Captivating Magic (The Thorne Witches #14)

Chapter 27

27

E very bone in Ebba’s body ached.

“Such is the price I agreed to,” she muttered as she exited the shed after pulling on her sweatclothes.

Inside the building, Alastair and Laszlo had created an exact replica of her apartment for her monthly shift. With careful consideration, they’d provided all the comforts of home, with the addition of a super-sized doggy door for Kyrella to come and go when the mood struck or she wanted to curl up and sleep.

After sliding the panel into place to prevent unwanted critters from using Kyrella’s entrance, she turned the key in the lock.

A twig snapped.

She whirled with a snarl, hackles up, and fighting stance at the ready.

Her instincts were on point. Or rather Kyrella’s were. They shared acute hearing and smell, along with a heightened distrust of strangers.

“It’s just me, Sweet Ebba.”

Laszlo.

His dark hair fell over one brow, giving him a roguish look. Or perhaps it was the appreciation in his amber eyes that held the appeal.

“What are you doing here?”

“I returned last night and couldn’t wait another second to see you,” he said, walking toward her with purposeful steps.

Her heart picked up its pace. “Returned? From where?”

“The past.”

“Oh!” She grinned as her tension eased. “I was wondering when your past and present selves would collide.”

“Yeah, I’m told it’s going to take anywhere from a few days to weeks to acclimate.” He twirled his finger in her hair, tangling it with one of her corkscrew curls. “It’s a bizarre rush to have all my memories shift and mesh.”

“Alex said it would happen once the timelines intersected.”

“How so?” he asked.

His gaze ate up her features, landing on her mouth, and Ebba’s blood began pumping like Kyrella’s on an invigorating run. The desire to lean into his hand and be petted was strong. She suspected it had nothing to do with her wolf.

“The new timeline finally reached the five-month mark when you traveled to the past and your soul returned three hours later,” Ebba said. “Alex warned you about the rebound effect of the flood of old and new memories merging.”

“Did it happen to you, too?”

“No. I can’t recall anything but the events surrounding the accident.”

He frowned and stopped playing with her hair. Putting some distance between them, he asked, “You don’t remember me telling you I love you?”

“Not exactly. I believe you said we were going to fall in love in five months. I assume that’s now.”

“Fuck! It just occurred to me that day we spent together didn’t happen.” He shook his head as if dazed. “You didn’t show up at the café, asking for help, and we didn’t spend time together trying to reunite your soul and body. Worse, I didn’t wake to the fact I’ve loved you since we were teenagers.”

She gasped and pressed her hands to her mouth.

“It’s true, Sweet.” His gaze searched her face. “Please tell me I’m not too late.”

Ebba shook her head, and Laszlo closed his eyes in apparent relief.

“Thank Christ!”

“Maybe thank the Goddess instead?” she teased, coming down from the lofty heights of wonder. Since the accident, she’d met with Isis a few times to learn about their friendship. The Goddess had been forthcoming, and Ebba understood why they’d been close. Those meetings had left her with a deep appreciation for deities, magic, and nature.

“Yeah, her, too.” The softness left his eyes, and they shimmered with wickedness. His mouth kicked up at the corners to match, and that devilish smile weakened Ebba’s knees.

“We kissed in the previous timeline,” he said with a twinkle. “I got to feel you up a little while we were at it.”

“Hmm.” She closed the distance between them with purpose and a boldness she’d never have dared before he spoke of love. Reaching up, she wove her fingers in his dark mane and dragged his head down to hers to nip his lip. “What about me? Did I get to feel you up?”

“There wasn’t time.” His tone was regretful.

She trailed her fingers down his chest, hesitating oh-so slightly when she reached his waistband. “We have time now.”

“Mm.” He glanced behind her at the shed. “What are you suggesting?”

“I—”

He hauled her up and over his shoulder. “Yep. I agree.”

Laughing, she slapped his butt. “I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t?” he asked, suspiciously innocent. “I was sure I heard you say, ‘Rock my world, Lo.’”

“Nope. I didn’t say it.” He hesitated at the door, and she giggled. “I did think it, though.”

“Must be the familiar-witch connection.”

He blasted the door off its hinges, tossed her like a sack of potatoes on the bed, and secured the door with a wave of his hand. With a jubilant bounce, he joined her on the bed.

“Your seduction needs work,” she scolded, dragging his T-shirt over his head and tossing it away.

“You want the princess treatment or the real-woman treatment?”

Ebba locked her legs around his hips and rocked upward. “You’ve known me my entire life. What about me screams princess?”

“Not one fucking thing,” he growled as he captured her mouth.

His playful kiss deepened, becoming more consuming, and Ebba met the demand, giving him all she had to offer. Laszlo’s weight pressed into her, grounding her in the here and now. His lips trailed down her neck, and he lingered at her collarbone, planting kisses that sent shivers through her and caused her to gasp. Every movement was purposeful as his hands traced her curves, and he seemed to be memorizing the contours of her body, his touch reverent and unhurried.

Her breath hitched, and her fingers threaded through his hair as she surrendered to the sensation of being wholly, undeniably alive. His movements slowed further, turning deliberate and setting her ablaze. Yet each caress reflected the emotions they could no longer contain. It wasn’t only about the physical—it was about everything they’d endured to get here, the walls they’d torn down, the fears they’d conquered. It was about trust, love, and finding something real from all the chaos that came before.

Ebba's heart raced in her chest. Her emotions were born of exhilaration and a vivid realization that this moment was forever theirs. From this instant until forever, she’d think of him as hers. Tugging him closer, she threaded her fingers through his hair and smiled as his lips traveled upward to meet hers again.

This kiss was different from the others—deeper, almost desperate. It carried the weight of everything unsaid, a culmination of his longing and a silent plea for forgiveness that he’d chosen Charlotte all those years ago.

Laszlo stripped her bare, worshipping every square inch of her with his mouth and leaving her skin tingling under his touch. She arched into him, and her breath caught as he murmured, “I love you, Sweet Ebba,” against her neck. His voice was low and reverent, as if she were something sacred. "Tell me this is real. Tell me you’re mine."

Her chest tightened at hearing his raw vulnerability, and she cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over the faint stubble along his jaw.

"I’ve always been yours, Laszlo Thorne,” she replied, her voice trembling but sure. "Even when you didn’t know it."

He closed his eyes as the weight of her words sank in. The moisture in his, when he opened them, threatened to undo her. His amber gaze burned with an intensity that quickened her pulse.

Their lips met again, and there was no holding back this time. The air between them shifted, and the laughing way they’d started developed into something more profound. His hands moved with purpose, and his touch ignited an all-consuming fire within her. Letting herself fall into him, Ebba trailed her hands down the defined muscles of his back, feeling the strength that had carried them through their trials.

She cried out when he entered her, and with each stroke, they lost themselves in each other. Their passionate lovemaking was a testament to her life that he'd fought so hard to save.

Time blurred, and the outside world was forgotten as they created a space that was entirely theirs—a place where magic didn’t complicate, where ghosts didn’t linger, and where love could flourish unbound.

Eventually, their sexual energy dwindled into a quieter intimacy, and as they rested, he held her as if he feared she might disappear. She understood the emotion. Hell, she half feared this was all a bizarre fantasy she'd concocted in her mind to cope with the trauma of the accident. As she rested her cheek against his chest, she counted his steady heartbeats and smiled. The rhythm was soothing, creating a sound that felt remarkably like home.