Chapter Twenty-Two

STORM WAS SHAKING by the time the scene faded from his dad breaking apart in front of him to what must have been a year later, standing at the side of a heavily decorated floral arbour. Cesa stood beside him, watching his future bride walk down the aisle.

Cesa’s gaze was firmly fixed on what must have been Rosa Bellamy and his dad stared straight ahead, like the dedicated, serious best man he was. They were so desperately trying not to stare at each other that Storm doubted they could see anything going on around them. Cesa flinched when Rosa reached him and held her hand out. He faked a smile and turned with her to face the priest, but Storm didn’t miss the dart of his gaze toward Asher or the evident tension between them as the ceremony continued.

He watched the events happen like a movie, something detached from real life. All Storm could think was why? How could they stand side by side and not fight to be with each other? How could Cesa say his vows to someone else? How could his dad not do something to stop this?

Storm knew how he would feel if Rowan was marrying someone else. He wasn’t sure what he felt for Rowan yet, but he didn’t want to be with anyone else. He wanted to give their relationship time to evolve, and he couldn’t bear the thought of letting Rowan go without knowing what they might have together.

Storm knew what was here, what existed between Asher and Cesa, so why were they accepting this? Why didn’t they kick and scream for every second they were forced apart since it hurt so damned much they couldn’t breathe? Their pain resonated, obvious to anyone who looked at them, an unavoidable truth everyone conveniently ignored.

This night under the stars was when their lives fell apart, when their world shattered, and they both had to pretend they weren’t being ripped apart by grief.

Scenes flitted by, showing him brief moments of the day and night: Asher and Cesa talking but determinedly not touching each other at the wedding reception; Cesa having his first dance with his new wife while Asher stood on the opposite side of the dance floor; heated glances passing between them, despite their attempts to resist.

Asher took the hand of a girl and lead her onto the dance floor, where they talked quietly. Though Storm didn’t hear a word of their conversation, his dad had the best poker face he’d ever seen, laughing, mingling and acting like everything was fine. Neither Cesa nor Asher showed any sign of their inner pain; when their gazes collided across the room or when they snuck a glance at each other, the truth flaring in their eyes.

Storm’s breath hitched as a vision in pale blue stepped closer to his dad.

“If you’d like to walk me through the garden, you can take a minute to compose yourself,” she said, her voice soft and beautiful.

The sound made him ache, having never seen his mum this young. Veronica was as beautiful in this moment as she’d been when he last saw her, crossing into the abyss. Tonight, she was an unknown pretty face to Asher, wearing a summer dress, her long, dark hair hanging over one shoulder, and clutching a purse in both hands.

When Asher looked at her there was no spark, no instant connection, just a man startled by her attention and a flash of fear that he’d been caught. He was smart enough to nod, offer his arm and escort Veronica Amari out the open French doors of the Copry manor into the garden.

“You think I need to compose myself?” he asked as they walked away from the house through the path lined with roses.

Veronica tipped her head to gaze at Asher with a fond smile. “I know love when I see it. You could say it’s my gift,” she claimed, brushing her fingertips across the petals of nearby dying sunflowers. The moment she made contact, they flourished into full bloom, shining in the night light.

Asher smiled knowingly. “I know who you are and what you can do. I’m just surprised,” he confessed, politely ignoring her magical introduction. “I won’t deny that I love him or that he loves me. But he believes we’re destined to never find peace together, and I can’t change his mind. Why torture myself with loneliness when I can keep his friendship?”

Storm wanted to shake him, and apparently his mum agreed.

Veronica shook her head and huffed in disapproval. “Men. You talk like you can’t change fate, that the Fates can’t be beaten. I come from a long line of necromancers like you do. You should know better,” she said, watching him with frighteningly intelligent eyes.

Storm smiled at her frank opinion, stunned when she glanced up. If he hadn’t known he didn’t exist to them, he’d have thought she’d seen him.

Asher hesitated, but emotion shook his voice, exposing the sadness he’d been hiding. “I know better. He can’t be convinced, and I refuse to fight for a man who won’t fight for me. If he can give up on us, then our love can’t be real and perhaps never was.”

