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that Floarea had immediately seen who and what Gwen was, and seemed to accept without question that the anchor of magic was sitting at her table about to eat a meal with her. “Our ancestry is really your ancestry. The same magic that ran through Guibran also ran through you, as it now runs through me, through Tink, and Harmen—my brother—through many of us.” Floarea nodded to those around her, and Gideon wondered how many of them were from the Mirga family line.
    Gwen smiled, but there was something behind it that told Gideon she wasn’t entirely comforted by Floarea’s explanation. He remembered talks they’d had centuries before during her first visit to this realm. She’d wanted to be a part of something, wanted to belong. To have family. A last name. Floarea was right about Gwen having history, and he wondered for the first time if she knew where she came from. He needed to remember to tell her how she became the anchor in the first place.
    ***
    The evening gave way to night as they filled their stomachs with good food and drink. Gideon hadn’t intended to stay when the dancing began, but he found himself surrounded by nearly every witch and warlock in the encampment as music swept them away on the dance floor. He’d had no shortage of offers to dance from the bold women of the Komolvo camp, but he felt he had to keep Gwen close. Without him, she was completely vulnerable to anyone who wished to harm her. Much as he wanted her to complete her task so she could leave, he wouldn’t put her in danger.
    He wasn’t sure how it happened. He’d been so sure to hold her at arm’s length. But Gwen began to work her way back into his heart. She was different than he remembered, and yet the same. This Gwen was naïve, but that probably came from her lack of memory of the last time she was here. She didn’t seem to know how powerful she really was. How brave she was. He had watched her throw herself into harm’s way to save magic two hundred years ago despite not having magic of her own, and he had no doubt she’d do so again today if need be.
    Other things about her were so familiar they made him ache. Her smile, or the way she pushed her curls from her eyes. The way she wanted to be everyone’s friend. Her laugh. All of it made him want to go back in time. To be able to hold her again. To love her again without the pain of her betrayal between them.
    Without conscious thought, Gwen was suddenly in his arms, her body pressed to his as they moved with the music, and she felt so right. So damned good, he wanted to lose himself in her.
    She smelled incredible. As he lowered his head to kiss her lips, it was as though he’d come home. As though the last two hundred years of aching for her, of hurt and anger, had never happened. It was washed away in her arms, her kiss.
    Part of Gideon knew this wasn’t right. There seemed to be a fog building around his brain, and he couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t stop what was happening. But he should stop it. That much he still knew.
    Gwen was kissing him back, reaching up to his shoulders to pull him in, her scent surrounding him in a spell he was utterly lost in. They swirled on the dance floor, the faces of the others lost around them. But no, that wasn’t entirely true. Two faces kept reappearing amidst the swirling dancers. Tink and Minerva’s. Only they weren’t dancing. They were watching. Watching him.
    Anger tore through Gideon as he felt the spell swallow them, as he realized they’d been enchanted somehow when he hadn’t been expecting it. He’d somehow let down his guard. He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, throwing off the spell with a roar.
    Gwen stared at him in shock, but he didn’t offer an explanation as his eyes sought out Tink and Minerva in the crowd. Their faces were the only ones he’d been able to see clearly during the spell. That had to mean something. But they were gone, and all around them, the gypsies danced as though nothing