Rebel Warlock's Wizard Mate: M/M Gay Fantasy Romance

by J B Black

  “I’m so sorry,” William whispered. “I wish — fuck, Ælfweard — I wish we were mates.”

  This only made Ælfweard hold tighter, aching and unsure as his heart screamed that they were, but fear held his tongue. If he told William of what be a one-sided bond, the warlock would only distance himself all the faster, and as painful as it was to be beside the man he loved while knowing he would never be with him, Ælfweard couldn’t bear the thought of William no longer being at his side. The week left to them felt too short. All too quickly, winter break would come, and when they returned, William would be in his own room. Separated and lost in more ways than one. Perhaps they would meet for meals and study hours, but that time would undoubtedly grow shorter and shorter until they graduated and never saw each other again.

  Clinging to William, Ælfweard swore he would overcome the grief inside. He refused to allow this to be the end. If he couldn’t spend the rest of his life with the warlock, Ælfweard ached to be a good memory. A friendship which his beloved recalled with fond affection even when years came and went between them talking.

  Despite his oath to himself, his heart lurched, rejecting the idea. Caught in the warlock’s arms, the blond never wanted to let go. Some mad part of him wondered if another kiss would clarify the disconnect between them. If he stole just one more, perhaps the spark would be shared between them. Just one more kiss. That might be all it took.

  But Ælfweard couldn’t. He didn’t dare push William. Not again. The warlock seemed untouched by the news, so he hadn’t wanted to be mates to begin with, and perhaps that realization wrecked the blond worse than the reality that they weren’t. If William longed for him in the same way, they might have a chance. Who knew when a fated mate would show up? Sure, most seemed to come earlier in life, but if William wanted him, there might have been a chance. Now, they had nothing.

  When Ælfweard fell asleep in his arms — exhaustion taking over his agony —, William had no idea what to do. The wizard clung to him. Feverishly, Ælfweard wrapped desperately around the warlock. Brows furrowed even in his sleep. Guilt kept him still. His hands ran through the soft blond locks. Everything inside him lurched, balancing between a queasy frustration and a hopeless hollowness. Loving Ælfweard came so simply. He was utterly beautiful, and holding back tears, William hated how cruel it was to see how much the wizard had set his heart upon him while knowing they didn’t belong together. That Ælfweard’s love came from infatuation, affirming everything that William believed and destroying the small piece of his heart which dreamed of a world sweet enough that they might be together.

  When Ælfweard woke, he lay in his bed alone, and the bed across from him stood empty. On his desk, tea and breakfast waited. The silence in the room which had only yesterday felt stifling seemed softer now. Though the urge remained to curl into his bed and bury his face in the blankets which the dark-haired man loaned him, he resisted. William wanted them to be friends. It hurt, but he could do that. A chance remained that placed him close to the man he loved, and if they were going to grow apart, he would do whatever he could to make the most of their time together.

  Quietly, he ate. With each bite, he focused on storing his desires in a box in his mind, shoving it away. He could do it. Bury the emotions so deep inside him that he could pretend the sentiment never had been there to begin with. Bit by bit, the wizard set aside the adoration he had for William’s stubbornness, his fondness for the warlock’s loyalty though hardwon, and his love for the pure life William brought to everything. Though his heart ached, he set aside his grief and put himself back together.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As if a switch had flipped, Ælfweard met William in the library with a bright smile. The wizard came prepared with study materials. They quietly shared the same space as the two of them reviewed material despite not needing to do so. Just his presence — out of bed and smiling again — gave the warlock hope. Perhaps they had turned the corner. Perhaps their friendship would survive.

  “You know, we’re both in the top position. We don’t have to spend the weekend studying,” William offered, trying to meet his roommate halfway. “Petra and Tilly are teleporting to Bath for the Christmas Market.”

  Humming slightly, Ælfweard asked, “Bath? Isn’t there one in Edinburgh?”

  “Apparently, they already went.”

  Ælfweard twiddled his pen, wiggling it back and forth as he met the warlock’s hopeful gaze. “What time are they going?”

