Chapter 6
BOND, MAGE BOND
brANDON
Brandon felt the exact instant everything changed. One second, he was guiding Muriel through the grounding exercise, his magic blending seamlessly with hers. The next, everything snapped into place—tumblers clicking like a lock.
A mate bond.
His eyes flew open even as he fought to keep his breathing steady, his expression neutral. Muriel's eyes were still closed, her face serene as she concentrated on the flow of magic between them. She hadn't felt it—or more likely, she had and didn't understand what it meant.
Because there was no mistaking that.
Brandon was a natural empath, but that was nothing compared to the flood of emotions that washed over him. Muriel’s emotions. Relief. Wonder. A fragile hope that made his chest tighten.
And underneath it all, a vast loneliness wrapped in bone-deep exhaustion.
It was enough to leave him feeling unsteady. How did she carry all of that on her own?
“You can open your eyes now.”
She did. Those striking eyes met his, and he inhaled sharply. Because brilliant blue sparks now twinkled amid the sea of hazel and deep forest green.
“Your eyes,” she said breathlessly. “I see flecks of green. Is that from the bond?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.” It wasn’t a lie if he didn’t specify which bond.
Her slow, wondrous smile transformed her face from beautiful to luminous. “Your magic feels so natural. I thought it would be weird but it’s not. I feel… lighter.”
“I guess we’re… more compatible than I thought.”
There’s no greater proof of compatibility than a mate bond, his conscience whispered.
He told it to shut the fuck up, then pushed those thoughts behind a wall of will before she heard them.
She’d reluctantly given him her trust. He couldn’t shatter it right out of the gate by telling her they were now essentially mated.
“So, what happens now?” she asked. “Do we move onto lessons in control?”
Under normal circumstances, yes, but he needed time to sort this out. His magic was already straining against his hold, wanting more. More of her magic. More of her. “I think we’ve done enough for today.”
“Oh.” She seemed disappointed, then rallied. “Are you sure? Because I don’t feel tired. In fact, I feel energized. Rejuvenated. Like I could do this all day.”
He withheld a groan as his magic swelled, wanting nothing more than to do things all day with her. “Which is exactly why we need to take this slowly. Recognizing your limits is a big part of control.”
“Okay. I trust your judgment.”
The blade of guilt twisted in his chest, then turned into a punch of fear as she grabbed her satchel and headed for the door.
She couldn’t just leave. Not now. Sure, his magic gave her a measure of protection, but she also bore his mark. She might not understand the significance of the eye color change, but others might.
“Where are you going?”
“You said we’re done for the day, right?”
Think, Emrys.
“Even with my magic cloaking yours, the Collectors are searching for you. And you’ve had several surges prior to today,” he reminded her.
“I’m aware. I’ll figure something out.”
That loneliness he’d sensed earlier swelled.
“We’ll figure it out. You’re not alone anymore, Muriel,” he told her. Literally.
She dropped her gaze as if afraid to trust that was true. “Right. What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t go back to Jessie’s. I don’t want to put her and her family in danger. I can't go home. Hotels aren't safe, even if I could afford one, which for the record, I can’t.”
“You could stay here.”
She looked around the shop doubtfully. “Here?”
“Upstairs,” he clarified. “The second floor is an apartment.”
“That’s where you live?”
He nodded. “I have a guest room and plenty of space, plus the building is warded. The Collectors won’t be able to sense your magic here, even with your surges.”
Muriel stared at him, emotions drifting across her expression. Surprise. Wariness. A fragile tendril of hope.
“That’s… I don't want to impose,” she said finally.
“No imposition.” He stood, feeling the absolute rightness of having her here, keeping her close.
“How long are we talking about?”
Forever. Aloud, he said, “As long as it takes for you to get a handle on your magic.”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip in a tell of uncertainty. She was so close. “I don’t know. You’re already doing so much for me.”
“I’m happy to help. And staying here has the added benefit of strengthening the resonance. The more time we spend together, the better.”
She considered this. He knew she’d made up her mind when she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “All right, but only if you let me do something for you.”
