CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO || LEE #2
He was probably freaked. He probably thought he was about to walk into a fight.
Hunter could hear it too, I could tell. He gave me a knowing look, his green eyes filled with mischief.
When we were all over the threshold, Hunter kicked off his boots and set them neatly by the door. I did the same.
Then, without a word of discussion, we walked over to the bed and sat down at the edge of the mattress.
Daniel stood in the doorway, frozen and unsure.
“Your boots,” Hunter said, his expression perfectly neutral, giving nothing away. “You ought to take them off.” He cast me a bemused look and added, “Before you track mud into the cabin and Lee has a conniption fit.”
“I’ve never had a conniption fit,” I muttered sourly. “I just like things to be tidy.”
“Um. I can go stay in one of the empty cabins,” Daniel offered. “If it’s going to be weird that I’m here.”
“No.” My voice was just as neutral as my brother’s. “That’s not what’s going to happen.”
Daniel frowned, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of us. Then he took his boots off and approached the bed warily. He was still holding the journal. When Hunter and I both scooted apart to give him some room to sit down between us, he put it on his lap, his fingers tight around it.
“Listen, I was going to tell you,” Daniel started.
“I just—I needed time. I only just figured out the spell, right before my—” He broke off and he shook his head, as if clearing it.
“When the Henbanes showed up. But I shouldn’t have hidden it.
I was…” He swallowed, his gaze glued to the floor. “I was wrong.”
“You were afraid,” Hunter said, slipping his hand into Daniel’s palm and holding it. “And that’s okay.”
Daniel’s expression went startled. “It is?”
“Yeah,” Hunter said, tilting Daniel’s chin up to meet his gaze. “It is.”
“You saved our lives tonight,” I added. “We didn’t want to merge. We don’t want to. Now or ever.”
“And you stood up to your family.” Hunter spoke with over-the-top solemnity, his gaze never leaving Daniel’s. “It was pretty hot. Especially the part where you threatened them with bodily harm.”
Daniel let out a bray of laughter that seemed almost involuntary. “Oh wow, you’re ridiculous.”
“You know you love me.”
“I do,” Daniel said. Then he turned to me. “I love both of you.”
“We know,” I replied. “We love you too. Both of us.”
Hunter nodded. “Yeah. We do.”
“Can you forgive me for not telling you right away? I promised I wouldn’t keep secrets. And I didn’t mean to, I was just—what if everything changed? But it was selfish and stupid. I should have been honest.”
“Nothing is going to change,” I assured him.
“It’s only going to get better,” Hunter added. “And there’s not much to forgive. You would have told us eventually. I believe that. And you would’ve given us a choice. You never would’ve done what your—what the Henbanes tried to do. You’re nothing like them.”
Daniel swallowed hard and nodded, apparently not trusting himself to speak. He took a deep breath and opened the journal to the pages containing his spell. The spell his family had just tried to cast on us against our will. He tore the pages out and handed them to me.
“This belongs to you now. You can decide what to do with it—burn it or keep it or whatever.”
“We’re staying how we are,” I said, taking the pages from him and handing them to Hunter.
He immediately tore them in half and then in half again. We’d probably burn them later, just for good measure.
Daniel let out a long breath, staring at the scraps of paper in Hunter’s hand. Two years of work. It couldn’t have been easy to watch it get torn up. But then he said, “Good.”
“We talked about it,” I said. “We never would’ve asked for this, but we don’t regret it. We don’t regret anything.”
“That’s not true, actually,” Hunter said, setting the scraps of paper beside him on the bed.
His gaze searched mine for a long moment, as if checking in with me.
Then he turned his attention to Daniel. “I regret how I acted, especially in the beginning, after we’d first gotten here.
I should’ve given you a chance to explain, to make me understand your side of this.
I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.
You’d earned that from me and I… I was unfair to you.
But I’m never going to make that mistake again.
” Then he paused and added, “I’m sorry, Daniel. ”
Daniel stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re sorry?”
Hunter’s lips twitched. “I mean, I’m not usually wrong, but if you’re going to be our husband someday, I probably ought to figure out how to get my head out of my ass every now and then and learn to apologize when I am wrong.”
“Husband?” Daniel said weakly, his eyes going glassy. “For real?”
“Yeah,” I said, meeting his gaze and hoping that my expression conveyed even a fraction of the love I felt for the warlock.
“I mean, we used to take that for granted, right? We always kind of figured we’d get married.
And you’re literally our destined person.
Why the hell would that change now? Who even gets that kind of stamp of approval from the universe? As if we ever even needed it.”
“But only if you want that.” Hunter’s tone became gentler and he squeezed Daniel’s hand softly. “This isn’t a proposal or anything, by the way. We’ll buy you flowers and all that sappy shit when it actually happens.”
Daniel grinned at him. “You’re such a romantic.”
When we both fell silent, our mate seemed to realize we were waiting for an answer.
“If this isn’t a proposal, then what is it?” he asked cautiously.
“It’s a promise,” I told him.
“Someday—probably someday soon—we are going to ask you for real,” Hunter said, nodding at me. “And then, if you want it, we’re going to marry you. Both of us.”
“Well, then. You’d better keep your promise.” Daniel met Hunter’s gaze, then mine. “Because I do want that.”
I couldn’t help it. I leaned in and kissed him, reveling in the fact that he was ours—and we were both still here to be his. Daniel’s lips parted at once, surrendering so beautifully to me, letting me take control.
Then I pulled back and Hunter caught Daniel’s face with the palm of his hand, turning it so their gazes were locked.
Hunter’s expression was achingly tender.
Then he pulled Daniel in for a kiss as well.
It was rougher than mine, hungrier, but still tender.
And it was filled with just as much desperate need and want.
I’d made my choice—to stop asking myself if one of us was more real than the other and to instead be present. And, for perhaps the first time, I was at peace. Choosing to be here, to be embodied, to be with those I loved, was the only existential decision that truly mattered.
When Hunter pulled back, Daniel said, a bit breathlessly, “You two are trouble.”
Hunter and I traded a grin. My twin’s eyes were filled with love—not just for Daniel, but for me, too. And I was pretty sure mine were, too.
And then Hunter turned back to our mate and said, “Count on it. For as long as you’ll have us.”
Daniel laid his head down on my shoulder and met Hunter’s gaze. “Always.”