not after everything.
I stood near the bar’s entrance, watching as Thorne raised a glass and shouted something obscene that made her brothers groan and a cluster of witches cackle. I watched as Lucien leaned against the far wall, his eyes never leaving me. And I watched as my bar—our bar—came alive around us.
This was my home.
It was exactly where I wanted to be. Where I was meant to be.
I let out a slow breath, savoring my happily-ever-after, until Thorne’s raised voice suddenly cut through the merriment.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” she shouted. “What the hell are you doing here?”
What? Who?
Every head snapped toward Thorne, mine included, only to find her glaring at someone in the crowd. The bar’s chatter dissolved into hushed whispers, and even the ghosts paused mid-celebration.
Thorne stalked across the room, one perfectly manicured finger outstretched like she was about to personally smite someone. I’d never seen her so angry before.
“You aren’t welcome here,” she snarled.
I blinked and glanced at Cassian, who looked oddly delighted. His eyebrows shot up, then he broke into a grin so wide it looked almost feral.
He didn’t even glance at me when I hissed, “What’s going on?”
Cassian merely nodded toward the same man Thorne currently approached.
I followed his gaze to find him watching a stranger who stood near the stage. The man stood taller than everyone around him by a few inches, one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his dark denim jeans, the other wrapped around a beer.
My mouth parted before I could stop it. I loved Lucien with everything I had and truly believed he was the most handsome man in the world. But this guy was easily a close second.
His artfully tousled dark hair framed a square-shaped face and sharp green eyes that tracked Thorne’s approach. His mouth lifted at the corners, not quite a smile, but close enough. Almost as though he was enjoying a private joke. He wore a charcoal Henley under a worn leather jacket that had certainly seen better days, and his jeans looked more fitted than tailored. His hiking boots, scuffed and creased, looked like they’d seen a mountain or two. All in all, he gave off more of an explorer feel than businessman.
“Hello, Theodora,” he drawled.
I swear, the entire bar took a collective breath. No one called Thorne that.
She didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she stopped in front of him, chin tilted high, and appraised him with narrowed eyes.
“What’s going on?” I whispered, inching closer to Cassian. “Who is that guy?”
Cassian didn’t take his eyes off the unfolding scene, not even as his twin handed her drink to the person next to her, and?—
—smacked the ever-loving shit out of him.
“Holy crap!” I gasped.
