The Magic Between Us By Tammy Falkner
Prologue
Cecelia leaned back against a tree and waited. He would arrive soon. He’d grown later and later each night for the past sennight, but he would come to meet her. She was certain of it.
His bulk settled beside her and the heat of his body chased away the chill of the cold, dark evening. “You came,” she said. She wrapped her arm through his and leaned into his shoulder.
“Yes,” he replied, but he didn’t look her in the eye. “I’m here.”
“Is something wrong?” Cecelia unwound her arm from inside his. He didn’t stop her.
He ran a frustrated hand through his unbound hair. He never wore a queue when he was in the land of the fae. Instead, he let his hair fall softly around his face and often tucked it behind his ears. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”
Cecelia stretched her legs out in front of her and waited for him to do what he normally did. She waited for him to lie back with his head upon her thigh and look up at her as though she was the most important thing in his world. But he didn’t. He just sat there beside her, his hands clenched in front of him.
She laid a hand upon his arm. “Talk to me, Marcus,” she urged. They’d been best friends for as long as she could remember. And he’d never been this reserved. He’d never avoided her gaze. He’d never shut her out.
“I received word from my father today.” His shoulders slumped as he turned to face her. “He wants me to succeed him.”
Cecelia laughed. That was impossible. “But doesn’t he know you have responsibilities here?” She laughed again. Because it was quite a laughable topic. The very thought of Marcus leaving the land of the fae was ridiculous. “You told him no, right?”
He reached out to touch the side of her face, his hand shaking as he let his thumb trace her lower lip. “I’m going.”
She pulled back, gripping his wrist to push his hand down. “What?”
“I’m going to their land. I don’t have a choice.”
Cecelia’s heart pounded in her chest like a team of runaway horses. “I don’t understand.”
“My parents want me to be there. There’s a lot I don’t know about being a viscount and my father’s holdings. I need to learn.”
“But what about his oldest son? Isn’t his name Allen?”
“I’m the oldest son. Allen is a year younger than I am.”
“But he’s been groomed to become a viscount.”
“But I’m the oldest son. We’re all going to be introduced to the ton as their children. They’re going to claim us.”
Marcus had always wanted a family. His grandmother and grandfather had raised them all, but he’d spoken often of how he wanted a mother and a father. Now he had them, apparently.
“So, you’ll go there and take care of your duties and then you can come back.” Hope bloomed within her, but only for a moment.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, wincing as he said, “I’ll be expected to marry outside the fae, to produce an heir and a spare, as they say.”
Cecelia gasped. “They said that?”
He shook his head and the viselike grip of fear on her heart eased a bit. “They didn’t say that. I said that. I need to dedicate myself to their way of life. I need to learn how their world works. I’ll need to marry a human.”
She bit back a gasp. “No, Marcus…” she began.
But he just shook his head and held his hands out as though in surrender.
“You’re giving up the life of the fae?” He wouldn’t do such a thing. It was too much a part of his being.
“Probably not entirely. Sophie and Claire still go on missions. But they’re not the eldest son. I’m simply afraid it’s going to take too much of my time. I have a lot to learn.” He reached for her face again, but she caught his hand and shoved it aside.
She looked into his brown eyes. He wasn’t avoiding her gaze right now. But he was done. She could tell. He’d made his decision. He hadn’t asked her to go with him. He hadn’t asked her to marry him. He hadn’t asked her to wait for him. He hadn’t asked for anything. And that was because he didn’t want anything. Not from her.
“I wish you the best, Marcus,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper to her own ears.
“Cece,” he breathed. He reached for her again. His head lowered toward hers.
“No,” she said. She turned her head at the last minute and his lips grazed her cheek.
“Cece,” he pleaded, his mouth still pressed to her cheek. Hot, moist breath rushed against her skin. “Please don’t be angry.”
She wasn’t angry. She was furious. And hurt. Damn it all, she’d dreamed of a life with him. But it wasn’t going to happen. And she refused to beg. “I’m happy for you,” she said. “I know you’ve wanted to connect with your parents for a long time. I hope life in their world is everything you’re hoping for.”
“Cece,” he breathed. His voice cracked. “Please don’t hate me.”
She couldn’t possibly hate him. Not when she loved him as much as she did. She got to her feet and walked away.
“You have to try to see things from my point of view, Cece,” he called to her retreating back.
“I highly doubt I could shove my head that far up my own arse, Marcus,” she called back.
He groaned and flung himself on the ground. She kept walking.