Storm followed as they walked through the garden, debating love, the Fates, and magic for what felt like hours. No one came searching for them, and though they walked slowly, they didn’t have to repeat their circle of the rose garden. The moment they reached the doors to the wedding reception, they didn’t hesitate to go inside where they danced together, both seeming lighter and happier for their brief interlude in the garden.

Storm had thought watching his dad avoid Cesa while he married someone else had been painful. Watching his parents slow dance to a romantic song, and knowing they didn’t have much time left, was worse. They would start dating in eight months, marry six months later, and have only seven short years together: one year with each other, taking over the Tera estate and building a married life, then welcoming him into the world.

It wasn’t long enough, and their lives would end in blood and betrayal.

*

THE MOMENTS BETWEEN Asher and Cesa flitted by fast after the wedding. Precious hours of being friends and nothing more, days spent discussing coven business now they ruled their respective covens. They spent evenings at home with their separate families, casting longing gazes out of windows, and endured silences when they thought of each other but said nothing.

Storm could have cried for them but felt too empty for tears. He had to watch his mum come into her own, taking charge of the estate as she and Asher fell in love, married, and welcomed him into the world. They truly did love each other by the time they married. Ever the smart witch, Veronica Amari knew and accepted that she could never be first in Asher’s heart, and she didn’t ask to be.

Over time, Storm heard snippets of conversations, saw flashes of his parents lives together, but the book was bound to Asher and Cesa’s love. The memories couldn’t stop to show him what he most wanted to see, only pausing when their love flared to life and was given the chance to fly free or when their emotions reached a crescendo.

“Why did you marry her if you love someone else?” a male voice asked, one Storm didn’t recognise.

The sound came before the location, gradually forming his dad’s study in the mansion, placing Storm at the door across from his dad, who paced the window. The unfamiliar man was an older version of his dad, minus the tattoos, and Storm could only assume this was his grandfather, sitting in the armchair in front of the desk.

“You’re simplifying the situation.” Asher gazed at the darkness of night beyond the window. “Ronnie and I wouldn’t have married if we didn’t care about each other. She isn’t a second-rate prize,” he objected with enough heat to make his point.

His grandfather stiffened and gritted his teeth. “She says you’re in love with Cesa Copry,” he said, his tone practically screaming his disapproval and disgust.

As his dad hung his head and bit his lower lip, clearly hoping to contain his anger or sadness at the accusation of the words, the door creaked open. Storm’s gaze followed the sound to see Veronica standing in the open doorway, dressed in dark trousers and a white shirt hanging loose over a tank top. She was covered in paint splashes that reminded Storm of her talent for the creative arts; she’d made beautiful pieces of art, infusing her magic into the paint that made the manor a home.

“I’m sorry, Asher. I didn’t realise your father didn’t know,” she apologised, sounding genuinely sorry for the oversight.

“Don’t worry, love. Are you all right?” Asher asked with no sign of anger but a warm affection that made Veronica blush.

“You have a visitor in the library,” she replied, glancing at Asher’s father awkwardly in a sign that he wouldn’t want her to say who the visitor was. “You should finish here first.”

The look that crossed Asher’s dark eyes was enough to tell Storm what was happening. Cesa was waiting to see him, and Veronica was strong enough to invite him into her home, fully aware of his past with her husband. Yet she didn’t seem inclined to do anything to discourage their friendship.

“Thank you.” Asher straightened and bobbed his head, watching as Veronica left the room and shut the door. A last glare in the direction of Asher’s father let Storm know exactly what she thought about his judgements. “Father, I will say this once.” He turned, his posture full of authority that Storm could never imagine using against his dad. “Cesa and I began a relationship months before my ascension, and we were happy. On the night I ascended, he told me his parents had arranged his marriage to Rosa. He didn’t see any way out since we’re destined to be separated by the Fates,” he explained, managing to remain strong and determined without showing a trace of the pain that night had caused.

