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  He flashed a grin before thrusting back into her. With every stroke he took her higher, building her pleasure with expert touches. His hot breath panted against her neck as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

  Mikayla gasped as he stroked into her, her nails biting into the bronzed skin she clutched. He was her only anchor as her body writhed with the force of the pleasure he inspired. Instinctively she rocked her hips up to meet his every thrust, trying to pull him even deeper into her.

  She surged against him, needing more. The bed creaked under them and for a fleeting second Mikayla prayed her sisters wouldn’t return early. Nothing could stop her driving need for fulfillment. This all-consuming desire left no room to concentrate on anything but the sizzling sensations Ciar inspired within her.

  More, she wanted to cry out but she was beyond words. Instead she moved faster, rocking her pelvis up to him. She was so close. Her breath came in harsh pants. Ciar responded to her urgency, matching her desperation with his own. They moved together, driving toward completion.

  With a last strong thrust, Mikayla broke apart in his arms. Her cry echoed in the room as her climax crashed over her. Pleasure more intense than anything she’d ever experienced washed away all coherent thought. All she could do was grip Ciar as she rode the waves of her orgasm.

  Even after the pleasure had crested, Mikayla twitched in the aftermath. By her side Ciar watched her with pleasure-glazed eyes.

  Mikayla turned her head to see him, smiling weakly.

  “Well, witch,” he murmured, trailing a finger along her jaw. “We should have done that much sooner.”

  “Says the man who kept us apart,” she replied, still breathless.

  He grinned and rolled closer. Mikayla smiled as he pressed a light kiss to her lips. “My abject apologies.”

  She grinned. “As long as you do this again, I’ll forgive you.”

  “Promise,” he replied, wicked plans dancing in his eyes.

  He leaned back down to kiss her and Mikayla heard the telltale “poof” signaling the end of his transformation.

  Mikayla sighed as the poodle appeared next to her. Looked like the magic had worn off and their time was up. Ciar whined in frustration and Mikayla couldn’t help agreeing.

  “At least we got through the good part,” she told the dog as he snuggled up to her side.

  Mikayla closed her eyes, absently stroking his soft fur. A smile curved her lips. Maybe there was a chance she could be the one to break the spell.

  Even if it was only a tiny one.

  Chapter Five

  Morning sunlight flooded through the room as Ciar rested his head on his furry paws, watching the woman sleeping by his side. Normally he wasn’t the kind of demon who enjoyed staying in his lover’s bed all night. It was too personal, it made things complicated too fast. But with Mikayla he hadn’t been able to tear himself away. Not even after she’d slipped into such a deep sleep she never would have known he’d left.

  What is it about this woman? he wondered for the hundredth time. There was a reason he kept all his relationships superficial. Life was easier that way. And safer all around.

  Except nothing was ever simple with Mikayla.

  He closed his eyes, remembering the last time he’d felt this way. It had nearly destroyed his family and sent him into exile. No, nothing good came from caring for lovers. He’d learned his lesson, hadn’t he?

  Mikayla shifted by his side. Ciar turned back to her, helpless to do anything but enjoy the last few moments of quiet. Her sleeping face was relaxed in a peace he never saw during the day. Usually worry filled her eyes or, when he was lucky, lust. But she never looked as unguarded as she did now.

  Her brown hair was tangled around her face and he longed to brush it away but for that he needed hands, not paws. He was still figuring out this cursed spell, but the limits were frustrating. Three times the magic had recharged enough to allow his transformation during the night and each time, he and Mikayla had made the most of it. The memory made him smile as much as a poodle could. She was glorious, his witch, even more so naked and writhing in pleasure. What he wouldn’t give to claim his true form now and wake her properly. Surely the spell would recharge soon. He just had to wait it out.

  In sleep Mikayla clutched the pale-blue sheet to her chest but it rode low on her hips. He wondered if he could pull it down with his teeth without waking her. A night should have been enough to purge her from his system, but he wasn’t even close to being done with her. He might never be.

