Chapter 23
23
I t’s just like I saw in my vision. Devlin standing with a book, reading it, in the middle of his grandmother’s library.
“It’s right here.” He points to a paragraph. “It says that stabilization of any sort of magic in flux must have a way to be anchored, and it goes on to say”—his voice fills with excitement—“that the way to anchor it is to create an opposite effect.”
I fold my arms. “That’s a mouthful. But what does it mean?”
“It means that it needs to be grounded to the earth. Tied to the mother. That’s what. What I’m creating is a womb outside of the mother, so it must be tethered to her somehow.”
I frown. “But it can’t be physically tied to her. That defeats the purpose.” He shakes his head, because he’s already figured it out and is waiting for me to catch up. Then it hits me. “You mean it has to be tied to her mentally, psychically.”
He snaps his fingers. “Yes! That’s what we’ve been missing, and that’s easy enough to do. You remember how to tether magic to a person, right?”
“Oh yeah, that’s simple. You just create the connection. That can be done with a roping spell or even a potion.”
He grins from ear to ear. “See? I knew you were meant to be a potion master. This is it, Blair! The breakthrough that I’ve been waiting for.”
Devlin pulls me into a hug, and maybe it’s because of what I’ve learned about him, maybe it’s because it’s genuinely a great moment. I am happy for him, so I hug him back tightly, and his arms constrict around me, too. Not in an anaconda I’m-going-to-smother-you sort of way. This is different.
It’s full of feeling. It’s like all the anger and all the longing that I’ve been stowing away for literally years unleashes. And I feel the same coming from him. His hug has got a thousand I’m sorries written all over it, and if I could take things back, I would, but I’m happy where we are now, and for some really stupid reason, tears prick my eyes.
I will them to vanish and they do. Stupid tears.
Ever so slowly we pull away, and when I say slow, I mean this happens in super slow motion.
My cheek drags against his sandpapery one. His skin scrapes against mine, and his fingers curl into my forearms as our noses meet.
The air shifts. The feeling in the room becomes heavy as our lips line up. There’s this sudden change. It’s not like the other night when we made out.
This is different in a way that I can’t pinpoint.
We both pause when our lips are only an inch apart. My heart’s drumming in my throat. Can he hear it? He can probably hear it. But I can’t hear anything except the blood rushing in my ears, and the biggest surprise?
Our lips don’t move. They hover exactly where they are as if we both know that we can either move in or we can move away, and neither of us is willing to make such a huge, profound choice.
His breath coils against my skin like home—warm and spicy. But this is wrong, right? I’m supposed to be with Storm. I shouldn’t be thinking about Devlin.
Even though every cell in my body is on fire, yelling at me to pull away, I find myself unable to break from the force that is Devlin. He’s like a whirlpool in an ocean, pulling ships down to the depths, and I’m a willing vessel, ready to head to my destruction.
Our lips touch. It’s impossible to say who moves first. We actually may have moved at the same time. Yeah, that’s it. I’m totally not culpable here.
We kiss, and his lips are soft and pliant. And sensual. I’m lightheaded from such a simple meeting of two mouths. I can’t think straight because his lips are teasingly good, and everything about this kiss feels right. They’re so perfect that they’re practically begging for me to kiss them again.
But I don’t. I pull away. “Sorry.”
“Sorry,” he repeats, taking a step back and scrubbing a hand up the back of his head.
We stare at each other for a long time, neither of us moving. I don’t know what to say besides what I already have, and I don’t want to move because to be honest, I don’t want to stop looking at him. Devlin is absolutely, truly beautiful.
It’s right here, in this moment, that I realize that I’ve forgiven him for what happened in high school. Yes, he broke my heart. But I’ve held on to that for long enough. I’m ready to let go of all that hurt and become someone new, someone who doesn’t hate this man.
And craziest of all—I don’t actually think he’d use my power for anything devious. Maybe he deserves more credit than I’ve been giving him.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve got to get married, and even though I may not be sure about Storm, at least he’s talked about a future—wanting kids and all that.
Devlin hasn’t been serious about anyone in a long time, he said that. He’s not wanting to jump into a relationship. Which means that I can’t entertain the idea of us, because we don’t exist as a couple.
We’re still staring at one another when his grandmother calls, “Cookies!”
I inhale sharply and step back as he also retreats. I wink. “Last one to the kitchen’s a rotten egg.”
And then I scamper off, not looking back to see if he’s coming.