Chapter 3
three
LIV
I found Larson sitting on his ass on my porch, spinning a three-dimensional cube that glowed the way only spellcaster magic did. It was a shade of pink that bordered on red, and the most complex-looking spell I had ever seen.
Lars was alone, and looked exactly the way he had the last time I’d seen him. The man was six-and-a-half feet of smooth, brown skin and pure, undiluted charm. His hair was shaved on the sides, and his loose curls were only two or three inches long.
The twin brothers’ faces and builds were identical, even though the men couldn’t have been more different. They styled their hair similarly, too, though Larson's was shorter on the top.
My stupid, unhinged heart fell when I realized Niall wasn’t there.
It was a good thing, though. I tried to make myself believe that.
Maybe I wouldn't have to see Niall.
As disappointing as that was to a small, obnoxious part of me, I knew it would be for the better. I hadn't managed to really move on, but he probably had.
"You smell like sweat and panic," Larson said with a grin. "I had no idea you missed me that much."
"Fuck you." He wasn’t a shapeshifter like Niall, but his senses were still better than most immortals'.
Their mother was a spellcaster, and their father was a shapeshifter. Larson was born a caster, and Niall was a shifter, but they both had small attributes of the other. Lars had better senses. Niall had a feel for magic that most people didn't.
"I'd fuck you too, but considering your history with my brother, that seems like a bad idea." He winked at me.
"Oh please, we both know you don’t do women. Or any men other than Rob, at this point."
"I’m flattered that you remember my sexual preferences, your highness."
I flipped him off over my shoulder with one hand, and stabbed my passcode into the keypad on my front door with my other. I'd changed the code after Niall and I broke up, which was probably the only reason Larson was on the porch instead of already inside.
"It's barely been two years. I haven't forgotten a damn thing," I muttered.
"That makes three of us."
My throat swelled.
He was clearly referring to his brother. Niall was the only reason we knew each other, and the only person there other than me and Larson, when everything went to hell.
"How's Rob?" I asked as I pushed the door open. Rob was his long-time boyfriend, though boyfriend was a weak word for the connection the men shared. Niall and I had been solid, but they were something else entirely.
Lars had felt guilty about fucking up the wards since he accidentally created Rumor's endless rain. He'd warned Rob when they started dating that he wouldn't take a mate until he had figured out how to fix the problem. Rob hadn't cared about the wait.
Rob was also almost as furious as I was about the spell that went wrong, not that I'd ever really had time to discuss it with him. He was a busy guy, and I was busy trying to stop my magic from overwhelming me.
"He's as perfect as ever," Larson said, wearing a grin that I could hear in his voice without looking backward. "He finally got promoted."
"Good. He deserves it."
There was a beat of silence as Larson closed the front door behind us.
I glanced backward. "What's the pink spell for? The one you used last time was blue."
"This one will help me safely unravel some of the screwy edits I made to the wards that nearly killed us last time. It's going to take a lot longer than any normal spell would."
"How long?"
"Three days. Maybe four or five. Unraveling it without killing both of us or shutting the spell down entirely is… delicate."
"Fabulous." My voice was flat. "Where’s Niall? We both know he’s going to freak out when he learns that you’re trying to fix the rain again."
"At his studio. We've got a solid two to ten hours before he tracks my phone and realizes I'm here."
Niall had a studio in our house when we were together, but he always kept the one out in the Spellcaster Sector too.
He'd been planning on moving everything out of it, before we broke up, and making the one at our place his official workspace. That obviously had never happened.
"Any chance he hates me enough not to show up when he finds out?" I asked.
Larson snorted. "Not even maybe."
"This day just keeps getting better."
He followed me into my bedroom. I didn't bother shutting him out, since he was approximately zero percent interested in me, and had even walked in on me and Niall fucking at one point.
There was, unfortunately, no part of me Larson hadn't seen.
"How likely is your fated mate to kill me when he finds out about this? Callum mentioned that I’ll need to play peacemaker if he shows up. I imagine he’s fairly powerful," Larson called out.
I’d told Niall about fae having fated mates when everything went to shit between us, and Niall told Larson everything. I was zero percent surprised that Callum had added to his knowledge by telling Lars that I'd found my fated mate.
"If that's your way of asking who he is, you can forget it," I called back.