  Ciar sighed softly. Mikayla was twisting his whole world around. Why was he so willing to forgive her for it?

  He rested his head on his paws and settled in to wait for her to wake. It should have been a chore, but instead Ciar found he enjoyed the stolen moments. It was peaceful lying there, listening to her even breathing. When was the last time he’d been so relaxed? He couldn’t even remember.

  Ciar had no concept of how much time passed before Mikayla inhaled deeply and opened her large green eyes. When her gaze landed on him she smiled in unreserved welcome. Warmth filled him at the gesture. Had anyone ever looked at him like that?

  “Hi,” she murmured, not bothering to grab the sheet that pooled at her waist. “Can you change back yet?”

  He gave her a little whine in response.

  “Too bad,” she said. “We didn’t even scratch the surface of what I want to do with you.”

  Ciar woofed in response, more than willing to pick up where they’d left off once he could regain his own form.

  “Might as well get dressed,” she sighed, “since spending the day in bed is not an option.”

  He watched her slip from beneath the covers as the familiar tremors ran through him. They were faint, nowhere near the power needed to shed his poodle form, but at least it was a good sign. A few more minutes and he should be ready to strip off the sweater she was currently pulling over her head.

  Mikayla dressed quickly and Ciar mourned the necessity. He wished he could keep her in bed all day. Or all week. If it weren’t for this damn spell, he’d never let her leave the bedroom.

  Of course, if not for the spell, he never would have made love to her in the first place. He nearly howled at the thought.

  Mikayla was almost finished dressing when her sisters burst through the door.

  Ciar growled at them instinctively. Mikayla he might forgive, but her meddlesome sisters were a thorn in his side.

  “Hey guys,” Mikayla said . “Did you just get back?”

  Tamsyn nodded, glancing at Ciar. “Yeah, you sent us on a bit of a wild ride last night.”

  “Are you all right?” Mikayla demanded, her concern clear in her voice.

  Wyn waved her hand in dismissal. “What do you think? People don’t call us witches for nothing.”

  “What did you find?”

  Wyn and Tamsyn exchanged a long look. “Well,” Tamsyn hedged.

  “Your solution,” Wyn said, obviously not sharing her sister’s reticence.

  Ciar trotted to the edge of the bed, watching the conversation. What was going on? Where had the troublesome sisters gone and why? He glanced at his lover, not liking the idea of even more secrets.

  “We think we found what you were looking for,” Tamsyn told Mikayla. “And she’s waiting downstairs in the kitchen.”

  Mikayla froze, still as a statue. The reaction troubled Ciar. What had happened to put that bleak look in her eyes? She turned to him and the expression on her face was like a dagger in his chest. He growled at the sisters. Surely if they left he’d be able to change back. The electricity surging through him was almost enough burst from his skin. He needed his own body right now. Something was very wrong.

  “Who is it?” Mikayla breathed, not looking away from him.

  Tamsyn glanced at Ciar before murmuring, “His ex-fiancée, Alina.”

  The world whirled around him. Alina? Had the sisters just said Alina was here? The breath froze in his tiny chest.

  “Fi
ancée?” Mikayla whispered in horror.

  Ciar launched himself from the bed. His tiny claws scraped against the wood as he bolted from the room.

  He was vaguely aware of Mikayla and her sisters racing after him but he didn’t slow. Only one thought rang through his mind.

  Alina was here.

  * * * * *

  Mikayla raced after Ciar. When he burst into the kitchen, she threw out her arms to catch her sisters before they could stumble into the room and dampen the magic. From the hallway they watched the black smoke envelop the little dog before Ciar stepped from the wisps.

  “He’s attracted to her,” she reported dully.

  “That’s a good thing, right?” Tamsyn asked.

  Mikayla couldn’t reply as she watched the woman waiting by the sink turn and face the man behind her.

