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“Looks like today’s the last day we’ll get to play in the garden. Are you up for a few hours of work in the chilly morning air?”
Jenks excitedly rubbed himself around my ankles, providing his response.
“Good. I’m looking forward to it too.”
Instinctively, I knew while my mind could float through the dreamscape every night, my body still needed to stay grounded in this world. The house, garden, and the life Mama and I created here meant so much to me. It was branded on my very soul. I learned about my magic here, how to hone my skills to provide for anything I’d need in life… except when it came to love.
It was the one spell we weren’t allowed to cast. Love came from a source all its own, and no number of spells or manipulation could alter its true course. I wondered now if my ability to see and connect with the Weaver came from a completely different type of magic beyond either of our control. Perhaps we were meant for each other.
I turned away from the stove and lost myself in a dream of my own.
Roarke’s hands roamed across my skin, eliciting goose bumps wherever he touched. Rolling my neck to the side, I could feel his lips press warmly against my throat, licking upward to my jawline and finishing at my lips with a passionate kiss. It was as if the goddess was showing me these things were finally possible—that I was destined for love with the man of my dreams.
Bacon sizzled in the pan, pulling my attention back to the real world. Smoke filled the air, and the stench of burned meat wrinkled my nose.
“Sorry, Jenks.” I apologized and snatched the pan from the burner, noting the hiss and growl coming from my familiar. “Don’t worry, baby. I can make another batch.”
His iridescent amber eyes lingered on the smoke, his growl turning vicious as he bared his teeth.
