CHAPTER TWELVE || LEE
Pale gray light filtered through the curtains when I woke up.
Daniel was still between us, curled on his side.
His face was inches from mine on the pillow, close enough that I could see the faint shadows under his eyes, the dark sweep of his lashes, the way his lips were slightly parted in sleep.
Hunter’s expression was slack and peaceful, with one arm flung above his head and the other around Daniel.
Their breathing was synchronized, as if even while sleeping, the bond between the three of us had found a shared rhythm.
I knew they’d be awake soon—we’d just been sharing a beautiful dream.
Though it had begun in the clearing like always, it had ended with the three of us curled up on a blanket in the sun, out behind the house I’d grown up in.
I lay there watching the two of them sleep, memorizing this perfect moment.
The warmth of Daniel’s body against mine.
The sound of Hunter’s breathing. Daniel’s scent, like lemon verbena, and Hunter’s—fresh-cut grass in the sun, like how we’d spent every early June, the days of just existing together, when the school year had bled away to the promise of three months of vacation—mingled together.
This was all real and it cut me right down to the quick, the knowledge that I could have this now, if I let myself.
I loved Hunter, but I was in love with Daniel.
It wasn’t a big revelation or anything. I’d always loved Daniel, even back when I’d been a teenager and I hadn’t understood what my feelings for him meant.
It had been there for the past two years, buried under everything else, waiting for me to stop pretending it wasn’t there.
Moving quietly, I slipped out of our makeshift bed and made the three of us breakfast.
Eggs, toast, and coffee. Our kitchen was better stocked than Daniel’s disaster zone of a pantry, and I moved through the familiar routine of cooking, letting it ground me. With my hands busy, my mind was free to consider the endless possibilities stretching out before the three of us.
Hunter would likely take the lead, as he usually did. He was the more proactive one. The one who acted first. The one who wore his heart on his sleeve.
The one who—despite his temper—was easier to love.
I pushed that thought away.
Hunter emerged from the bed first, no doubt drawn by the smell of fresh coffee. He poured himself a mug without speaking and sat at the table, his hair sticking up on one side, looking more at peace than I’d ever seen him. There was a little smile that wouldn’t quite leave his lips.
Daniel joined us a few minutes later, sleep-rumpled, bleary-eyed, and beautiful. He stopped halfway across the cabin and blinked at both of us, seeming almost startled to find us there.
“Good morning,” I said, setting a plate of food on the table. “I made breakfast.”
“Morning,” he echoed, crossing the distance and sitting down at the table. Then he looked down at the plate of food in front of him and his expression softened. He looked up at me, almost bewildered. “You didn’t have to—”
“Eat,” Hunter and I said at the same time.
Daniel’s lips twitched. “You two are going to be insufferable now, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely,” Hunter said, and stole a piece of toast off Daniel’s plate.
Daniel made an indignant noise and snatched it back. Something in my chest turned molten at the sight of it.
And Daniel ate. Every single bite.
After breakfast, the three of us went back to Daniel’s cabin and collected some of the books we hadn’t gone through yet, then came back to our place.
We had far more space, after all. Daniel lost himself in his research.
He’d brought his messenger bag with him and the journal he’d been working on translating, and within minutes of returning, he was absorbed in the painstaking work of deciphering the remaining entries.
Hunter and I started dutifully poring through the tomes of magic we’d brought back with us.
“I’ve got it,” Daniel announced hours later, looking up from the text with wide eyes. “I decoded the full passage. The sympathetic manifestations—the power surges—they all settled on their own. They went away completely.”
Hunter and I exchanged a startled glance.
My twin spoke first. “Are you sure?”
“Yup.” Daniel grinned. “Within a month of the binding ceremony, everything was totally back to normal.” He set the journal down and ran both hands through his hair, the relief shining on his face.
“The coven ended up getting stronger as a whole, but the power surges faded once the new magic had integrated into the already-existing bonds between the other witches and warlocks.”
“You’re saying we just have to wait it out?” Hunter asked.
“Exactly,” Daniel said, his voice rising with excitement.
“My magic bleeding into the pack bonds will stabilize. And everyone’s abilities will probably either settle into something controllable or else fade entirely, like they did for the coven back then.
” He paused. “Probably that. This is all temporary.” He added, “Reed will be happy. We should tell him and Harris as soon as possible.”
“Hunter’s shields and my visions… those are temporary, too?”
Daniel’s expression became more careful and he shrugged. “It’s hard to know for sure. The bond between us is a little different than with the rest of the pack. I don’t know what will happen. The three of us are a little more closely bound than everyone else.”
He didn’t say mate bond, but I was pretty sure we all heard it.
Hunter was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Good.”
Daniel looked at him, his eyebrows climbing into his hairline. “Good?”
“Lee’s premonitions have saved your life twice now. And the shield or whatever was useful back at the bar. I wouldn’t mind keeping it.” Then he turned sheepish. “It’s kind of fun.”
A flash of unguarded warmth shot across Daniel’s face, causing Hunter and me to glance at each other.
When Hunter looked back at Daniel with a soft smile on his lips, I watched the way my other half gazed at Daniel, with that unbridled joy and love in his expression that he was no longer bothering to hide.
In that moment, a realization crashed through me. Things might not be so easy, after all. Because Hunter and I were both in love with Daniel Henbane. I felt a sudden chill as I wondered, for the very first time, which one of us our mate would eventually choose.