Instead of kissing me, he rolled me on top of him and just held on. I shivered. When he placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head, I broke. I sobbed like I hadn’t since my first days being a slave. Seeing my parents, knowing I remained only a tool to them, hurt. Even now. Knowing that I’d have to make a hard choice about mating with Twig felt like death by a thousand cuts . . . with a broadsword.
Twig made soft cooing sounds, a low rumble in his chest that could pass for a gentle purr. I cried until there were no more tears. It took a while. Twig didn’t seem to mind. Holding me, while I put myself back together, piece by piece.
“I-I’m sorry.” I sniffled, swiping at my puffy eyes. “I rarely fall apart like that.”
“No, I’m sorry, wizard. I didn’t truly understand how awful being here would be for you. We shouldn’t have come.”
“We needed answers, and I needed closure.”
Twig tsked, tracing a finger over my shoulder and the tattoos I sported. “Do you have either?”
“According to the Unodarin’s Compendium, if we mate, I’ll lose my magic. That’s not a fluke. It’s a fact.” Kaboom. I could almost hear our relationship blowing up about us. A crippling stab of pain moved through our link. I tensed, clenching my fists until my knuckles whitened. As quickly as it came, it receded.
“You’re still my mate, whether or not we make it official.” Twig’s voice rang with certainty, fierce in his assertion.
“Your dragon won’t accept that.”
“I’ll worry about my dragon.”
“Twig—”
“We’ll figure it out.”
“There’s nothing to figure out—”
“Stop.” Twig rolled us until I rested on my back and he loomed over me. It could have felt claustrophobic, but he made me feel safe. “I know this trip has been brutal, but you aren’t alone. You’ll never be alone. If we can’t mate, I’ll convince my dragon that our current bond is enough. And you don’t know. You might find a way around this. Just because it happened to one witch doesn’t mean we couldn’t discover another way.”
“You sound like Beckett.”
“I knew that girl was good people. You should listen to her. If we need to stay until we find a solution, we will. If you think we’re better off going home, we can be out in fifteen minutes.”
I wiped at my face again. “I need to make things right with Zak first.”
Twig nodded in agreement. “That kid’s angry. I’m guessing his life hasn’t been a barrel of laughs. He could use someone in his corner.”
“He looks so much like me at that age.”
“I figured.”
“I never got his letters.”
“I know.”
“I feel terrible for not contacting him sooner. Mortimer’s right—”
“Don’t let that son of a banshee get in your head. He’s eaten alive with jealousy. He chose to stew in that poisonous brew. Don’t join him drinking it.”
I ran a finger over Twig’s jaw. “How’d you get so wise?”
He chortled. “I know what it’s like to deal with noxious brothers. Or in my case, half-brother.”
“I suppose Mortimer hasn’t actually tried to kill me, so there’s that.”
“Yeah, I don’t recommend the experience.”
Since Twig’s half-brother, Nyx, had almost succeeded in killing both of us, I knew that firsthand.
I stroked his face. “I want to offer you everything. You deserve a mate who—”
“I’ve got the mate I want. Do I want to seal the bond? Of course. But not at the expense of your magic. We’ll figure something out. I promise.” He interlinked our fingers, kissed the back of my hand.
I felt both the pain and the determination through our link. We’d made it this far, and I had to trust that we’d find a way through this, too. He was right. I prided myself on being more optimistic than this.
I owed it to Twig to find an answer that we could both live with.
I leaned in and kissed him, my eyelids closing as our mouths met. He gently broke the kiss, and my eyes stayed shut, my mind drifting in a safe place existing for just the two of us.
“Nap a bit. I’ll get us something to eat, and we’ll have a quiet night in.”
“I don’t need to sleep,” I slurred, trying—and failing—to open my lids. I felt him rise and wanted to reach for him. My limbs weren’t obeying. The last thing I heard before sliding into sleep was a quiet knock at the door.
When I woke, the room was pitch black. For a moment, I froze, trying to remember where I lay. Voices came from the other room. Twig snickered, and an indignant grunt came from someone else. Who was here?
