Seven years after The Beast Curse

After finishing his duties for the afternoon, Oakmoor leapt upright from his study desk at Oakmoor Castle and whistled for Sage, and the mottled-green draklizard swooped from the perch beside the communication mirror to alight on his shoulder. Becoming accustomed to constantly carrying a draklizard had taken months, but after having Sage for nearly seven years, he felt naked without his fierce magical pet on his shoulder. Then he strode from his study to Juliet’s workroom to check if she’d finished her spellwork for the day.

Yet Juliet was still in the middle of casting some spell because her bright white magic shone around her and inside Oakmoor Castle’s glass furnace before her. While he eyed his industrious wife, he smoothed the preserved gold griffin feather pinned over his heart that matched the one Juliet wore—their wedding tokens that the veiled witch had procured from the same griffins who’d created his griffin cloak and had sent them the morning after Juliet had moved into Oakmoor House. He smiled at Juliet’s intense focus and power as she cast her spell. His amazing wife was as bewitching and determined as ever, and he loved being the adoring husband she’d always wanted. He grinned. Over seven years of marriage and two children hadn’t dulled Juliet’s delightfully biting tongue and bold strength or their explosive passion and deep love for one another either. A happier and fuller life than they’d ever imagined they’d enjoy when he was still the greatest rakehell in Ormas and she was just Calatini’s illustrious royal witch.

Since Juliet would find them as soon as she finished her spellwork, Oakmoor bounded upstairs to the nursery to rescue their children from their afternoon lessons. When he silently slipped into the schoolroom, the governess Millie—his valet Miles’s eldest daughter named after her grandmother—smiled at him, which immediately drew his sharp-eyed children’s attention.

His and Juliet’s nearly seven-year-old daughter Beatrice whirled to face him with an excited grin, her dark-brown hair flying, hazel eyes bright, and light olive skin glowing. Their little girl was as bewitching and bold as her amazing mother. And although her magical powers hadn’t developed yet, Bea was fascinated whenever anyone performed magic, which Juliet said was a sure sign she’d grow into a powerful witch one day. His duchy was fortunate to have such a clever and accomplished girl as their next duchess. And he and Juliet were even more fortunate to have her as a daughter.

Not to be outdone by his elder sister, their three-year-old son Benedick whirled around too, and although his coloring exactly matched Bea’s, his grin was more impish and features stronger. Despite still being a toddler, Ben was just as independent, clever, and bold as his sister and mother. Plus, he could charm even the most chary faebird from the trees and was just as fascinated by magic as Bea. Ladies would need to watch themselves around Ben once he was grown, although hopefully he’d find love and not become a rakehell like he himself had. And since Ben wouldn’t inherit the duchy, he’d be free to travel if he wanted and make an even better itinerant ambassador witch one day than his Varkhoran cousin Prince Marco currently did.

Ben on her heels, Bea raced across the schoolroom and flung herself at Oakmoor’s legs. The little girl burst out, “Papa, you’re here! Can we go play hide from the beast in the garden now?”

Ben bounced beside Bea. “Hide from the beast! Hide from the beast!”

Warmth filling his chest, Oakmoor chuckled and embraced his squirming children. Then he tweaked Bea’s nose. “That depends on if you two were good for Millie today.”

Millie grinned. “They were good enough. Bea finished copying the Amun Prophecy then quizzed me at length about it. And Ben read all of Lady Treyvan and Lady Beza Hawke’s picture storybook about the arachne on Mist Isle.”

Oakmoor hummed, playfully narrowing his eyes at his still squirming children. “I suppose that counts as good enough to play hide from the beast.”

Bea and Ben both whooped then bolted from the schoolroom, so after nodding farewell to Millie, Oakmoor grinned and hurried after them. When he joined them in the center of the brisk garden ablaze with mid-autumn colors, Bea and Ben bounced and beamed up at him. He launched Sage into the air to hunt then waggled his brows at his children. “I’ll count to ten.” He covered his eyes and began, “One…”

Giggling, Bea and Ben scattered to their favorite hiding places in the garden while he counted.

Once he shouted, “Ten!”, Oakmoor lowered his hands and called, “Here comes the beast.” Then he stomped about the garden, checking silly hiding places first and ignoring the giggles coming from the flowering cherry tree and a yew bush at the back of the garden.

When he “stumbled” into the cherry tree, he peered up into the branches with blazing red-orange leaves then sniffed loudly. “I smell a human girl child. Perfect for a beast.” He plucked Bea from the tree, who squealed. He crowed, “Found you!”

Bea pouted but giggled and hugged his neck. “No fair. Why didn’t you find Ben first?”

Oakmoor grinned and swung his daughter onto his back. “Because you were closer, and this beast needs young eyes to search the garden.”

Bea pointed straight to the quivering yew bush hiding Ben. Her voice heavy with disdain, she drawled, “He’s there, Papa.”

Chuckling at that tone so reminiscent of Juliet’s when he purposely vexed her, Oakmoor murmured, “Let’s check, shall we?”

Bea riding on his back, he lumbered to the yew bush then bent and thrust his hands into the dense, green branches. “Surely even the littlest boy couldn’t hide in here.” He grasped Ben’s torso. “Maybe he could. The beast has you now!” He drew his son toward him.

