I forced myself to stop. When we’d met, I’d hummed childhood lullabies to self-soothe. I didn’t do it much anymore. Didn’t need to. Not surprising an old coping strategy would crop up again.
“You know I love you, right?” He leaned in. Instead of kissing me, he rubbed his nose gently against mine. “You’re everything to me, wizard.”
And like that, all the tension left my body. I sagged into him, enjoying this rare moment of quiet. He pulled me closer and just held on.
He backed toward our bedroom, tugging me along. I couldn’t agree more. I needed to feel his hands on me, his kisses heating my skin, his love burning me from the inside out.
We hadn’t even reached the bedroom when someone rapped on our door. Twig paused, considering, and I pressed myself against him.
“We could ignore them.” I sounded ridiculously hopeful.
His shoulders slumped for the barest second, before his spine straightened. “The sooner we face your past, the sooner we can return to our future.”
Ugh, why did he have to be so, so reasonable right now? That was my job. And I wasn’t interested in being reasonable at the moment. I wanted to take time out to pleasure my familiar until his toes curled and he shouted my name for the whole citadel to hear.
But he was right. Avoidance would only keep us in this Goddess-forsaken realm.
“Fine.” This better be worth it.
He strode toward the entryway with me still in tow. He glared at the door like it offended him. Sighing, he pulled me close for a quick hug.
We both groaned. Had we pissed off some second-rate Goddess, and as revenge, she took every opportunity to cockblock us? I didn’t even believe in the Goddesses, though it sure seemed as if something had it in for us.
Twig gripped the door handle like he would strangle it and yanked it open. Rei Le Torneau carrying a tiny dog in her arms, and four burly men with the Council’s crest blazing across their lavender tunics, loomed in the entryway.
“May I come in?” Le Torneau’s haughty expression and ramrod-straight posture spoke tomes about her discomfort. She also failed to issue any formal greetings. In a way, that made things easier. The less pretense, the better. The dog growled. Must be her familiar.
I inclined my head slightly, trying not to laugh. “Of course.”
Two of the bulky guards—looking like children playing dress up next to Twig—moved to enter first, and Twig stuck out his hand, claws suddenly tipping his fingers, to halt their progress. “My mate didn’t grant you entrance. Only the Rei.”
He might have put a little extra growl in his voice. Shivers raced down my spine and he smirked, knowing me too well.
I’ll eat you up later, wizard.
Pervert, I shot back.
You love it. His laughter echoed in my head, so at odds with his scowl and menacing body language.
“These men are my protection,” the Rei snapped, refocusing our attention.
“Protection from whom?” I raised an eyebrow. “Surely, not from myself, nor CCM Starfig?”
“I feel like I need to be protected from those uniforms,” Twig added.
He wasn’t wrong. Sleeveless purple tunics, with matching ankle-banded trousers that puffed at the knee, along with curly-toed low boots made them look more silly than fierce. Even their weapons appeared more ceremonial than practical, the curved single-edged blades shined to a high sheen but not looking particularly sharp, and the overly ornate handles that seemed like they’d be hard to hold in a battle.
Le Torneau’s mouth opened, then snapped closed. Anger, disgust, and bitterness all flashed across her pale face. Not very politically savvy.
We waited while she schooled her features into some semblance of pleasantness. Well, neutrality, at least. She still looked like she had sucked on a brined jackalope lemon. It would have to do.
“It’s protocol for a security detail to accompany a rei,” she finally managed, her tone frosty but passing for polite. Barely.
“Ah, protocol, you say? Yet aren’t we all friends here?” Twig smiled, purposely letting his fangs drop. “I think we can agree that I can protect your person better than your . . . little warriors.”
The men stiffened though they didn’t reach for their weapons. At least they were moderately well trained. Twig instigated. It’s what he excelled at and enjoyed. However, the moment they posed any real threat to me, he wouldn’t hesitate to put them down. One thing I’d learned—and had to accept—about my mate: he didn’t mess around with my safety, even if it meant causing an inter-realm incident. Even when I could handle it on my own.