  “Apparently, it’s magical after sunset,” William replied. “We could head out about four?”

  The wizard gave him a small smile. “Perfect. Then that gives us time to finish up organizing our notes for next semester.”

  Grinning, William continued sorting through his notes. After a week of worry, their friendship seemed back on track. Compared to the hours which dragged due to Ælfweard’s grief earlier in the week, the morning moved quickly, and they met Tilly and Petra in the main hall.

  With a bobble hat and a winter coat, Petra beamed down at her friend. Tilly wore a jacket which could have easily been used as a dress, narrowing at her small waist and flaring out. In heeled winter boots, she bounced with perfectly done make-up. Her excitement was infectious.

  “William!” Tilly called, waving. Her smile brightened when she saw Ælfweard beside him. “Oh, it’s almost like a double date,” she joked.

  Rolling her eyes, Petra snorted. “Wulfric and Gilroy are holed up and at it like rabbits, so it’ll just be us four.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think they’d waste any time on us,” William confessed with a grin.

  “It still can’t believe how uninterested everyone else was! We’re talking about a Christmas Market,” Tilly exclaimed. Her small mouth pouted in painted red. “I know we wizards have a reputation for being terrible at blending with mortals, but markets are so magical this time of year.”

  Her eyes shifted to Ælfweard as if expecting him to have an answer though both she and Petra were also wizards. Instead, the blond merely shrugged. “A lot of wizards don’t carry mortal money.”

  “Absolutely ridiculous coin systems,” Tilly huffed. “The more the Wizard Council keeps us separated by allowing elite families to run separate banking, the worse off we’ll be!”

  Laughing, Petra elbowed the smaller woman nearly knocking her over. “Don’t say that to these two. They’re going to get recruited to one of those banks.”

  “As if. I’m going to figure out how to produce helium and buy a plot of land in Utah to fake the discovery and sell the shit to med-equipment manufacturers,” the warlock asserted.

  Immediately, the smiles slid off the two women’s faces. Petra glanced between Ælfweard and William with a concerned frown. “You’re going back to America?”

  “Of course. There’s not a lot of space to buy land and fake mining discoveries around here,” William retorted, pushing down the queasy uncertainty which arose when Tilly and Petra met each other’s eyes before looking toward Ælfweard with concern.

  Offering them a small smile, Ælfweard smiled despite the tightness about his eyes. “Shouldn’t we get going?”

  Tilly opened her mouth, but Petra threw an arm around her shoulder and dragged Ælfweard to her side. “Let’s do this!”

  Teleporting went easily enough with Tilly taking the lead and William following behind to help carry all four of them through to the edge of Bath. They appeared in a narrow alley between two buildings without any windows to see their appearance. All four walked out into the street, blending neatly with the crowd.

  William had no idea what he expected, but the Christmas Market surpassed it all. Side by side, the stall stood; each filled with its own brilliant surprise. Spices — savory and sweet — fragranced the air. Small lights decorated the brim or skirt edges of some of the wooden structures, and trees on the edge of the square where they set up the market were decorated with lights. Everything festive and bright settled into place. For all the magic of Aelion Academy, this m
ortal market seemed all the more magical.

  Bouncing up and down, Tilly squealed. “It’s so beautiful!”

  “First, mulled cider,” Petra announced. “Then a meat pasty.”

  The warlock glanced to Ælfweard. “Do they have Christmas Markets like this around your home?”

  “When I was little, my mother took me to one in Galway,” the blond informed him. His bright blue eyes surveyed the market, and the glow of lights shimmered in his bright eyes. “I forgot how beautiful the fairy lights were.”

  Setting her hands upon her hips, Petra grinned. “And it’s the perfect place to grab last minute presents!”

  William’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuck, I completely forgot about presents! Okay, my sisters and my parents — shit, I’m crap. How did I forget?”

  “You remembered now,” Ælfweard reassured him.

  Somehow, the blond wizard saying it made the opposite seem more true. Consumed by the need to prove himself, William ignored almost everyone and fought with those who came at him negatively without holding much back. He exhausted himself, taking everything he had until he almost killed himself, and then the warlock finally slowed down enough to see the friendship Ælfweard had offered.