Unlike Bea, Ben squirmed and thrashed to escape, but Oakmoor’s grasp remained firm, and Ben soon emerged from the yew bush, covered in dirt, twigs, and needle-like leaves. Ben growled and bared his teeth. “No! Hiding.”

Oakmoor tossed Ben in the air to distract Ben from his anger at being caught. “If you hide, you can’t fly.”

Ben shouted with glee. “Again, Papa, again!”

As Oakmoor obeyed and tossed Ben again, Bea shifted on his back and said, “I wanna fly too.”

Oakmoor smiled. Of course Bea did. “After your brother flies a third time.”

He’d just tossed Bea into the air, using magic to make her soar like her brother since her greater weight made that harder, when Juliet’s drawl pierced the noisy garden, “And what’s all this? I thought a pack of hellhounds had gotten loose from the din.”

Bea and Ben shouted in unison, “Mama!” Then Ben bolted toward Juliet, and Bea squirmed until Oakmoor released her before bolting toward her mother too, reaching Juliet at the same time as her brother.

Her amethyst faebird Iris perched on her shoulder and her gold griffin feather glittering over her heart, Juliet grinned and embraced their children—exactly like she’d done in the recurring flash of foresight he’d been blessed with during their tempestuous courtship. Foresight he’d never experienced in all the years since, so Goddess knew why he had back then. But thank her mercy that he had and that his foresight had been true.

Bea beamed up at Juliet. “We were playing hide from the beast, then Papa was making us fly.”

Juliet chuckled. “I see. No wonder you two were so noisy.” Launching Iris into the air, she arched her brows at their children. “Now, how about a round of faebirds versus draklizards?”

Both Bea and Ben whooped, and the four of them played the vigorous Varkhoran game where boys pretended to be hungry draklizards hunting the girls pretending to be faebirds who could foil them with song that sent them to sleep. They continued playing until Bea and Ben began to drag. Then they summoned Sage and Iris back to their shoulders before taking the children upstairs for their late afternoon nap.

Once Bea and Ben were settled, Oakmoor and Juliet headed to the cozy drawing room overlooking the garden that the servants only intruded into if one of them was desperately needed. The children were somewhat less respectful of their parents’ desire for privacy, so he and Juliet had enchanted the room to ring if anyone approached. That usually gave them enough time to repair their appearance with a grooming spell or cast an illusion to hide it at least.

After placing Sage and Iris on their perches, he and Juliet nestled together on the sofa like they usually did. Inhaling her spicy gingyr scent, he rumbled and drew his tempting wife even closer. Bea and Ben would be asleep for over an hour, but he couldn’t wait to make love with Juliet again. This morning was forever ago.

Although she purred at his seductive move like always, Juliet shoved his chest and said, “None of that yet, my love. We must talk first.”

He sighed but stilled. Whatever she wanted to discuss must be important for her to halt his lovemaking. “About what?”

Juliet grinned, her gorgeous dark-brown eyes glowing. “I finally finished creating a better travel spell.” She extracted a glass pendant from her pocket that shimmered with every color in the rainbow and shone with powerful magic.

Oakmoor inhaled as he peered at Juliet’s travel charm. So that had been the spell she’d been casting earlier. “How did you create it at last?”

Juliet twirled her shining iridescent pendant. “By accessing the plane were all places and times are one. It requires more power than short jump travel spells or caravan travel spells, but it should be possible for most Rhiannon descendants or powerful witches like you.”

He frowned, a chill touching his skin. “So you could use your new travel spell to travel to other times?”

Juliet grimaced. “Theoretically, but that requires more power than just traveling distance, so most shan’t be able to manage it—I doubt even I could. Fortunate since traveling to other times isn’t wise. We could mess up the past and would be lost in the future.”

Oakmoor exhaled and squeezed Juliet’s shoulders. “Does your plane travel spell mean we’re visiting Varkhora for Longnight?” The festival of the Goddess that celebrated new beginnings and was the first of the year was only a month and a half away, and the Longnight season started in just four weeks.

Juliet smiled and nodded as she slipped her travel charm back into her pocket. “It does. Mother and Father, not to mention Giovanni and Georgiana and their four children, shall be ecstatic when I call and tell them.”

He blew a heavy sigh to tease Juliet. “You know, we shall have even less time alone while we’re staying with your parents. I’m already feeling deprived.”

Juliet chuckled but slid her arms about his neck. “Rakehell. Do you ever think about anything else?”

Hunger flaring in his veins at the matching desire darkening his bewitching wife’s gaze, Oakmoor lowered his head until their lips almost met. “No more than you, my darling wanton witch. Now make love with me before the children wake up and disturb us.”

Juliet chuckled again. “If I must.”

Then Juliet kissed him, and they were soon making love with their usual voracious passion. How he adored his bold and passionate wife. And to think he’d once been terrified to risk love and commitment. Yet finding both with Juliet, thanks to Elvaira’s vindictive beast curse and the veiled witch’s insightful meddling, had made him the most fortunate gentleman in all of Damensea.