Chapter 13
GOLDEN TONGUES AND EMPTY PROMISES
MURIEL
What did you do to me?
The words hung heavy in the air between them. Muriel watched Brandon's face—those striking blue eyes that now held swirls of green she'd once attributed to resonance, the tension in his strong jaw, the way his hands clenched and released at his sides.
Her mind was still reeling from the Codex's vision. Images flickered through her consciousness—generations of women with her eyes, her magic, her face. Those subtle glows of magic around them, spiraling between keepers and their chosen protectors.
Bonds written in stars and sealed in blood.
Bonds exactly like the one she could now see pulsing between her and Brandon.
And he had known.
“Muriel—” he started.
“Don't.” The word came out sharper than she'd intended, but she couldn't help it. Her chest felt tight. Her magic churned in the center of her being like boiling water about to overflow. “Don't lie to me. Not anymore.”
His face went pale. “I never lied to you.”
“No?” Her laugh was bitter. “What would you call it, then? You said the resonance binding would help cloak my magic. Help me learn control. You never said it would—” Her voice broke.
She pressed her hands against her temples, trying to sort through the flood of information the Codex had poured into her.
“Do this.” She waved her hand back and forth between them. “What is this exactly?”
“A mate bond.”
“A mate bond,” she echoed in disbelief.
It wasn't a question, but Brandon answered anyway. “Yes.”
The single word hit her like a physical blow. She'd been sure she’d misunderstood. That the Codex had shown her possibilities, not reality. That Brandon would laugh and explain it was just a particularly strong resonance. What had he called it? Oh, right—compatible magic.
But there it was. Confirmation. Truth delivered with the gentleness of a knife to the ribs.
“When?”
“The moment we completed the resonance binding. I felt it snap into place.” His voice was quiet. Careful. Like he was talking to a spooked animal. “I should have told you immediately, but—”
“But what?” Muriel stood abruptly, needing distance. The room swam for a moment—aftereffects of the Codex vision, probably—but she steadied herself against the arm of the sofa. “You decided I didn't need to know that we’re mated? “
“Muriel, please—”
“Don't.” She held up a hand, magic crackling around her fingers before she could stop it. Vines exploded from the philodendrons, spilling over the bookshelves like a leafy green waterfall. “Don't 'please' me. Don't try to make this sound like anything other than what it is.”
Brandon took a step toward her, then stopped when she flinched back. The hurt that flashed across his face should have satisfied some vindictive part of her, but it didn't. It just made her chest ache more.
“What is it, then?” he asked softly. “Tell me what you think this is.”
“Manipulation.” The word tasted like ash. “Exactly what I was afraid of. A mage with a golden tongue and empty promises, binding a witch to him without her consent or knowledge.”
At least she wasn’t pregnant. She was glad now that Brandon had been keeping distance between them. Had he not, her naivete, blind trust, and infatuation might have placed her right into his bed.
“That's not—” He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into his voice. “I didn’t do this on purpose! I wasn't trying to bind you. It just happened. Mate bonds are astronomically rare.”
“And yet here we are.” Muriel gestured between them, at the connection she could now see with perfect clarity. Green and blue light spiraling together, beautiful and otherworldly and completely unwanted. “Bound. Connected. Tethered for eternity, according to the Codex. How convenient for you.”
“Convenient?” Brandon's eyes flashed. “You think this is convenient for me? Having a mate who doesn't trust me? Who looks at me like I'm her worst nightmare?”
“Because you are!” The words exploded out of her along with a wave of magic that made every plant in the room bloom at once. Flowers burst open in violent profusion, sending petals into mini-tornadoes. “I thought you were different. I trusted you! I—”
She couldn't finish. The betrayal was too raw. Too complete.
Brandon's expression crumpled. “Muriel, I know how this looks. Please, let me explain.”
“Explain what?” She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold together pieces that felt like they were shattering.
“That you knew about this and kept it secret for over a week while I trained with you, lived with you, actually started to—” She bit off the words before she could finish.
Started to fall for you. She couldn't say that now.
Couldn't give him any more power over her.
