Chapter 3 #2
I still stumble over the word. Just the feel of it on my tongue stirs my magic. But for now, I suppress the sparkles. I need to be smart about this—calm and convincing.
Rowan watches me approach, standing unnaturally still, like a watchful predator. Maybe it’s a habit from his owl days—or maybe he’s about to snatch me around the waist, push me against the refrigerator, and kiss me exactly like I’ve been hoping.
A girl can dream, right?
“What about it?” he asks.
I clear my throat, avoiding his eyes. “The damage is already done—we’ve already made our friendship potentially awkward. If breaking our fused magic takes away these feelings—”
“Your feelings. Mine aren’t in question.”
Feeling bold, I lift my eyes to his. “It’s unfair of you to assume mine are any less real than yours.”
His smile becomes crooked. “You know, you’re rather adorable, Kit.”
“And your Neilfellow arrogance is showing. Hush so I can talk.”
Chuckling, he makes a show of pressing his lips together. It’s incredibly difficult to contain my magic when he looks at me with that much affection.
“Anyway,” I say, hoping to keep my tone businesslike. “I think you’ll agree that the physical relationship boundaries you’ve established don’t make a lot of sense at this point.”
He pushes away from the counter and walks toward me.
When he’s so close I must look up, he pinches the short sleeve of my summer dress between his thumb and forefinger, thoughtfully rubbing the thin jersey fabric between them.
“I hope you’re aware I didn’t suggest we keep our distance because I don’t want to kiss you again.
” He gives my sleeve the gentlest tug. “Because I do. Very much.”
My magic slips. I gulp as I try to catch it, but it’s too late. Rowan’s lips twitch, his smile deepening as his gray eyes slit with pleasure.
“Go ahead then,” I say, certain the bond is making me brave. “You know I won’t stop you.”
“As soon as I break the bond, we will revisit a physical relationship—as long as it’s something you still desire.”
“I’m going to need you to get on that.”
He smiles, laughing softly. “I already have.”
My eyes widen, and I grasp his arm. “You’ve figured out how to sever our magic?”
“No.” His eyes move to my hand. “But I’m working on it. First, I need to figure out why our magic fused in the first place.”
“Maybe your magic just really liked my magic.”
“So it claimed you? Like a greedy toddler?”
I smile, distracted by the feel of Rowan’s firm arm under the fabric of his shirt sleeve. “Or maybe we’re looking at this all wrong. Perhaps it wasn’t your magic that was the instigator, but mine. Maybe you are my shiny toy.”
He bites back a smirk. “I cannot respond to that without getting myself into trouble.”
“I want to set a deadline.”
“A deadline?”
“A set amount of time that you may use to attempt to untangle our magic.”
“What happens if I can’t accomplish it?”
“Then we must accept our fate.”
“But it’s not fair to you—”
“And you’re the only one who cares about that.” I search his face. “You do want me, Rowan? Don’t you?”
His eyes soften. So earnestly my heart warms, he says, “So much.”
“Then don’t fight this. I want you. You want me. I’ll give you time to do what you think is right, but if our magic cannot be unraveled, then so be it.”
He exhales long and slow. “Fine.”
“Yes?” I ask, relieved.
“Yes.”
“How long is fair?”
He thinks about it, running his hand through his chocolate hair. “Three years.”
I gasp. “No.”
“You cannot rush magic. It’s complex, with an ocean of unknowns—”
“A month.”
“A month?” He looks taken aback, horrified that I would suggest something so absurd.
“Fine. Two months.”
“There is no possible way I could do it in less than three months—”
“Deal. Three months.”
He starts to laugh, shaking his head. “Kit, no. It’s ridiculous. I couldn’t—”
“Shall we ask Ansel then?” I hide a smile. “If you can’t do it, then maybe he can…”
Rowan narrows his eyes, seeing right through my tactic. “Nice try.”