“As you say.” Rei Le Torneau exhaled heavily, her exasperation obvious. Without looking at her protectors, she added, “Wait outside. I won’t be long.”
Before her security detail could raise a complaint, she crossed our threshold and strode toward the sitting room as if she was the mistress of the castle. And in a way she was.
Twig took a little too much delight in giving the guards a finger wave, then slamming the door in their aggrieved faces.
Mature? No. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me smile. We moved to join Le Torneau. She perched on the edge of our divan like it would attack at any moment, her tiny familiar growling at us from her lap. I almost told her to watch out for the wet spot, but I could be mature. I did have some filter, unlike my familiar who opened his mouth intending to say just that. I elbowed him and could see the gleam in his eye.
At least one of us seemed to be enjoying this trip.
Twig hefted a heavily inlaid chair with a velvet cushion and set it across from the rei, gesturing for me to sit. I figured he’d grab one for himself, too. Instead, he loomed behind me. I didn’t have to read his mind or emotions to know how he felt toward her.
“What can we do for you, Rei Le Torneau?” Obviously she wanted something. I kept my body relaxed, even though I expected this conversation to be unpleasant.
“This discussion pains me, though someone needs to talk over the matter with you.” Her hands bunched her long skirt, wrinkling the delicate fabric.
“And that would be?” I tried my best to sound patient, though I struggled.
“It’s best if we have this discussion in private.” Her eyes flickered toward Twig then back to me.
Yeah, right. No way. “Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of CCM Starfig. He’s my familiar and my mate, after all.”
She winced.
I didn’t roll my eyes but came close. Get over it already.
“Have you noticed . . .” She leaned forward slightly, then huffed. “A, shall we say, certain level of interest in you among the witch community?”
“Are you asking whether we could miss my mate being ogled by every witch we met?” Twig sounded amused, though a thread of menace hovered under the surface. “I hadn’t realized witches were such an amorous bunch. Though they have good taste, obviously.” He squeezed my shoulders.
“CCM Starfig means, yes, we’ve noticed.” I even kept a straight face as I said it.
“It’s not because they like you,” she snapped with more venom than was probably wise, with my shortening temper. A low growl rumbled in Twig’s chest, and I reached back and patted his hand.
“Really? And you’re here to enlighten us, I assume?” I didn’t hide my impatience well, though I managed not to fidget.
“Haven’t you figured it out? No, of course you haven’t.” She glared like I’d killed her familiar.
“Rei Le Torneau, CCM Starfig and I have a busy day planned”—we didn’t—“so if you have something to say, I would appreciate if you’d get on with it.”
“They all want to strengthen their houses, obviously.” She crossed her thin arms over her chest. “They hope you’ll choose them, so they can add your magic potential to their own. Even though yours seems especially weak, it’s better than nothing.”
“Add my magic potential?”
“By producing offspring.” She spoke the words like we were
slow. And I guess we were.
I blinked, felt Twig’s hands tighten on my shoulders.
“He’s not interested in strengthening anyone’s house but ours.” Twig’s dragon surged forward. I didn’t need to turn around to know his skin would be rippling. His damn dragon became more and more difficult to control the longer we put off the mating ceremony.
Rei Le Torneau’s eyes widened and she paled even further, her familiar whining and trying to burrow behind her on the divan. I reached back and clasped Twig’s wrist.
“Settle,” I said, in the most authoritative tone I possessed. I hated using my status as his wizard to control him, yet we couldn’t have a full-blown dragon fill the suite either. Talk about an inter-realm incident.
His dragon grumbled in my head but obeyed. Barely.
I sent a serene smile Le Torneau’s way, while squeezing Twig’s wrist again. “As you can see, I have no interest in anyone’s house but my own. You might want to pass the word along to save embarrassment.”