He had a few ideas. “Totally unnecessary.”
“Sorry, this is a dealbreaker. This—” she waved her hand back and forth between them “—has been completely one-sided so far, and that’s not okay. Either you let me help in some way—cooking, cleaning, shelving books, doing inventory, whatever—or I can’t accept.”
He felt the determination behind her words and exhaled. He understood the importance of picking his battles, and keeping Muriel close was his priority. “All right. If that’s what it takes.”
Two hours later, Muriel was settled into his guest room with a stack of books and an assortment of houseplants he insisted they pick up to make her feel more at home.
Thankfully, no one had been around when he’d taken her to Jessie’s to retrieve her things, so they’d avoided awkward questions about her change in eye color.
As for Brandon, he remained in the shop below, keeping himself busy with mindless tasks while he tried to wrap his head around what had happened.
Had he been attracted to Muriel at the first touch of her magic? Yes.
Had his obsession with her grown every time he saw her or heard her voice? Absolutely.
Had he been hopelessly enchanted by her rare smiles? Also a big fucking yes.
But a mate bond?
He'd known it was possible, in the same way winning the lottery was possible. Yes, there was an infinitesimal chance you could win, but you didn’t expect it to happen.
Magical practitioners were too unique, their energies too specific to facilitate long-lasting bonds.
Finding a perfect complement was astronomically rare.
Except it had happened anyway.
And he’d done nothing to prevent it. Could he have?
Maybe. Prophylactic spells did exist, but they were rarely used.
To invoke them during a simple resonance bond would be like wearing a helmet outside on the off chance space junk suddenly plummeted from the sky.
Why bother when the chance was negligible?
Now she was here, just above him, and the bond hummed between them like a living thing. He could feel her moving around the apartment, the gentle brush of her curiosity as she explored his space.
Brandon sank into one of the cozy reading chairs in the alcove and exhaled.
She thought they'd created a simple resonance binding. A training tool, and a temporary one at that. She had no idea that natural energy she was feeling was something much, much more.
Something that meant she was his, and he was hers, in every way that mattered.
The guilt was crushing.
But so was the wonder. This wasn’t simply resonance. This was synergy times a thousand.
No wonder she was up there content and humming and his shop looked like the Brazilian rainforest.
He should tell her. Right now. He should march up those stairs and explain what had really happened. Hey, so… funny thing. Turns out our magic is a little more than compatible…
Or how about, I know I said you could trust me, but that snap you felt earlier? The one that felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly? That was our magic permanently binding us together for eternity.
Except... he couldn’t bring himself to do it. For the first time in a long time, Muriel was breathing easier. Leaning on someone instead of trying to face everything alone. So at peace that she was fucking humming.
If he told her now, all of that would shatter. She'd see it as a betrayal. She'd run. And the Collectors would find her.
Brandon exhaled slowly.
He'd tell her. He would. Just not yet. Not until the immediate threat had passed and she'd learned enough control to be able to protect herself if—when—she decided to leave.
For now, with her safe and settled above him, her magic stable, and her emotions calm, he’d let her have this moment of peace.
Guilt was still lying heavy on him the next morning. If possible, Muriel was in an even better mood than she’d been the day before.
“Rough night?” Jason asked, gliding silently over the floor like the apex predator he was.
Brandon replied without looking up from the bill of lading he’d been staring at for an hour. “You could say that.”
He'd managed maybe two hours of fitful sleep, too aware of Muriel in the next room. The urge to be near her was strong and required continuous effort to resist. At least he’d convinced her to stay.
He knew she was safe. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be with miles or more between them.
Eventually, their connection would strengthen and stabilize, but until then, proximity was their best friend.
“Does it have anything to do with the pretty witch baking upstairs in your apartment?” Jason sniffed. “Blueberry muffins, I believe,” he said with an amused glint in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve been domesticated?”
“You don’t know the half of it.” Brandon raised his gaze, allowing Jason to see his eyes. As both a mage and a vampire male, he would understand the significance of the green flecks in his blue eyes.