Sitting up, I called light into my palm. The light twined around my fingers before curling into a sphere. I set it on the side table as I scrambled to look for something to wear. Twig’s dad chose sensuous fabrics, but the outfits were difficult to put on or take off. Fortunately, I’d packed a couple of well-worn tunics and leggings.
Slipping from the room, I halted in my tracks. Twig and Zak sat at the dining table eating a mountain of meat pies while playing cards.
“How do you do that?” Zak groused. He threw his cards into a pile. “You shouldn’t be able to win—”
“You mean because you’re cheating outrageously?” Twig asked with a toothy grin.
“I didn’t cheat.” My little brother sat up straight, then snickered. “Much.”
“Kid, I haven’t seen such cheating since I played a hand of Qwikskor with a nasty little fae named Rainbowpebbles.”
“Fae cheat at cards?” Zak’s voice held more than a hint of awe. He stuffed half a meat pie into his mouth in one go. A rush of fondness filled my chest. I’d had so little time to get to know him, but as I silently watched, my long-buried feelings for him emerged. Images of Zak stuffing sweets in his cheek. Tagging along while I helped my grandmother in her lab. His lopsided smile and high-pitched giggle. Memories I’d locked away.
“This one sure did. And your brother tried to put himself up as collateral.”
“What? Why would he do that?” Zak chewed, his voice muffled.
“So, we were tasked with retrieving a unicorn horn—”
I cleared my throat. No way this story reached the realms of appropriate for my little brother. Both Twig and Zak turned guilty gazes my way. Zak’s face changed from engaged to wary in the blink of an eye.
“How are you feeling?” Twig rose and closed the distance between us. I could almost physically feel his love surround me. He had to be doing it on purpose, pushing those feelings through our link.
“Better, thanks.” I rubbed at my eyes, wiping away the last remnants of sleep. “I thought maybe you were talking to Pie.”
“Nah, he’ll be carousing all night. He’d already found a pirate tavern and was singing bawdy songs when I left him.”
Of course he was. “Please tell me you’re not teaching my little brother how to cheat at cards.”
“I’m not teaching Zak to cheat.” Twig shook his head. “Kid does it fine on his own.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Zak snapped. “You lost that right a long time ago.”
“Zak, I told you, I never received your letters.” I ran a hand through my hair to tame it. It stuck up like I’d touched a three-legged lightning howler. “Can’t you give me the benefit of the doubt? I spent those years with no contact with friends or family, and believe me, I would have murdered a minotaur to get my hands on a letter from home.”
“Yeah, sure. All’s forgiven.” His eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his slim chest. He hadn’t finished filling out, though I could see the man he’d soon become. Despite his stubborn stance, he came back, so maybe he wanted to believe me.
I massaged the stress line embedded between my eyes. “Did our grandmother give you that amulet?” I nodded toward the yellow stone around his neck.
He gripped the necklace in a tight fist. “Changing subjects?”
I gritted my
teeth, determined not to pick a fight with him. “Just curious. I used to have one in blue. She gave it to me for my eighth birthday.”
“I don’t remember when she gave me mine. Younger than that.” Zak hunched, didn’t meet my eyes. “I miss her. She at least cared about me.”
I clenched my fists before forcing myself to relax. One of us needed to be calm. “Look, I’m sorry, Zak. I didn’t want to leave you. I don’t know what you were told, but if I could have stayed, I would have.”
Had he figured out that I’d been a bed slave? He acted tough, though at his age, so did I, and yet I knew nothing about the world.
“What time is it?” I asked Twig. “Does anyone know where you are, Zak?”
He scoffed. “They’re not expecting me.”
My turn to narrow my eyes. “Why not?”
“Stop acting like you care. It’s weird.” Zak hopped up as if about to sprint out the door again. He rubbed at his arms, his feet shifting with nervous energy.
“Kid, knock it off,” Twig’s voice came out on a growl. “I get that you’re angry, but you’re blaming the wrong person. He’s been through things you can’t imagine.”