“They’ll merely resort to love potions or other means.” Le Torneau’s voice had gentled significantly. She had some sense of self preservation, I guess.
I kept my hand wrapped around Twig’s wrist. Just in case.
“That’s illegal. And extremely ill advised.” I felt stupid even saying it, though I didn’t want any misunderstanding of my feelings—or Twig’s—on this matter.
Le Torneau laughed, a raspy, unpleasant sound. “You think they’ll care? It’s not like you have any virtue left after being indentured to an ungoddessly creature, so I daresay they won’t lose sleep over an illegal potion or two. Not with all they have to gain.”
“Watch your foul mouth, witch,” Twig snarled. “You know nothing of what you speak.” Twig’s fury flooded our link. That his dragon didn’t try to surge forward again was a testament to the tight rein he had to be using to hold it back.
“We’re done here.” I began to rise. Twig’s rage dampened my own. She’d warned us and we’d be careful to avoid potions and spells. We’d faced worse.
“Wait! I have a solution.” Le Torneau gripped her skirt so tight she looked as though she would rend the delicate fabric from her skeletal frame.
“To which problem, pray tell? My inconvenient existence? Or the deceitful users of love potions?” I paused, resettled myself. We’d finally reached the point of her visit.
“You’re a destabilizing force. Surely, you must see that.”
“Am I, indeed?” That acknowledgment pleased me. Fed that part of me still so angry with what they’d done.
“If you allowed yourself to be sterilized, all of this would end.”
A necrolight could have landed in my lap and I would’ve just stared. Twig stayed equally silent.
Le Tourneau pressed, “I could make it virtually painless. It would ensure that no one bothers you with unwanted attention and it would keep the status quo intact.” She nodded like this was a satisfactory outcome. “It’s not like you can breed your . . .” She waved her hand in Twig’s direction.
Before Twig could hurtle the chair and rend her head from her body, I shot to my feet, placing myself between them, one arm outstretched to keep Twig at bay. “Time for you to leave. This conversation has been most . . . surreal.”
“Fucked up, you mean, wizard.” Smoke curled from Twig’s nostrils and the chairback creaked from his grip.
“Yes, well—” I agreed.
“But my solution—”
“Is never gonna happen,” Twig bit out. “Haven’t you witches taken enough from him? Have you no shame?”
“Twig—”
“Quinn’s no longer from this realm, nor is he under any obligation to take your advice to heart. If he decided to destroy the Council and every brick of this citadel, it would happen in an instant.”
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” Le Torneau blustered. “I come from the House of—”
“Courvoisier. Do you think a Starfig wouldn’t know his enemies? Or the child of Maylanth, the Taker of Life?” He scoffed. “Your pathetic house is not even as old as my father. Would you like to see it crumble? Insult my wizard one more time, and I promise you, I’ll see it done. I won’t even break a sweat.” He snapped his fingers.
Le Torneau seemed to shrink before our eyes, even as her face remained unrepentant. “You’re both abominations. If the High Rei wasn’t such an idealist, she would see it, too. You and your freakish familiar belong in prison, not on the Council.”
I sucked in a harsh breath.
Twig spat out, “Try it, witch!” he roared. His dragon surged forward again, his pupils changing to slits, as smoke poured from his mouth and nose.
A crash came from the entryway, but I only had seconds before his shift would be inevitable. Focusing only on Twig, I gripped his face. “It’s okay, sweetheart. She’s not worth it. That’s it, get control. I’m fine. Shh, I’m fine.” I held eye contact until his pupils switched back and I was certain he had control. Too close. We needed to officially mate. Soon.
Stepping back, I nodded toward the entryway. “That’s two ruined doors in two days. That has to be a record, right, dragon?”
Le Torneau’s jaw firmed as she raised her hand. Would she really order the men to attack us? Or do it herself?
“If you try, that would be your last order,” I snapped, all humor gone. “We’d be all too pleased to demonstrate what we’re capable of. Show yourselves out. Don’t return.”