Jason whistled softly. “Mate bond?”
Brandon nodded.
“That's... rare.”
“Astronomically.”
“Lucky male,” Jason murmured. “How is Muriel handling it?”
Brandon hesitated. “She doesn’t know.”
“Excuse me?”
“She doesn’t know. It just happened.”
Jason smirked. “So, you two were just holding hands and the next thing you knew, your magic just accidentally slipped into hers?”
“Dick,” Brandon muttered. “But yes, that is exactly what happened.”
“Surely she must have felt something.”
“She thinks it’s the resonance.” When Jason blinked slowly, Brandon explained, “She’s been very sheltered.”
“Clearly.” Silence stretched between them, then Jason said quietly, “You know this isn’t something you can hide forever. You must tell her before someone else does.”
“I know,” Brandon agreed. “And I will. But not yet. She came to me for help. Telling her we’re now soul-bound gives her another reason to believe mages are untrustworthy.”
Jason scoffed. “You are the opposite of untrustworthy. Secretive, perhaps, but aren’t we all? Besides, mate bonding isn’t a choice. You know that.”
“I do, yes, but she doesn’t and she’s not going to see it that way.” He’d been thinking of little else since the bond snapped into place. He’d approached it from every possible angle and kept coming up with the same result—with Muriel feeling tricked and betrayed and hating his guts.
“So explain it to her,” Jason said patiently.
Brandon shook his head. “It’s not that easy. This is all new to her.”
“The longer you wait, the worse the fallout is going to be.”
Yes, he knew. But that was a tomorrow problem. He’d rather have Muriel hate him later than end up in the hands of acquisitional operators because she panicked and ran away. He said as much to Jason.
The vampire laid a sympathetic hand on Brandon’s shoulder in silent support, then wisely moved on. “Speaking of the Collectors, they’re definitely circling. Corvus and a few others have been skulking around the Shenandoah area. Is the book secure?”
“For the moment.”
“So it’s here?” When Brandon nodded, Jason leaned forward. “Have you seen it?”
“Yes. Muriel keeps it with her, toting it around in a leather satchel.”
Jason’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. She doesn’t know what it is, only that it’s powerful and somehow connected to her.”
“Are you certain it’s the Codex?”
“As certain as I can be. The runes match sketches I’ve seen. They’re unlike anything I’ve come across before.”
Jason thought about that for a minute, then asked, “Have you considered reaching out to Armand?”
He hadn’t, but perhaps he should have. Jason’s reclusive grandsire, Armand, was over a thousand years old, and the world’s foremost expert on paranormal folklore in comparative religions.
It seemed reasonable to assume that would include Druidism, and that he’d have knowledge of the Codex and whatever lost language it had been written in.
“He lives for things like this,” Jason continued, respect and fondness softening his voice. “If nothing else, he could verify its authenticity.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Brandon agreed. “I’ll speak to Muriel about it.”
They both looked upward as light footsteps sounded from above and the door to the upstairs apartment opened.
“You do that,” Jason said with a smile as he headed for the door. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” He might need more than luck.
“Good morning,” Muriel said a minute later, handing Brandon a mug of coffee and a freshly baked blueberry muffin. He accepted both.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to. It’s the least I could do. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”
“I’m happy to do it. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Fantastic! I didn’t realize the toll the surges were taking, but with your magic stabilizing me, I feel so much better. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Guilt turned the delicious bite of muffin to ash in his mouth. All that bullshit he’d spouted to Jason about delaying the inevitable crumbled in the face of those trusting eyes. “About that… there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Okay.” She sat at the small table, looking at him expectantly.
The words were right there, ready to pass his lips and unburden his guilty conscience.
Then a series of visions flitted across his mind’s eye—her beautiful face falling as the truth sank in.
Betrayal snuffing out the blue sparks in her eyes.
Her screams as the Collectors tracked her down and siphoned her magic because she’d wanted nothing to do with him anymore.
“I was thinking… if you’re up for it, I know someone who might be able to tell us more about that book your mother left you.”
Yeah. He was a coward.