Chapter 22
HELLO, MY NAME IS …
brANDON
Brandon lay on his back, one arm behind his head, the other wrapped around Muriel as she traced lazy patterns on his chest. Her hair was a curtain of moonlight across his shoulder, still damp from their earlier exertions. Her satisfaction was a warm glow beneath his ribs.
This was what he'd been terrified of losing.
“Your eyes are different again,” Muriel said softly.
He turned his head to look at her. “What?”
“Your eyes. They're not quite blue anymore. There's green in them—like aquamarine. It's beautiful.”
“Ah.” Brandon brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah. That happens.”
“When you use natural magic?”
“When I channel it heavily, yes. And when the mate bond is particularly active.” Smug satisfaction purred deep in his chest. “Which it definitely was.”
She propped herself up on one elbow, studying him with those incredible eyes.
“I've been meaning to ask you about that.
During the rescue, when we pooled our power—yours felt like mine.
Elemental. I thought mage magic was more structured.
Precise. You know, based on spell work and doing things a certain way.
“For most mages, that’s true,” he said carefully. “We, like witches, are born with a predilection for magic, but it must be honed through years of study and practice, repetition and discipline.”
“You said most mages. Not all?”
“No.” He sat up, and she shifted with him. He loved that she wanted to maintain that closeness. “A rare few are gifted with natural magic as well. It’s what you have, what the Druids practiced. Wild and instinctive, it’s drawn directly from the fabric of the world itself.”
“That’s what you have?”
“Yes.” Brandon took a breath. “All the males of my bloodline do.”
Muriel tilted her head, waiting.
This was it. The secret his family had guarded for generations.
“Myrddin Emrys—commonly known as Merlin—was my direct ancestor. I'm the last known descendant of his bloodline.”
The silence stretched. Muriel's eyes went wide, her mouth opening slightly.
“Merlin,” she finally said. “As in the Merlin? King Arthur's Merlin?”
“That's the one.”
“Holy shit.” She sat back, processing. Her eyes went distant for a moment, then sharpened with recognition.
“That's why Armand and Jason looked at you the way they did.
Why Ana said you knew more than Armand about magical artifacts.
The way they all deferred to you—I thought it was just respect, but it was more than that, wasn't it?”
“The Emrys name carries weight in certain circles,” Brandon admitted. “Most people don't know the connection, but spymasters like Jason and scholars like Armand—they know.”
“And you just... never mentioned it?”
“It’s not something I share. My bloodline, like yours, puts a target on my back. The Consilium has been trying to eradicate us for years.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How many years, exactly? You said less than three hundred.”
His lips quirked. “I'm one hundred and seventeen. Not exactly ancient by magical standards, but not young either. The Emrys line ages slowly. My father lived several centuries.”
“That’s why you know so much about magic and artifacts.”
“Yes. My family’s collection is unmatched. It’s quite extensive, and includes everything Merlin left behind—journals, grimoires, artifacts.”
“The underground library,” Muriel said slowly. “That's where you keep it.”
“Yes.” He met her eyes. “It’s been the mission of my family to collect, preserve, and protect magical knowledge, as well as keep it out of the hands of those who would use such things for their own gain.”
“Like the Liber Terrae and the Codex.”
He nodded. “Merlin spent his entire life searching for the Codex Animarum. He believed it held the key to understanding natural magic—the original source that all elemental magic derived from. He documented everything in his journals. Every lead, every dead end, every theory. He never found it.”
“But I did,” Muriel breathed. “In my mother's root cellar.”
“You did.” Brandon reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Merlin's legacy and the Codex's keeper, brought together after centuries. The Consilium has been trying to prevent exactly this kind of connection for generations.”
“Why?”
“Because together, we can move mountains.
Literally. That's why the Consilium has spent centuries hunting your bloodline and mine.” Brandon's voice went rough.
“They fear what we represent. Not just power, but the return of something ancient. Something that existed long before their rules and structures.”
Muriel was quiet, her thumb tracing patterns on the back of his hand. He sensed her processing that, sorting through implications.
“There's something else,” she said finally. “Something I felt during the rescue. Your magic didn’t only feel like mine, it felt stronger. Much stronger. Was that a result of the bond too?”