Though Zak’s eyes grew round from Twig’s tone, his chin firmed, and he said, “I doubt that. I have a pretty good imagination. And I’m not a kid.”
“He’s definitely your brother.” Twig sighed. I swore I heard him mumble, “Damn stubborn pains-in-the-ass.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” I sniffed. It would have been more effective if Zak and I weren’t mirror images, both with our arms crossed and chins tilted at the same obstinate angle. Or jaunty, as I liked to think of it. Whatever. “Anyhow, I’d still like to know why it’s—” I looked around not seeing anything to indicate the time, “—late, but you’re not home. And you never answered me. Do they know you’re here?”
“Don’t call that place home! I hardly ever stay there. As long as I give them a few dyparis each month, they don’t care where I am.” Zak’s jaw worked, and his shoulders tensed. What in the bloody blue moons?
“Let me get this straight, you don’t live with our . . . parents.”
He snorted. “I can see why you paused. No, Quinnie, after you left, a lot of their markers got called in. See, they’d been trading on your name pretty much forever, and the neighbors were giddy when they stopped being able to lord your status over everyone. After that, they insisted I get a job and help pay off their debts. They keep spending, so I keep working. I still leave a few things there, though mostly I sleep at work now. Satisfied?”
I frowned. “What kind of job?” Not enough muscle to be working on the docks, and there weren’t a lot of other kinds of legal jobs in the area for a teenager. Was he . . .
“Chill your roll. I work in a tavern.”
“Near the docks?”
“Well, duh. You got a problem with that?”
I should have backed off, but after my years with Brandsome, I understood exactly what those places were like. The thought of Zak working in one made me want to take a bite out of someone’s hide. I closed the distance between us though I didn’t touch him since he still looked like he’d bolt at any second.
“Spells and curses, of course I have a problem with it, Zak! You need to quit. I’ll pay for your schooling and a safe place for you to live.” I glanced at Twig. He nodded.
“Trying to knight-in-shining-armor your way back into my life? Uh, no, thanks. I can make my own way. I’ve been doing it for years.” He took a step backward. “And ‘spells and curses,’ Quinn? Really? You know you can just say ‘hellafuck.’ The Goddesses won’t strike you dead.”
Twig snickered.
I glared at him. “Not helping, dragon.”
“Sorry, wizard, but you two are ridiculous.”
We both turned on Twig. The obnoxious dragon snickered again. Did he have a death wish?
“Fuck you—” Zak spat.
“There’s always the divan—” I glared.
He guffawed, gripped his sides. “Kid, you’ve given me an insight into what teenaged Quinn must have been like. Demon dicks, I’m glad I didn’t meet him then. I might have eaten him.”
“Oh, ha ha.” I rolled my eyes at the same time my little brother did. Okay, Twig might have a point. I wasn’t grateful for it.
“So, here’s what I think.” Twig tapped his temple. “Zak, stay here tonight. We have a comfy divan. In the morning, we can all have breakfast and talk over your situation like adults. I get that you don’t want to take Quinn’s help, but sometimes we all need a little support. Over breakfast, I’ll tell you about getting thrown out of my clan at fifteen and making a run for it. Good times.”
“You were tossed out of your clan?” Zak’s face transformed back into star-struck awe, all his posturing falling away. He looked so young. And vulnerable.
Twig was right. I’d approached this the wrong way. My protective instincts warred with my understanding that I didn’t have a right to force my way into his life. If he worked at a tavern in the harbor, he’d seen more than I had at his age. His anger made a lot more sense now.
“Twig’s right. Why don’t you stay the night?”
Zak seemed to think this over. “One condition. No lecturing.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He sighed. “That’s your way of saying you’ll do it, but you’ll feel bad about it.”
Twig sniggered. “I like this kid. Maybe I wouldn’t have eaten you after all, wizard.”