“I suppose that’s true,” his grandfather muttered without compassion.

“I wish he’d given me a choice. Cesa isn’t interested in women. He doesn’t feel about women the way you or I can.”

“You?”

Storm rolled his eyes at how obtuse his grandfather was. Thank the gods both of his grandparents had been out of the country when his parents died, or Storm would have been raised by them. Gods help him, but he might have been kicked out for being gay. The thought made him shiver, though he refused to thank Gladys for saving him when she was the reason he wasn’t raised in a loving, accepting household by his parents in the first place.

“I’m bisexual, Father,” his dad said, confirming Storm’s suspicion. “Which is why I wish he’d let me marry for duty. If one of us had to, I could find a way, but Cesa… He’s always obeyed his parents. Even in this he couldn’t stand to ask for my help, to fight for what he wanted.”

Silence reigned until the room was closing in around them, oppressive, like a sharp sting in the air. Storm wanted to march across to his grandfather, to shake him until he recognised the obvious pain his son was in and attempt to do something to console or comfort him…to care!

“Is that why he’s been distant during coven gatherings? Why he’s separated his family from ours?”

Asher sagged against the window frame. “No. I think he can’t bear being close to me,” he confessed, swiping the heel of his hand across his eye. Though he was crying, he still managed to speak without breaking down or leaking magic as he had in the forest. “It hurts too much.”

Storm wanted to hold him and lie, to tell him everything would be okay, just to heal that pain. Asher would never believe him even if Storm could tell him his fate; that he couldn’t be with the man he loved, that his wife tolerated their love in a way Storm didn’t understand but which made her more wonderful than he’d ever imagined.

“For you too?”

“Yes. I love Ronnie, but I’ll always love Cesa more. She accepts that truth, because she knows the sting of betrayal.”

“What do you mean?” His grandfather’s panic was written all over his face: the fear that Veronica Tera might be a lesbian and acting as Asher’s beard. His reputation and legacy seemed to be all that mattered; how he looked to the other covens and how Asher’s behaviour reflected on the family name. Storm hated him.

“Ronnie was in love with a boy from her coven,” Asher revealed with an ease that said this was something he’d known and accepted for a long time. “But he was promised to a girl from another coven. Betrothed. Just as Rosa and Cesa were matched according to their gifts, this boy was matched at birth to a girl his parents wanted an alliance with. Neither had any say,” he continued, gaze drifting toward the study door, no doubt thinking about the man who waited on the other side. “He didn’t fight the union when he found out, and Veronica gave up on her dreams of their happily ever after. He’s the reason she knew what I was going through when Cesa got married. She was separated from someone she loved, willing to fight for them but he wasn’t, just as I would have fought for Cesa, but he wasn’t prepared to fight for me.”

Asher drew his emotions in tight and faced his father. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a visitor.” He left the room without waiting for another comment about his life.

Storm could only imagine the difficulty of maintaining the illusion of strength and composure until the door shut between them. He stayed in the study, conflicted. He wanted to go after his dad, waiting for the spell to move him like a chess piece on the board, but nothing happened. Rain battered the windows and a storm picked up, no doubt sensitive to his dad’s emotions.

The reality of what he’d found tonight was a conflict in his mind. His parents weren’t star-crossed lovers or teenagers who had been madly in love; that wasn’t why they’d married so young. Veronica had lost her true love to another woman because he was too much of a coward to fight for her. Asher had stood next to Cesa as he married a woman he didn’t know, just to appease parents who would never be happy with his choices.

No, his parents weren’t madly in love with each other, but they didn’t have to be. They’d comforted each other through a shared pain, becoming friends, a support system, and secret keepers. Love came later, gradually, because they’d allowed themselves to grow from friends to something more without resistance.

Storm retreated from the memories attached to the book, returning his mind to the body sitting on the window seat of Rowan’s bedroom. He fought the overwhelming rush of tears threatening to overtake him because he knew the truth. Veronica and Asher were strangers who became friends, and they died with hearts broken by empty promises from lost lovers.