"We can visit him while we're fixing the spell, or he can come here. Unraveling the magic will give you more energy, not take it, after the initial tug," Larson called out.
"You just keep giving me more good news, Lars. More energy is exactly what I need," I said sarcastically.
I turned the shower off, walked to the closet in my towel, and got dressed quickly. A few minutes later, I stepped out in a clean pair of bright blue running shorts and a hot pink sports bra. Workout clothes were basically my uniform.
"Should we talk about that night?" Lars asked me, leaning back against the cabinets and watching me. The pinkish spell sat next to him on the countertop. "We never had a real conversation after everything went to shit."
"Nope. Let me see that." I held my hand out for the magic, and he passed it over.
I twisted and turned the cube. It looked fairly normal to me, though wildly complex.
"I’ve been trying to figure out a way to untangle the magic since you saved my life. That’s the eighty-sixth version." He gestured to the spell in my hand. "It’s going to work."
"I didn’t save your life."
"You did."
Did he seriously want to talk about what had happened?
Fine.
I’d talk about it, but he wouldn't like what I had to say.
Images of that night flashed through my mind.
Me, finding Niall kneeling next to a barely conscious Larson who was being drained by his own spell.
Niall, begging me to let Larson use my magic to power it.
Larson, tethering me to the spell with a slurred voice and blurry, blue magic.
The spell, draining me.
Me, telling Niall that he'd have to kill Larson to save my life.
Niall, watching me go unconscious in complete and utter panic. While not killing Larson.
Me, feeling the battery that was my magic as it reached its end for the first time in my life.
It was a miracle that me and Larson had survived. I had no idea how we did, because I'd literally felt my magic run out.
"I told Niall to kill you, Lars. Niall saved your life. If it was my call, you'd be dead."
Larson didn't bat an eye. I imagined the situation had been discussed endlessly by the brothers, like it had by me and my family. "He says he knew it wouldn’t kill you. He genuinely believes it."
"I’m well aware of what he believes. I'm equally aware that I felt my magic drain completely."
"You two need to talk about it. Niall hasn’t been the same since that night."
"Sacrificing the woman you love for a slim chance to save your twin brother would change anyone." I handed the magic back. "And I found my fated mate, so it doesn’t really matter."
"I don't see a bargain mark."
Of course he’d checked me out, looking for one. He'd probably done it for his brother’s sake, even though I could never let myself be with Niall again. Whether I'd found my soulmate or not.
"It's on my ass," I lied.
Larson snorted. "It's not on your ass."
"Fine, we haven’t made a bargain yet. It’s… a work in progress."
A really fucking shitty one.
"Then how do you know you’re fated?"
"When Callum mated with Kat, we realized our magic affects our mate differently than it affects other people. And I’m not talking about mate bonds with you or Niall. I shouldn’t have told him about it at all. Clearly. Let’s get this over with."
Larson sighed dramatically, but agreed.
I stalked out of the room, and heard him follow.
"Your feet are bleeding," he called from behind me.
"That’s not new," I called back.
He caught up to me easily with his insanely long legs. "They didn’t bleed the last time I saw you."
"So?"
"You’re still testy. I thought a friendly conversation would ease the tension."
"I'm testier than before, actually."
This whole situation was going to blow up in my face. I just knew it.
Callum probably did too.
This had to be a plan to force me to tell Jonah the truth. My best friend's meddling was obnoxious, but I wasn't surprised in the slightest that he was doing it. I was just going to have to hold out until the twins exited my life again so I could figure out what to do about Jonah.
We sat on the couch and braced ourselves when Larson enacted the magic.
The start of the unraveling was a fierce drain on our power that went on for about ten minutes. By the time it eased, me and Larson were both laying on our backs, panting, while we struggled to catch our breath.
As his spell worked, more of my energy returned.
I hated it. The energy. It was endless and bottomless, despite the severe pain in my feet and the exhaustion that weighed me down.
"Can we agree never to do that again?" I mumbled. My magic was already vibrating more violently in my middle than it usually did, despite me exhausting it that morning.
"I wish," he croaked.
"I already need to go running again."
"Your feet are still bleeding."
I groaned, struggling against the breaths that were already coming out more rapidly than before. My panic was swelling.
Fuck anxiety.
Fuck being a fae.
"Ignore my feet, Lars."