14
I awoke alone. Again. I’d tossed and turned thinking about what to say to Zak come morning. I had no idea our parents had forced him out of school to work in a tavern. I wanted to roast them. But shouldn’t I have expected it? Who did Zak have to look out for him? Not Mortimer.
Laughter rang out from the other room, and the aroma of fresh lava java called to me. Domestic mornings were some of my favorite times, and something I still didn’t take for granted. They usually involved waking with my mate beside me and—when we weren’t being interrupted by a certain annoying red fury—a little fun in the pelts. Damn the lack of opportunity. Sexual frustration made me ache. Even so, I just wanted to lounge in bed with Twig, whether or not we did anything else.
Preferably with sex, though I’d take what I could get.
From the other room, my brother gasped then belly laughed. What story did Twig regale him with now? And was that Cora’s giggle? I groaned. I should get out there. Twig knew too many of my embarrassing moments and would relish an eager audience.
After dressing for the day—with all the ties, frills, and layers—I followed my nose toward the java.
Twig, Zak, Cora, and Pie all lounged around the ironwood table. Pie was amusing them with yarns about our time in the Expanse. So much for hiding his pirate roots. He shared a comical tale about when the Dishonorable Princess sailed up to us in the desert. Pie, the only crew, eventually persuaded us to stop scrambling across sand dunes and come on board, which turned out to be a lucky break. Twig’s decrepit magic carpet had bit the dust and left us stranded. Good times.
Twig saw me first and pointed to a steaming cup of lava java next to him. He knew me so well. I sidled up to the cup, but before I grabbed it, he tugged me down onto his lap. I wasn’t a small guy—for a human, I mean—though Twig stood easily a foot taller and much, much broader. He didn’t wear his finery today. Instead, he had donned a simple black tunic and trousers that hugged his body like a second skin and made me want to lick him like a popsicle. A very rakish popsicle.
Zak rolled his eyes, while Cora winked. Ignoring them, I settled in and gulped down the brew as if it were the last cup in the Hominus.
I sighed. “So good. Is this from your land, Cora?”
“Yes! Mom always sends me a fresh supply of our premium brand every few months. I usually hoard it, but with you here, it’s the perfect time to share.”
“May the Goddesses grant you a long life.” I grinned.
“You don’t even belie
ve in the Goddesses,” Zak protested.
“I can still be polite. If you didn’t notice, she did bring me the best lava java in the land.”
Zak scoffed. “Lava java’s gross.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Twig shook his head. “I am so very, very disappointed.”
“A Broomsparkle who doesn’t like good java? Who would think I’d ever see the day?” Cora chuckled, absently petting Mink-the-Merciless on her shoulder. “At Befsarry, whenever my mom would send a care package, Quinn-the-Mooch always gave me his sad eyes. He drank more of the stuff than I did.”
“It worked.” I blew her a kiss.
Mink slunk down Cora’s shoulder and onto the tabletop. She chittered, then ran to Zak, and chittered again.
“Hey there, little cutie.” Zak put out his hand so she could sniff his fingers. He smiled. So sweet and soft. The ferret seemed to agree since she scuttled up his arm and wrapped around his bicep, chittering away like they were having a conversation.
“Whoa,” Cora said. “She never does that with anyone.”
Zak leaned toward Cora, a crooked grin on his face. “Animals like me.”
“Aww, aren’t you cute?” Cora ruffled Zak’s hair and he sputtered. He wasn’t angling for cute. It didn’t help that he’d borrowed some of my clothes, and so looked even more like me. Cora’s feelings toward me were strictly familial. I coughed into my hand to keep from laughing.
“A more wounded heart has yet to be seen in these times,” Pie quipped, when Zak’s face fell. Pie’s breath reeked of stale ale and hard living, and I tried not to breathe it in. Pirates, sheesh.
“Duty calls, though I hope you and I can spend a little time together this afternoon.” Cora rose and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “We can hang out, then the Council of Divine Magic has requested your presence at a Communion of Pythos.”
“What’s that?” Twig asked as he shifted me on his lap, subtly moving me away from Cora.
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