Any spell she threw our way Twig could deflect. Since very few harmful spells could so much as inconvenience Twig, she’d get a nasty surprise when her spells rebounded.
A moment later, she cast a withering glare in our direction, scooped up her yipping familiar, then stormed from the suite, her guards following.
“Send someone to fix the entryway,” Twig called out. “You witches sure have something against doors. And you never know when Quinn and I will get busy. We dragons are randy fuckers.”
9
Amazingly—or perhaps not so surprising, after Twig’s joke—palace workers hurriedly replaced our door. Did they have a storeroom just for doors? I suspected only we had this issue, but I didn’t want to assume.
Leaning back into the divan cushions, I scribbled a to-do list on a blank scroll. The crisp smell of the parchment soothed me the way candles or incense did for others.
I hadn’t known what to expect returning to the Hominus. It hadn’t occurred to me anyone would view me as a legitimate threat. I mean, sure, I was the first wizard in a thousand years, but for most of my life, I’d been a regular guy. It’s not like I came blazing back in a hailstorm of fireballs and tried to start trouble. They demanded I come back. I was fine to never set foot in this Goddess-forsaken realm again. Yet, they called, and I came.
“I’m sorry,” Twig said, once we were alone.
“For what?” I looked up from my list.
“I know you hate it when I rush in to defend you.”
I couldn’t deny that Twig’s overprotectiveness often stood as a bone of contention between us. His responses were always fast and visceral, while I needed time to sift through my thoughts and emotions.
“I’m not upset with you. You were having trouble controlling your dragon and I can’t fault you for that. Not since I’m the one holding up the mating.”
Twig gazed at me fondly, when he finally exhaled forcefully. “I thought you might be angry.”
“Just try your best to let me defend myself. I know it goes against the grain, yet I really can handle a few piddly insults.”
“You shouldn’t have to. Especially when you don’t want to use your magic.”
I shrugged. I hadn’t expected any different and, if anything, it made it easier to turn down Hallewell’s offer.
“Le Torneau’s under the mistaken impression that you possess a weak strain of magic.” Twig paced the sitting room as though he could dispel her presence by sheer force.
“I tested weak during my trials. No surpris
e there. I’d been told by several professoras that if I possessed magic, it probably wouldn’t amount to much. So, no dreams of grandeur or anything. I just hoped I’d have enough to qualify as a wizard.”
“You aren’t weak. You know that, right?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s hard to know how strong or weak I am without going through all the tests again. I’m probably average to a bit above. Not sure why I tested so low the first time. It might have to do with not having a dragon present so my magic would have something to resonate with. At least that’s my theory.”
Before we could think more on this, several wide-eyed staff showed up carrying a sizable meal on silver platters. Our reputation preceded us, it seemed.
The staff laid the food out on the dining room table—which Twig had righted the other night after our failed tryst—before scurrying from the room as if we planned to chase them down.
“You can’t eat this,” Twig said when we were finally alone. “I don’t trust it.”
“We have to eat.” But he was right. I didn’t want to accidentally ingest a love potion or other such nonsense. My stomach protested with a big growl.
“We’ll stop at a kiosk on the way to the archives. You’re still planning to go to there today?”
“That’s the plan. The sooner I know about our mating, the sooner we can hit the portal for home.”
“Not tempted to see what the High Rei’s offer entails?” Twig said it lightly, though the question touched on the serious nature of our situation.
“Why would I care?”
“You’d be a leader among your people. You wouldn’t depend on me for your status.”
“True.”
Twig knew how much I wanted to stand on my own two feet.
“Except then you’d be dependent on mine.” And he’d hate that. He’d already given up so much for me.
“I’m not unwilling—”
I held up a quelling hand. “And I appreciate that, dragon. More than you can possibly know. That’s what makes this choice so easy.”
“What about your family? Have you decided whether you want to see them?”
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