Brandon's breath caught. She'd noticed.
“You felt that?”
“Yes.” Her eyes searched his face. “What does it mean?”
This was it. The truth he hadn't fully understood himself until yesterday, when their magic had combined. Not only had he unleashed his bloodline magic, something in him had unlocked.
“Merlin's journals talk about natural magic,” Brandon said slowly. “How it flows, how it connects to the earth. I could call it forth, channel it, use it, but it never felt complete. Like I was accessing something through a barrier, instead of connecting directly to the source.”
“And now?”
“Now it's different, because of you.” He raised his free hand, and aquamarine light flickered around his fingers without effort. “When the bond formed, you unlocked something in me that's been dormant for generations.”
“I don't understand.”
“Merlin's line started with natural magic,” Brandon explained.
“But over centuries, as his descendants married into mage families and learned structured magic, that direct connection faded. We kept the ability to channel natural energy, but it became diluted, until it was more theory than practice.”
“But not anymore.”
“Not anymore.” He extinguished the light, turning his hand to show her. “Because you embody magic as pure and primal as it gets. The bond didn't just connect us emotionally. It reconnected me to the source Merlin drew from, through you.”
Muriel pulled her hand back, and through the bond he felt a flicker of something that looked like doubt.
“Did you know?” Her voice was quiet. “When you created the bond, did you know I would unlock this in you?”
Brandon's chest tightened. “No! I had no idea that was even possible.”
“But Merlin spent his whole life searching for the Codex. You knew what I was.”
“I knew you were a gifted earth witch that the Codex had chosen as its keeper,” he said carefully.
“I knew the bond would help stabilize your magic and hide you from the Consilium. But unlocking dormant natural magic in me?” He shook his head.
“That wasn't even in the realm of possibility. My family lost that direct connection generations ago. I thought it was gone forever.”
“So you didn't bond with me because I was the key?”
Understanding dawned. “Are you asking me if I wanted the power you could give me?”
She nodded, not meeting his eyes.
Brandon cupped her face, tilting it up until she had to look at him.
“No. Muriel, I’ve felt a connection to you from the first moment I held the amulet you made for Jessie.
And then when I met you—I was well and truly smitten.
” He smiled gently. “As for the mate bond, the only way that could form was if we were destined for each other.”
He opened himself completely, letting her feel the truth of it—his attraction that first day, his growing feelings through the training, the love that had nothing to do with power and everything to do with her.
“I didn't know you'd unlock anything in me,” he said quietly. “That was a gift I never expected. But even if you hadn't, I'd still choose this. Choose you. Every single time.”
Her eyes searched his face, and he felt as well as saw the doubt melting away.
“Okay,” she said softly. “I believe you.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Because it's true.”
She settled back against his chest.
“There's a story,” he said after a moment, “about Merlin and the Lady of the Lake. Have you heard it?”
“Bits and pieces. She was his student, wasn’t she?”
“His most gifted student. Her name was Nimue, though some texts call her Viviane. She was brilliant. She learned everything he could teach her and then some. He fell in love with her.” Brandon's voice went soft. “Completely, utterly in love.”
“Did they have a mate bond too?”
“Not exactly. Merlin loved her, but he didn’t trust her. He sacrificed part of himself, making a mate bond impossible. He suffered terribly.
“What happened?”
“Depends which version you read. Some say she betrayed him by using the magic he taught her to trap him in a cave or a tree, locked away forever and too weak to escape.
Others say she simply left, taking everything he'd given her and disappearing. But all the versions agree on one thing—she destroyed him.”
Muriel was quiet for a long moment. Then, softly: “Aren’t you afraid I'll do that to you? Betray you like the Lady of the Lake betrayed Merlin?”
Her eyes met his, clear and certain. “No. But even if you did, it wouldn’t change anything. I love you, Muriel Brennan, and I will continue to do so.”
Something in her expression softened. She kissed him back, deeper this time, her love echoing his own. “Right back atcha.”
He laughed and stroked her back. With Muriel’s warm body snuggled against his, her magic swirling lazily within him, he felt whole. Truly happy for the first time in his life.
She'd given him back something he hadn't known was missing.
And he'd give her everything he had in return.
Always.