Grinning, I say, “I have faith that you can do this. After all, how many mages have pulled off a level five metamorphosis?”
“That argument will be more impressive once I’ve successfully reversed a level five metamorphosis as well. I’ve only managed half the process.”
I shrug like that’s a tiny detail. “I need to go. Want to come home with me?”
“I planned on taking you home.”
“I mean, do you want to stay for dinner?”
“You should spend the evening with your parents.”
“I want to introduce you to them. We were so busy, I didn’t have a chance earlier.”
“All right,” he agrees, looking nervous again. “But then I’ll let you have some time with them.”
I head into the back and walk up the stairs. When he follows me, I ask, “What are you going to do this evening?”
“After I take you home, I’m going to the library to see what I can find about magical bonds.”
“The last time you went, you rode in my purse,” I tease him. “Ah, memories.”
He rolls his eyes as we enter the apartment. Chester wanders in from the office, looking like he just woke up from a nap. The red and white pomsky yawns. He stretches one back leg, then the next, and finally trots over to say hello.
“Hi, Rat,” Rowan says affectionately, leaning down to pet the fussy ball of fluff.
My summer magic warms the room. “I’m so happy the two of you are getting along.”
Rowan turns back to me. “Does it mean that much to you?”
Feeling mischievous, I smile. “Well, obviously. If you can’t undo the bond, he’s going to be your pomsky, too. Our furry little baby.”
I expect Rowan to object, but his expression becomes thoughtful instead.
“What?” I ask, suddenly warm under his direct gray gaze.
“What about other babies, Kit?” He watches me closely. “Have you thought about those?”
I blink at him.
Rowan ambles over to me, casual-like. “Accepting the mate bond means getting married. And married means children.”
I don’t realize I’m backing up until I bump into a tea storage shelf. I swallow, staring up at him. “How traditionally fae of you.”
“I am traditional, Kit. And while we’re on the subject of our agreement, I think we should talk about this.” He leans in, pressing his hands to the shelf on either side of my shoulders, caging me in. “How do you feel about children?”
“Good,” I breathe. “I like them.”
He smiles, enjoying himself. “And how do you feel about having my children?”
Oh, sunshine and kittens. I was not prepared for this conversation.
“I...” I clear my throat, worried I’m going to squeak. “I’m open to it.”
“You’re certain?” His smile turns into a smirk. “Talking about it doesn’t make you…nervous?”
“I feel like my entire body is made of magic, and at any second, I may fly away in the breeze like a thousand dandelion seeds. But I’m not nervous, per se.”
He snorts out a soft laugh.
“How do you feel about it?” I counter.
He exhales a measured breath, watching me closely, and then pushes away from the shelf. “I hadn’t pictured it until now. But…I like it.”
“Oh,” I say softly, eloquence gone.
His expression grows pensive. “I suspect it’s the mate bond’s influence. Do you feel it?”
I swallow. “I do.”
Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair, stepping back. “Three months is fine. We probably don’t have more than that before this thing consumes us, anyway.”
I nod, unable to find my voice.
“Our children wouldn’t be pixies.” He says the words carefully, as though he’s not sure how I’ll respond.
“They could only be mages.” The thought makes me grin. “Remember when we first met? I told you mages can have pixie relatives.”
Rowan’s smile becomes wry, telling me he remembers our very first conversation well.
“Does it bother you?” he asks.
“No.”
“Will it bother your family?”
“Maybe?” I answer honestly. “But they’ll get over it.”
It’s not like they’ll have much choice if we’re unable to break the bond.
Rowan studies me, looking thoughtful. “I have to admit, I’m intrigued by the future the mate bond is offering. Getting married, eventually starting a family with you—I want that. But I want you to choose it.” He pauses. “I want you to choose me.”
I touch his face, nearly sighing at how good the connection feels. “Then break the bond so I can.”
He takes my hand and presses a kiss to the inside of my palm. “That’s the plan.”