  Except the confession colored the memory. Even if Ælfweard recovered now, William hated the agony his friend went through when he couldn’t return the wizard’s affection. Ælfweard recovered, and though assuming the worst was behind them tempted the warlock, his gut forewarned that everything would only fall apart again.

  “Come on! I want something hot to drink, it’s cold as Ulric’s stone heart out here,” Petra complained as she rushed into the market with Tilly close behind. Petra ordered four, paying and handing the warm spiced cider to her friends despite Ælfweard’s protests. “Shut up and enjoy it.”

  “Thank you,” the Irish wizard murmured into his drink.

  With their drinks in hand, the four walked through the market. Row after row of stalls offered new delights at every turn. Tilly reveled in scarves, filling up her bag with gifts with practiced ease while William surveyed each item slowly, carefully selecting what he believed would be best suited. Eventually, their pacing — and perhaps a bit of pointed maneuvering on Petra’s part — had the four split into couples, leaving William and Ælfweard behind as Petra dragged Tilly off to find the meat pasty she had been craving.

  “Alright, that should do it,” William murmured, carefully erecting a veil to keep them from view as he placed a box into his bottomless bag which shouldn’t have fit by mortal physics. “Should we catch up and grab some food?”

  When Ælfweard didn’t respond, the warlock turned, looking for his roommate. The wizard stood a bit away. With his head bowed, he smiled down at something in his hand, and as William drew closer, he saw it was a glass fairy. Its delicate wings were that of a butterfly, and the carefully crafted curves of its body refracted light, sending small rainbows onto the blond’s gloves.

  “That’s cool,” William said, stepping up beside the wizard.

  Ælfweard smiled. “Moira, my littlest sister, loves fairies.”

  “Then it’s perfect! You should get it for her,” the warlock encouraged, but the wizard sighed, shaking his head as he went to put it back. “Whoa, why not? How expensive is it?”

  Shaking his head, Ælfweard explained, “It’s shaped glass. I can make that with some sand and the heat-pressure techniques we learned.”

  “Hmm, I guess so, but it’d be easier to do it if you had something to work from,” William retorted, picking up the fairy from where Ælfweard had returned it. “Come on, I’ll buy it, and we can work on it tomorrow and next week once we are dismissed from the end of year review coursework.”

  Ælfweard stepped between him and the person manning the stall. “You don’t have to buy it.”

  “Are you going to?” William retorted, and when the wizard hesitated, the warlock patted him on the shoulder. “Think of it as me paying you back for being a complete jerk at the beginning of the semester.”

  Knowing the other wouldn’t hear any different, the blond wizard nodded, fighting back the frustration at not having any mortal currency. Everything he made before went to help his family, and there weren’t many opportunities to make money while at Aelion let alone money that could be used in such a situation. He hated how easily William stepped in. Wrapped in paper and set into a small little bag, the figurine seemed as fragile and beautiful as everything else which might have been between them, and a sense of forlorn longing nearly overwhelmed the wizard.

  “You know, we’re not supposed to do alchemy in our room,” Ælfweard murmured.

  The warlock shrugged, waving off his roommate’s concern. “It’s just some heated sand. Hell, if you’re really nervous, we can just buy some glass, and I’ll teach you how to reshape materials the warlock way.”

  “They have both glass and sand in the open store room. We just might want to do it outside,” Ælfweard insisted.

  William shrugged, not committing one way or the other, and his mischievous smile made the wizard’s heart ache. No matter how he tried, Ælfweard would always be in love with the warlock. Mate or not, everything the man did left him overwhelmed with fondness. His heart sang for William.

  The pair caught up with Tilly and Petra, enjoying the rest of their time at the Christmas Market before returning to Aelion. As it was the weekend after finals, the store room was open still when they returned, and grabbing both sand and glass pieces, they found space near the back field where the battle magic course had their arena set up.

  “This should be pretty straightforward,” William murmured as he brought the sand to levitate before him.

