Gravebriar

by Casey L. Bond

If our secrets ever spilled, everyone would discover that my coven, the Gravebriar witches, were arguably the best liars of them all…

Lovely lies designed to cover unspeakable truths.

Some called it the jewel of Cauldron. Some called it the heart of the witch city. I called it home.

“Don’t apologize, Gravebriar. I give you full permission to accost me whenever you’d like.”

“I noticed you, Gravebriar. He was no more than an accessory on your arm.”

Sometimes letting someone go because it was best for them was the most difficult thing in the world.

“I was a gentleman while you got settled. You, on the other hand, are incorrigible, Gravebriar. Staring at me so.”

“You wound me, Gravebriar. You wound

me deeply.”

“Because those few minutes showed me your heart, and every moment since has reinforced what I learned of you then.” He brought his hand up and brushed his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “Candy.”

“Your heart is golden,”

“And yours? What’s yours made of?” I teased with a grin. “Titanium,” he answered, his tone strange and flat. I wasn’t sure if he truly believed it or if he merely wanted it to be true. “So it’s impenetrable?” “Nearly,” he said almost curiously. “But apparently not entirely.”

“I don’t worry for my reputation, Gravebriar. Feel free to scandalize me,”

“What if I told you that I more than liked you? What if I said I care about you? That I worry for you and not just myself anymore. What if I told you I have no idea how you’ve done it in just a matter of days, but

you’re all I can think about?”

“I’m with you,” I promised. “No matter what happens…” he led. “No matter what.”

There will never be a day, year, or lifetime long enough to spend with you, Castor Gravebriar.