The crystal, imbued with Faerie powers, allowed her to replay and experience just one day of her life. And every night, she made the same choice.
The festive sounds of a ball played in her mind like a fading melody, the laughter and music, the chatter of familiar voices, all of it making her heart ache with painful nostalgia. This was the night that ended it all.
Her breath caught when she saw herself smiling up at Domenico, listening to what he had to say like he was her god. How beautiful he was. And how exquisitely stupid and foolish she had been to believe he truly loved her!
Tears blurred her vision, and when she blinked them away, Rafaella was already there.
“When we say ‘mated’ we’re not talking about sexual intercourse, you idiot. We’re talking about mating as the true joining of two mates…of you becoming like us.”
Even in her memories, the sound of Rafaella’s laughter was poisonous, but it wasn’t what brought the tears back to her eyes and tore her apart. It was the look on her face that night---the moment Misty had the painful inkling that Domenico Moretti would be breaking her heart.
“You may love me, Domenico…but you don’t love me enough.”
Daryl snatched the crystal from her hand, forcing her back into the present.
Misty found herself on her knees, heavy sobs racking her body.
Daryl gathered her in his arms. “Oh, Misty. You have got to stop torturing yourself.”
She shook her head even as the excruciating pain of her memories continued to squeeze her heart like a vise with thorns. “I can’t, Daryl. I need to learn how to stop loving him.”
“Misty, Misty, oh my God, Misty!” Daryl came running into the courtyard, his two-inch wooden sandals making clopping sounds on the brick ground. He skidded to a stop – just to kiss his partner, Milo, on the lips.
The love shining in the gay couple’s eyes made Misty’s own eyes burn, and she hurriedly looked away, trying to distract herself with the shimmering beauty of her surroundings. Because that was how everything was her in the realm of Faeries – shimmering. Probably the only thing that wasn’t shimmering was her heart, which had been crushed to pieces by a no-good---
No, no, no
. She wasn’t going to get to that. She wasn’t going to be melodramatic about it. That part of her life was over.
Daryl finally managed to pull himself away from Milo. “Misty, oh my God---”
The alarm in his face finally got to her, and the sword she had been holding fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers. She had been spending most of her time in the realm of Faeries practicing her sword-fighting skills, finding some strange sense of peace with the clashing sound that swords made. She didn’t have to feel when she was fighting. It was…peaceful.
“What is it? Is it my family?”
“No. Well…not really…there had been an attack against the Lyccans and one of their kind had been tortured.” His eyes were bleak. “It’s your sister-in-law…Estrella.”
~~~
After sixteen months of licking her wounds, Misty finally left the realm of the Faeries. As the emissary and liaison officer of the Faeries for the Lyccans, it was her job to make sure that the pact between the two races would be carried out.
The whispers and the stares began the moment she walked inside the majestic main hall of the Lyccan Council. She climbed the grand staircase to the committee office in the second floor, where Daryl’s father, the Castellano pack leader, waited.
“Misty,” Aurelius greeted her warmly. The white-haired old man gave her a slight bow.
“Sir,” she said, returning the bow with one of her own. She didn’t want to do it, but courtesy made her go through the motions. That bow wasn’t because she was the Faeries’ chosen emissary. It was because she was still Misty Moretti in his eyes, wife to the heir of the Moretti pack leader.
Just the thought of anything associated to Domenico Moretti
hurt.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.” She gave the older man a reassuring smile. He was one of the few Lyccans she trusted. Everyone else…was suspect. She told herself she had to feel that way about them, that she couldn’t be naïve about them anymore. She still remembered every painful second of the last time she had been in Lyccan Hall, when Rafaella had shown her how foolish she had been. How
gullible.
The doors crashed behind them. Aurelius turned, but Misty didn’t because she knew who it was. She wished she didn’t but the way her skin prickled told her no matter what, she still wasn’t able to ignore his presence.
“Misty?” His voice – even though it sounded ragged now – was tortuously familiar.
She took a deep breath before turning around. Without looking straight at him, she murmured, “Domenico.”
Domenico stared, heart hammering in his chest, unable to believe that after sixteen long months of estrangement he was finally seeing Misty again.
Yet she was
different.
It…unnerved him, but at the same time, it attracted him. Everything about Misty made his heart constrict in complete desire.
Damn it, he had missed her so much in the months she had been gone and yet now, she didn’t look as if she cared one whit about their estrangement. Had he truly lost her for good?
She seemed taller, more beautiful, and more ethereal. Something about how Misty looked right now nagged at him. He studied her more carefully, or at least he tried to do so when every instinct he possessed urged Domenico to haul her into his arms and never let go. Misty wore a white voluminous one-shouldered dress that fell just a little past her knees in an asymmetrical hemline. The Misty he knew would never have worn something so elegant before, but
this
Misty carried it easily, as if she was born dressed like---
A Faerie.
She looked like a goddamn Faerie.
