Witch Bewitched (New)

Chapter 60 (Pt. 2)

Misa lay awake, watching a small black blur circle the air before landing on the ceiling. The moonlight cast a shadow behind it, warping its form. The fly inched forward, paused, then sprang back into the air, whipping the air with its telltale buzz.

Misa couldn't sleep. She blamed it on the annoying whine of the fly.

If only it was that simple.

Letting out a breath, she turned to her side, deciding to ignore the intruder and let the real reason for her lack of sleep take over her mind.

After the witches' meet earlier that night, Misa had lost all hope of ever finding Leira. Brin had been devastated when Kaila backed Nisha's story, and it was so heartbreakingly believable that Misa was almost convinced she was telling the truth. Either Brin had been betrayed by her own sister, or she had mastered the skills of deception.

Whatever the case, it likely saved her life. Without Leira's presence to prove even Brin's good intentions, the small witch had been at a bad place in the judgement. Her obvious devastation, guilt, and shock was probably the only reason her punishment had been the loss of her magic rather than death.

And through it all, Misa had been completely and utterly useless. Just like she had been when Gaveth beat Leira. Just like she had been when the bull rammed into Colvin and when Royle had left her in his apartment to take care of the mess.

Oh, Royle.

Misa's heart clenched. With all her focus on mastering her cloaking, training with Rithian to learn how to sustain all of Tika's magic, and planning to somehow save Leira, Misa hadn't had any time to think of him. But now, in the quiet of the night, under the gaze of the moon, Misa missed him. She missed the security his mere presence offered her, the comfort of knowing he'd be there when she needed him, and the warmth that engulfed her when she was cold with fear and uncertainty and despair.

And now, she missed his plans. The surety with which he carried them, taking every opportunity to ensure they would succeed in the end.

The fly buzzed in her ear; Misa swatted at it. It droned away and became quiet. Irritated, Misa pushed herself up and slipped off her bed. A drink of water would help clear her head, and maybe leaving the comfort of her bed would lure sleep back to her.

She creaked open the door and tried to remain quiet even though she knew well that Torren was a deep sleeper. She doubted her light footsteps would so much as stir him. Even so, she crept past his door and flicked on a lantern once she reached the kitchen.

Misa grabbed a cup and filled it with water from a pitcher before draining it into her parched throat. The water was sweet and cool, prompting her to take a second fill.

She had just finished the second cup when a sudden thud from behind made her freeze. She waited, straining her ear. And...

There it was again. A slight thump against wood, as if something was knocking against it. Not in a purposeful manner, like someone rapping their knuckles at the door. No. It was more subtle. Like the branch of a tree scraping against the window in a rhythm played by the wind.

But there were no trees in the yard, and the sound hadn't come from the window. Misa set her drink down. Blood roared in her ears, accompanied by the drums of her pulse. There was something in the house. Misa wiped her clammy hands on her nightgown and crept out to the sitting room.

A slight jingle pierced her ears. She turned to the door. There was no mistaking it. Someone, or something, was at the door.

Misa surveyed the area, her heart jumping at the sight of every dark shadow. The knob turned, the door jittered, but it did not open. There was a murmur behind the door before something clunked and thumped.

Someone was trying to get in.

Fear clogged Misa's throat. A burglar? A murderer? A witch? Misa frantically looked around, eyes darting for anything she could use as a weapon. They landed on the fireplace, and Misa tiptoed towards it to grab the iron poker that hung from a hook.

Click.

Misa whirled around, the rod in both her hands. The doorknob turned, and the door pushed open. A tall shadow slipped inside, shutting the door behind it. Misa didn't give it a chance to have a look around. She started towards it, quietly at first. Then, when the intruder was about to see her anyway, she traded stealth for speed and charged.

Misa drew up her hands, getting ready to swing.

"Misa!"

But she was already throwing down the rod with the full force of her arms behind it, the momentum too much for her to stop by the time the voice registered in her ears.

The rod made contact, sending vibrations down to Misa's elbows. A hiss of pain, then a curse. Misa dropped the poker with a gasp.

"Royle!" Her hands went over her mouth. She could see him now, under the subtle pale light of the moon, that warm, familiar face grimacing in pain. He was lowering his left arm, his right hand cradling it. "Holy heavens, I'm so sorry!"

She gently grabbed his wrist and studied the damage with a grimace. Even though she couldn't quite see anything under the dim lighting, she knew he wouldn't be unharmed. "It's bruising, isn't it?"

"I'm fine." He pulled away from her grip, wincing as he rubbed his injury. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"So, you decided to make a fire?" Royle kicked at the poker and raised a brow.

"I heard noises outside the door, and I thought a thief was trying to break into the house. It was the closest weapon I could find."

"Your first instinct was to plan an attack? It would have been much safer to wake Torren."

Misa grimaced. "I was scared. It was the first thing I thought of."

"And what would you have done if this hypothetical thief wasn't alone?"

Misa shook her head, a scowl forming at his words. "You break into my home, and the first thing you do is lecture me on my poor decisions? What are you doing here, anyway? And why were you creeping in like some kind of criminal?"

Instead of replying, Royle gazed at her, tilting his head in thought.

Then, as if he couldn't take it anymore, he stepped closer to her and drew her into an embrace. Misa stiffened, but then the warmth flooded into her. She melted and threw her arms around his waist. This warmth, this sizzling, spine-tingling warmth. Was this a dream? Had Tika's magic sensed the yearning and conjured up a dream so vivid Misa could feel Royle's heat press into her? If it was, Misa wished to never wake up.