  She was radiantly beautiful. Her hair was as dark as Ciar’s and hung well past her waist. Silver eyes widened when she saw the man waiting for her.

  Mikayla thought she looked more like a fairy princess than a demon. She was small and petite. The kind of delicate creature men loved to protect. The formal blue dress she wore hugged her perfect body, accentuating her soft curves.

  Alina was beautiful, composed and worst of all, his kind. One thing Mikayla could never be.

  Mikayla leaned against the wall as she watched her lover move toward the angelic woman as if in a trance.

  “Alina.” He breathed her name like a prayer.

  A smile curved Alina’s red lips as she raised a trembling hand to Ciar.

  Mikayla looked away as he pulled the foreign woman into his arms, crushing her to him in a tight embrace.

  “What are you doing here?” Ciar asked, burying his face in her jet-black hair.

  “The witches found me,” she replied in a soft, lyrical voice. “They said you needed me. How could I stay away when you were in trouble?”

  Ciar stiffened in her arms and stepped back, his gaze swinging to Mikayla’s as she stood at the end of the hall.

  “Go,” Tamsyn whispered in her ear, pushing her forward.

  Mikayla took a step forward, gliding toward the kitchen. What happened if she stepped into the room and Ciar reverted to his dog form? How would she survive the knowledge he no longer wanted her now that this new woman was here?

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped across the threshold.

  Ciar didn’t change. He kept staring at her with eyes filled with questions. Mikayla released a shuddering breath of relief.

  “Why did you bring Alina here?” he demanded.

  “We thought she might be able to help us with the spell. Alina, welcome to our home.”

  The woman regarded her with sharp eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “I am more than willing to help.”

  “Let me show you to the guest bedroom. I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Alina looked up at the demon by her side and smiled. “Yes, I believe we have.”

  “Wait,” Ciar said. “First I want to know why—”

  “Alina, right this way,” Wyn said, striding into the kitchen.

  With a “poof”, Ciar was back to his poodle form, growling and snarling at their feet.

  “Oh my,” Alina said, crouching down to see the dog. “He’s rather cute this way.”

  Mikayla gritted her teeth as Alina cuddled Ciar into her arms before straightening. “Lead the way, Wyn,” Alina said to her, hugging Ciar.

  Mikayla watched her sister lead them from the room. She didn’t want to think about what they would do in the privacy of the guestroom.

  Tamsyn walked into the kitchen, watching Mikayla with too-perceptive eyes.

  “Did we act too soon?” she asked, resting a hand on Mikayla’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t have found her yet.”

  “How did you?” Mikayla whispered.

  “Derric,” Tamsyn said. “You know, the vampire who owns the Black Cat? He always seems to know everything about everyone. Turns out he knows a great deal about Ciar’s past. I don’t know why Ciar and Alina broke off their relationship or why he came here, but they were betrothed for years.”

  Mikayla nodded, taking in the new information. “Then they probably loved each other,” she said. “Which means it may not take long for old feelings to resurface. Ciar might be free of the spell sooner than we thought.”

  “Kay,” Tamsyn started before puffing her bangs from her eyes as she did when agitated. “I think Ciar is a bad idea. You know that. But you care about him, so for a second I’ll try to play the supportive sister. Did you ever consider maybe you are the right woman to break this spell? There must have been a reason you wove this magic.”

  Looking toward the empty hall Ciar had disappeared down, Mikayla said, “Looks like we’re going to find out. One way or another.”

  * * * * *

  “You don’t belong here,” Ciar said.

  Ciar watched Alina pace the length of the guest bedroom they’d ensconced themselves in. Away from the prying eyes of Mikayla’s infernal sisters he’d been able to transform immediately. But whether he was a demon or a dog, Ciar had no words for the storm this one woman was capable of stirring up.

  “You don’t either,” she said, pausing by the window to look out at the new world.

  She moved just how he remembered, with the grace of nobility. How many times had he watched her walk, marveling that she was his?

  He shook his head to clear it. The past was past.