His fists clenched. If the Faeries think Misty was theirs, they were in for a goddamn surprise. Domenico had given her time to heal from the scars he had stupidly inflicted, but he knew in his heart he would take her back. If she didn’t want to, that was too fucking bad. Because he would have her back in his life, and he would do whatever it took to make that come true.
“Misty, may we talk privately?” He spared the older man a glance. “Aurelius?”
When the old man left, he turned back to his wife.
~~~
“Look at me, Misty.”
The command in Domenico’s voice struck something inside her, making it impossible for Misty to resist his order. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze to meet his and almost gasped at what she saw.
Domenico was staring at her as if he wanted to eat her alive, his gaze roaming all over her body as if he was already undressing her, as if he was already thinking of all the ways he could sink his cock into her.
One part of her was glad – that meant he desired her, didn’t he? But the larger part of her was cynical. In the end, he had never desired her enough, never loved her as much as he thirsted for revenge against his father.
“How are you?” His voice was guttural, as if he was having a hard time holding his emotions back.
Misty frowned. That was
not
like the Domenico Moretti she knew. The old Domenico had been cold and aloof, perfectly in control, manipulating everything to the very end. Swallowing, she answered only when she could be sure her voice would be steady. “I’m okay. I hope everything’s okay with you, too.”
Her voice was cold and sweet, just like a Faerie, too. It made Domenico bristle. The Faeries were not going to have her. She was his, for better or for worse. She was the princess meant for him…for Lyccans.
Misty remembered one of the reasons why she was here and her heart immediately softened in concern. “How is Estrella?”
“She’s…coping.”
“I hope I may see her later.”
He frowned. “Of course you can. She’s your sister-in-law.”
Her head jerked up. “Domenico---”
He could feel himself going cold. “No,” he said flatly.
She shook her head. The old Misty wouldn’t have argued. But she wasn’t that foolish and submissive anymore. “I mean it. I want the cutting of ties to take place now that I’m here.”
“Well, you’re not going to get it,” he snapped.
She acted like she didn’t hear him. “I’ve thought this through. You’re worried about what others would say, right? You can tell them that I begged to come back. I won’t argue. I just want things to be over in any way---”
“No!”
He had shouted.
Misty was stunned. Domenico never shouted. He wasn’t the type.
Domenico tried to keep his fury under control, but God, hearing Misty personally demand a separation made him want to kill someone. “It’s not over between us,” he gritted out.
Saddened eyes met his. “Of course it is.”
His usual impatience got to him, and Domenico strode toward her. Misty tried to back away, but she was too slow and he was too fast. In a second, he was gripping her hands, forcing her to look at him. “Misty, I want another chance.”
“There’s no need,” she said tonelessly. “I gave you what you wanted---”
“I don’t care about anything but you!” he shouted.
“And you expect me to believe that?”
This time, she had shocked him.
Because she wasn’t the type to shout either and here she was, doing just that.
Taking advantage of his apparent shock, Misty wrenched herself away from Domenico. “I want the cutting of ties,” she told him tightly. “This time, if you’re not going to present it to the Council then I will.”
~~~
Misty was still trembling as she entered the private hospital suite where Estrella Moretti had been confined for two nights already. Memories of her earlier confrontation with Domenico was messing her up internally, making her feel things she no longer wanted to feel. Domenico had stalked off after their argument and she couldn’t believe how painful it was to see him go. It just proved one horrible truth. She was still so, so stupidly in love with him it was embarrassing.
But…she had to be strong. She had to.
“Misty!” Her sister-in-law’s face brightened upon seeing her.
Pushing her dark thoughts away, Misty summoned a smile as she rushed to Estrella’s bed and hugged the younger woman. “I’m so glad to see you’re okay.”
“More or less,” Estrella said.
When Misty pulled away, she was sad to see that although the girl was smiling, it didn’t reach her eyes. Misty stroked Estrella’s dark hair. “I swear, if I ever come face to face with the monster who hurt you, I’m going to cut him to pieces.”
The whole room became silent.
She colored.
“War freak?” Alessandro, one of Domenico’s younger brothers, finally asked. “The Faeries, the gentlest race of all, turned you into a war freak?”
Everyone burst into laughter.
Misty made a face. “Hahaha.”
“Seriously, what happened?” Alejandro, twin to Alessandro, asked.
She beamed proudly. “I’m now a Level 2 swordswoman!”
The twins whistled in appreciation.
“Really?” Emilia, the baby of the Moretti family, gasped.
Esmeralda interrupted, “But don’t you have to be, like, graceful to do that?”
Misty’s eyes narrowed. “Are you implying something?”
Everyone became silent again.
“Well…” Esmeralda hedged, and the whole room erupted into laughter once more.
The door opened and Domenico came walking in, and the room fell silent for the third time. Try as she might, Misty couldn’t stop staring at him. He had changed into a white cotton sweater, sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal his muscular arms. His tan-colored corduroy slacks had a semi-loose fit, like his sweater, but even so they failed to detract from Domenico’s sheer sexiness.