“The bond doesn't create feelings,” Brandon said urgently, taking another step forward. “It amplifies what's already there, but it doesn't manufacture emotion where none exists. Whatever you were starting to feel—”
“How would I know?” The question came out as a whisper. “How would I know what's real and what the bond is making me feel? Obviously, I can’t believe a word you say.”
Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating.
Muriel's mind raced through the past week and a half.
Every training session where his magic had felt like coming home.
Every moment of laughter over shared meals.
The way her heart raced and skipped when he smiled at her.
The pull she felt toward him that had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with him.
Had any of it been real? Were any of those feelings hers? Or were they just the bond's influence, pushing her toward a connection she hadn’t asked for and didn’t want?
“I need you to understand something,” Brandon said, his voice rough. “When the bond formed, I panicked. I knew what you thought of me. Of mages in general. Yet you took a chance, and then this happened. How was I supposed to tell you?”
“By being honest,” Muriel said flatly. “By telling me the truth and giving me a choice.”
He laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound.
“The mate bond isn’t a choice. If I had told you, you would have left skid marks on your way out the door, no more capable of protecting yourself than you were when you walked in.
The Collectors are still hunting you, Muriel.
One uncontrolled surge and they could pinpoint your location in seconds. ”
The words frightened her. But they also made something hard and cold settle in her chest.
“So this was about keeping me safe?” she asked. “That's the justification you’re going with?”
“Partially,” he said wearily, as if this was difficult for him too. She forged ahead anyway, the hurt and utter betrayal fueling her.
“You know what I think? I think you kept it secret because you wanted to.” Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
“When were you planning to tell me, Brandon?
After we'd slept together? After I'd given you everything?
When I was so far gone that I'd forgive you no matter what you'd done?”
“I was going to tell you!” His voice rose to match hers. “I was trying to find the right words, the right time—”
“There is no right time to tell someone you've stolen their choice!” Muriel's magic surged again, and this time she didn't try to hold it back.
The lemon tree's branches began to crack under the weight of ice.
The air itself chilled and crackled with energy, and moisture began to form rolling storm clouds along the ceiling.
“There's no good way to say 'I bound your soul to mine and decided you didn't need to know about it. '”
Brandon's magic rose to meet hers—instinctive, protective, trying to contain the wild surge. But when his power touched hers, Muriel felt the mate bond flare to life between them. Felt his emotions flooding through the connection.
Guilt. Regret. Fear of losing her.
And beneath it all, a possessive need so fierce it made her breath catch.
“Get your magic out of me,” she snarled, attempting to yank her own magic back. The bond stretched but didn't break, and that—the knowledge that she couldn't even control her own emotions anymore, couldn't separate what was hers from what bled through the connection—was the final straw.
“I can't,” Brandon said quietly. “Neither of us can. That's what a mate bond is. We're connected now. Forever.”
The word forever echoed through her mind like a death knell.
Muriel sank back onto the cushions, the fight draining out of her. “God, I'm such an idiot. You're all the same, aren't you? Smooth talking manipulators that make women believe…” She trailed off, unable to finish.
“Don’t presume to know me because of one bad experience. You don’t, and I'm not your father,” Brandon said fiercely, fire in his eyes once again.
“Aren't you?” She looked up at him, and hated that even now, she wanted to get closer. To touch him. To feel his magic wrap around her, promising safety and a soft place to land. “You made choices for me instead of with me. How is that different?”
“I didn’t choose this!” he roared. “Be angry with me for not telling you sooner. I deserve that. Be pissed that I wanted you to be able to hold your own when you walked out that door. I deserve that, too. But do not, for one minute, think I intended for this to happen.”
She’d never seen Brandon angry before. Never seen him lose control. But now, his hand was shaking as he raked it through his hair. Sparks of light now lit up the rolling gray clouds.
Muriel stood, her legs feeling like gelatin. She needed to get away from him. Needed space to think without his emotions bleeding into hers through that cursed bond. “I can't do this right now. I need space.”
She turned and fled to the guest room, closing the door behind her. Wards flared to life under her hands—instinctive magic creating a barrier between her and the man downstairs.
Between her and her mate.