  Brows furrowing, the wizard drew runes in the sand to set up his own surface on the ground. “Steady heat.”

  “Glass should be easier first…” the warlock began, but he trailed off with a smirk.

  “So you want to start with sand?”

  “Set myself up for success,” William joked as the wizard sorted out glass and brought them to spiral over the heat in the center of his surface.

  Side by side, they worked, forming glass and sculpting it back and forth with the glass fairy from the market between them. So close and yet so far from the one he wanted, Ælfweard found safety only in furious concentration. Otherwise, the other’s presence beside him served only to leave him desperate to hold the other man close. As the night went on and grew darker, they fought off the cold with the heat of their magic, and soon multiple small fairies took shape and other figures for Ælfweard’s younger siblings.

  Though the silence dragged on, and the closest they came to speech was the passing of new test designs between them or a murmur from Ælfweard about what one or another sibling liked, William found peace in the quiet companionship.

  Above them, the stars sparkled - bright and beautiful in a new moon sky. The first waves of green rippled over, coming from the north, and William’s jaw dropped as he stepped away from their word where the delicate glass of his latest attempt levitated in the air.

  “The Northern Lights!” he exclaimed, grinning as his breath curled with every word in the cold.

  Laughing, the warlock grinned. The entire world thrummed with unspeakable beauty. Colored lights weaving their way across the star freckled tapestry of the night sky. He had never seen anything as beautiful. Pale greens and blues danced, waving across the darkness.

  As Ælfweard stepped up alongside him, the warlock found himself nearly overwhelmed. Every atom in his body yearned to grab the collar of the other man’s jacket and pull him into a kiss. His body thrummed, aching and wanting to feel the soft press of the other’s lips against his own. The fluttering anxiety of affection left him unmoored. If only the sensation had come with this all-encompassing force when the wizard first kissed him. Then William would’ve believed them mates. This desperate desire, however, had no place in fate. Love robbed him of his senses, and only the guilt of the agony he already caused kept him from stealing ano
ther kiss.

  Warlocks had mates. As sure as the sun rose and set, William would meet his fated partner sooner than later, and the tragedy of leaving Ælfweard if he allowed them that momentary happiness would be all the worse. Ælfweard deserved better. Deserved more from William, so the warlock kept his hands to himself and admired the aurora as it danced.

  “I’ve never seen it before,” the blond whispered. Beneath the aurora’s glow, his rosy cheeks and bright eyes did nothing to help the warlock resist temptation. “I’m glad we’re seeing it together.”

  Heart aching, William smiled. “Me too.”

  The world was cruel. Fate followed wicked whims, and any designer of strings held no sense if they created William’s heart and tethered it to someone besides Ælfweard. Whoever they were, they couldn’t be as sweet as the wizard. Nobody could be. Not a soul had ever fought so politely for recognition, yet when given a chance to throw William aside and be accepted by his peers, the wizard had refused. Whatever soulmate came after likely wouldn’t face that same challenge. They wouldn’t care for William as well as Ælfweard did, doting on him in a way no one had ever done before.

  Whoever married Ælfweard would know true happiness. He would love them with his whole being, and William hoped they would be someone who deserved it. Someone who could return that affection ten fold. Ælfweard deserved so much. William could only hate that he couldn’t be the one to give it to him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When late morning sunlight shimmered through their window, Ælfweard woke slowly, turning over to admire the profile of William’s face. Lips slightly parted, he breathed softly. His black hair formed a dark halo about his head, and the flutter of his long lashes left him like a beautiful painting. He was a work of art. Just the sight of him left Ælfweard aching.

  Crawling from bed, the wizard stole away to the baths, washing and dressing. William still slept when he returned. It would be so easy to run away. To distance himself and let the longing fester into something darker, but he refused to be so weak. Refused to remove the warlock from his life. Even if the other man would never be his partner, the dark-haired man’s friendship brought Ælfweard so much joy. It was well worth the pain. As if to press the point, the line of figures on his desk — including a rose for his mother — had taken hours, and half of them came from William, who had worked so hard despite never having met any of Ælfweard’s family. Despite the two of them not being fated mates.