  “This is my home now.”

  “Your family misses you.”

  He snorted. “Misses the target so conveniently painted on my back, maybe.”

  “Ciar,” Alina said reprovingly.

  “Why did the witches bring you here?”

  She turned back to him with the same half-smile curving her lips that he remembered. “They weren’t very informative. Secretive bunch, aren’t they? But I wasn’t really in the mood to ask a lot of questions.” She drifted closer, gliding across the distance separating them. “They said you were in trouble, Ciar. I didn’t protest after that.”

  He caught her wrist when she reached out to touch him. “Why would you care?”

  “Harsh,” she whispered.

  “Fair,” he replied.

  Alina didn’t try to tug her hand free. Instead she stepped forward to press her body against his. Ciar hissed at the contact.

  “I don’t know why it was so important for me to come,” she whispered. “But I know I’m thankful for the chance.”

  “You made your choice.”

  “Teivel is dead.” Pain laced the quiet words. It was a pain Ciar was more than familiar with, one he experienced every time he heard his brother’s name.

  He pushed her away roughly. “I know that.”

  “Did you grieve?”

  He bared his teeth at her, an inhuman gesture, but Alina had a habit of awakening the demon in him. He’d spent months in the human world learning to control his more basic instincts, to blend in with the mortals around him, and within minutes Alina had managed to rip away that thin veneer of civility. “What do you think?”

  “I think many demons wouldn’t have. But you have never been like the others, Ciar.”

  “Defective, you mean?” How many times had he heard that before? As a second son he should have been all muscle and no brain. He should have lived to support his betters, not think for himself. He was too unpredictable for the demon world and too violent for the human one.

  She shook her head. “There is more to you than your ambition. More than your brawn. You know as well as I that is rare among our people.”

  “Your people,” he corrected. “I left for a reason, Alina. I have no intention of going back.”

  For a moment she was silent. “Not even if you could go back with me?” she asked finally.

  Ciar paused, thinking of the years he’d spent wishing for just that future.

  “This is our second chance, Ciar,” she said. “I know I screwed up the first time but I swear to
you, I won’t repeat my mistakes.”

  “A second chance,” he mused. “Perhaps it’s not one I want.”

  A knowing smile curved her lips, one that said no man would ever turn down an opportunity to be with her. The smile irritated him. It was too knowing. Too self-assured.

  Worst of all, it wasn’t Mikayla’s.

  “Hell,” he swore, dragging a hand down his face. The witch had really done a number on him if he was thinking of her while looking at the woman he had once thought to spend his life with.

  “Don’t you remember how it was with us?” Alina continued. “For years it has been your face I see in my dreams at night. Not Teivel’s.”

  “You did that to us, Alina. Not I.”

  She stepped closer again. “Fate brought us back together. Do you not even want to find out why?”

  He dodged her when she reached for him again. “I like this world. I have a life here. It’s not one you fit into.”

  “This isn’t your home. Come back with me, Ciar.”

  For a moment he thought about the realm he’d left behind so many years ago. It was a dark, violent place, but despite its faults, there were spots of wondrous beauty. He’d lived centuries there and when he’d left, he hadn’t known how he would survive cut off from his own.

  But survive he did in this chaotic, loud, brash world. He’d traveled the globe and found places he enjoyed. Never somewhere to belong, though. Not until he’d come to this city six months ago and seen a witch across a crowded bar.

  Alina was his past. Mikayla, his present.

  Which woman would be his future?

  “Stay here,” he ordered her. He saw the surprise in her eyes as he strode from the room but didn’t pause.

  He needed answers and there was only one person who could give them to him.

  * * * * *

  Mikayla grabbed the blue sheets on her bed and ripped them off the mattress, tossing them into the waiting pile of laundry.

  His fiancée. Ciar had a damn fiancée. And she’d never known. She didn’t know anything about her lover. Not really. And when she’d had the chance to start learning more, a beautiful fiancée showed up.