"Misa," Royle whispered in that soft, sweet tone. "You have no idea how worried I was these past few weeks." He stroked her hair, pressed a hand against the small of her back. "I've been doing everything I could to come down here as soon as possible."

Misa pulled back, and Royle loosened his embrace just enough that she could face him. Misa's eyes softened at the sight of him. The contours of his face were thrown in shadow, etched somehow with both concern and relief. She touched his cheek, still unable to distinguish between her dreams and reality. Was this really him? Right here, in her arms?

"Royle," she murmured. "It's really you. It's really, really you. Is this a dream? Am I dreaming?"

Royle smiled, those lips curving so invitingly. "No, Misa. This isn't a dream."

Tears brimmed. Tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of sheer terror, Misa did not know. She let them fall because she was finally at peace. Even if it would be for just one night, she had gotten what she needed.

"I missed you," she said, her heart aching at the memory. Her fingers trailed up his cheekbone, to his ear, and combed through his hair. Those dark, beautiful locks. So soft and free under her touch.

"Misa."

And Misa couldn't take it anymore. In the darkness, the quiet of the night, the tint of blue filtering through the windows, and Royle, warm, strong, tender Royle standing right in front of her. There was something so magical, so intimately, achingly beautiful that Misa was convinced this was one of her dreams. So, she snaked her arms around his neck and raised her heels

"There's something you should know," Royle murmured.

"Shh." Misa put a finger on his soft lips. She gazed at him from under her lashes, into those deep, dark eyes that held so much mystery and worry and warmth. A dream. This was a dream. "It can wait."

His breath hitched, and there was tension in his arms. Misa let the tip of her finger trace the bottom of his lip. Silky. Smooth. Exactly how she imagined it would be. Because this was a dream.

"Royle," she breathed. "I..." A dream. Just a dream where her fears would not hinder her. So, she closed the gap, and pressed her lips against his.

He stilled, and for a moment, Misa wondered why he wasn't reacting. Then his hand brushed her cheek, cradled her jaw, and he returned the kiss, so tender and firm.

Misa melded into him, her knees weakening as she finally let him take over her senses. His hot touch, the scent of his skin. Her fingers threaded his hair, and she let out a small whimper of surprise when he pushed her against the door. His kiss deepened, desperate, like a fire deprived of air. Misa returned it with the same vigour, wanting him, needing him. Her heart fluttered against him, and hot tingles blasted through her veins.

Royle pulled back, heaving, eyes glistening with affection and desire. "You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that," he said, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

Misa gasped for air, not realising she'd been out of breath. Tingles still shuddered through her, taking her strength so she was unable to stand. More. She wanted more.

"Royle." She was practically pleading.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He took her mouth with his, pressing her up against the door, swallowing her quiet cries. Misa tightened her grip, pulled him closer. Fire ignited in her gut, heat spreading to her face, her neck, to every pore in her body.

His lips moved, each nibble, each flick of the tongue sending spikes of electricity down her spine. Misa pressed into him, her toes barely holding her up. Her hands explored him, one still buried deep in his hair, the other trailing down to his neck, his shoulder, his chest, where his heart raced with hers. Her lungs burned, and Misa pulled back only because she needed to breathe.

But Royle didn't stop, peppering kisses down her jaw, nipping her ear, tasting her neck.

"Heavens." Misa gasped as pleasure blasted through her. "Royle."

He hummed against her, leaving hot trails down her neck. His fingers traced down to her hip, her thighs until they touched bare skin, hiking up her gown to a dangerous height. This was the best dream she'd ever had.

"Misa," he mumbled into her.

"Yes?" Her breath hitched as his fingertips tickled her thighs.

"I missed you." He pulled back, and the night chill bit into her skin. He let go of her leg, and Misa swayed, his body pressing her against the wall the only reason she could remain upright. "I missed you so, so much."

The cloud of tension lifted, and a glint of sadness, a flicker of terror broke through. Misa smiled for him, brushing her knuckles against his cheek. "I'm sure you did." She knew in her heart that Royle missed her. That he missed her at this moment as much as she missed him. At least, he'd come to her in her dream, and this was enough to endure it for just a little longer.

"Come to bed with me?" she asked, bold because she knew this wasn't real. "I'm having trouble sleeping."

Royle's eyes glinted with mischief, and he pressed his lips against hers for a quick, tender kiss. "Of course."

Giggling, she took his hand and led him to the hall, creeping past Torren's room until she reached her own. The door was already ajar, and she pulled Royle through. The fly no longer grabbed her attention, and as the door clicked shut, Royle nudged Misa to her bed.

"Get some sleep," he said.

Misa slipped on the bed, sliding to the wall to give Royle some space. Even so, the bed was made for one person, and Royle could barely fit.

Still, he sidled up next to her, and the bed creaked under his weight. "There's no room for me," he muttered.

Misa let out a small laugh. "There's always room for you, Royle."

"Perhaps if we do this." Royle stuck Misa to his chest and flipped them over so his back was against the wall. "Roll over."

"Why?"

He smiled, so dazzling against the gleam of the moon. "So we can be comfortable."

A dream. Misa kissed him once more before she flipped her back towards him. A strong arm snaked over her waist and pulled her close to his chest, and Misa did not need her blanket to warm her for the rest of the night.