Page 108 of This Witch Is Not Wicked

“It’s over, isn’t it?” Ambrose asked, sadness filling his eyes.

I nodded.

“Because of him?” Ambrose pointed up toward the loft.

“Yes,” I said honestly. “And no.”

He raised a brow.

“You never truly wanted me, Ambrose. And it’s okay to admit that. We used each other’s bodies, and that was it. You needed me and I needed you, and I’m glad I had you all these years. I probably would’ve left for the Otherworld years ago had it not been for your visits.”

He shoved a hand through his blue hair, jaw locking. He really was so beautiful. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.”

“What way?”

“Like I didn’t want you. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you were just a means to an end. I’m not great at this.”

I snorted. “Neither am I, but I’m learning.” My gaze flicked up toward the loft, and I thought about just an hour earlier when Nevan had been kissing his way up my body, murmuring how much he loved me. All of me.

“You love him.” Ambrose sounded surprised.

“I do,” I said.

It was that simple, and I wasn’t afraid to admit it, not anymore. I wasn’t afraid to admit that I wanted him, that I wanted a life with him. Mostly, I wasn’t afraid to dream of that life together.

“Wow.” Ambrose’s gaze flitted to my amulet. “Does he know about you?”

I nodded. “He found out. Or I told him.”

The faery sat on the arm of the couch, staring in awe. “I never thought you’d admit your identity to anyone.”

“I didn’t either.”

“So what’s the plan? Are you going to let your magic drain and become human? What about your people in the Otherworld?”

“They’re not my people,” I said, words sharper than I intended. “They were never my people, Ambrose. For the same reason the Fair Folk were never my people. They didn’t accept me either.”

“And these people do?”

I thought of Nevan, Fiona, and the book club, whom I’d admitted my identity to this week. Like Fiona, Margaret hadn’t been surprised. The rest had been varying degrees of shock and had a lot of questions, but no one had been angry. No one had threatened to kick me out or turn me in. I’d reveal it to the rest of the town in my own time.

“Yes,” I said. “They do. It’s a town of misfits. I fit right in.”

He smiled, but it was a sad smile that made a pang shoot through me. “So it’s over. It’s really over.”

“You can still visit.”

He cocked a brow. “Would Nevan be into that?”

I rolled my eyes. “As a friend.”

“Ah.” He stood. “I’m not great at friendship.”

“We can learn together.”

“Maybe,” he said.

The front door burst open, Fiona standing there, moonlight haloing her. “I think we can make a new cross species of plants using the germanias and—” She stopped as she walked farther into the cottage, her gaze widening as she took in Ambrose.