Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LIORA
We took Zara home with us because she needed to heal and I needed to see that she was actually okay. I was pretty certain I’d taken a few years off my life after seeing her crumpled at the bottom of that ravine.
By the time we got home and Torin carried Zara in like she weighed nothing, Mitch pacing anxiously at his heels, I was bone-deep exhausted. Faelan had used her healing on Zara’s leg at the castle, but she’d insisted Zara rest up for a few days to make sure the break did heal.
Quite a power, Faelan had. I had about a million questions for her at some point, particularly about her furry boyfriend, but that would have to come at another time.
“I’m fine,” Zara muttered as Torin lowered her carefully onto my bed, her jaw set in that stubborn line. “Honestly, I don’t need this much fussing.”
“You nearly got dragged to your death by murder water horses,” I snapped, too frayed to soften it. “You’re allowed a bit of fussing.”
Torin glanced between us, reading the tension in the room like it was printed in bold. He rested a big, warm hand briefly on my shoulder.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” he said gently. “Give you two a minute.”
He disappeared into the kitchen. The soft clink of mugs and the hiss of the kettle filled the silence. Mitch hopped up on the bed, pressing his head into Zara’s lap with a whine. She slid her fingers into his fur automatically, shoulders loosening a fraction.
I hovered near the end of the bed and then sat, hands linked so tightly in my lap my knuckles ached.
For a long beat, we just breathed together.
Her dark hair was mussed, curls escaping her plait. She had dirt on her cheekbone, a leaf stuck in the sleeve of her cardigan, but she was here. Alive. Not broken at the bottom of a gully with Kelpies bearing down.
My eyes burned.
“You scared the absolute shite out of me,” I blurted, voice wobbling.
Zara’s lips parted, the fight that had been coiled in her easing into something softer. “I could say the same about you, you know. Coming after me like that. I know how hard it hurt to fall down there.”
I let out a somewhat hysterical laugh. “Very on-brand of me.”
“Aye, it is.” She sighed and leaned her head back against the pillows. “Come here then, you menace.”
I scooted forward and curled into her side, sharing the same pillow as we did as teenagers gossiping about boys.
“I’m sorry,” we both said at the same time.
And then, ridiculously, we both started laughing. It broke something open in my chest, all tangled with tears.
“You first,” she said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything,” I said in a rush.
“About Torin. About the truth spell. About the whole Order thing, and the chartweaver … situation. You’re my person, Z.
I should’ve come to you. I just”—I blew out air, trying to find words for the knot in my ribs—“I didn’t want you to look at me like I’d messed it all up again,” I admitted.
“I thought if I said it out loud, you’d tell me I was being na?ve or reckless, and I already …
I already think that about myself most days. I didn’t want to hear it from you too.”
Zara’s face crumpled, just a little. “Oh, L,” she whispered. “Is that what you think?”
“Have you met me?” I couldn’t help but give a small laugh.
“In fairness, the truth spell was impressive work,” she muttered.
“That is not the takeaway,” I groaned, but a little snort escaped me.
She shifted, wincing slightly as she adjusted her leg. “Listen to me, you daft ray of sunshine.” Her voice softened. “When I get … sharp with you, it’s not because I think you’re a screwup. It’s because I see you walking into storms without a coat and I want to run after you with a brolly.”
“That’s … actually quite sweet,” I said.
“I know. I wish you would see that more.” A corner of her mouth lifted. “I was upset you didn’t tell me about you and Torin. But underneath that? I was just worried. You just dove right in.”
“I wish you could see how built he was. It might explain it, just a little?” I protested. “Ridiculous shoulders. Woodsman thighs. Very dive-in-able.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose like she had a headache. “Aye, I felt how strong he was, all right? But I can also see things you can’t.”
“His aura,” I said quietly.
“Aye.” She stroked Mitch’s ears, her fingers steady again. “Last time I saw him? It was dull. But since you came back?” She huffed out a breath. “Color. Proper color.”
“Is that right?” I smiled, happy to know Torin’s aura was shiny again.
“It’s true.” She tilted her head toward me. “You think I didn’t notice how his voice sounded when he spoke to you tonight? How devastated he was?”
My chest squeezed. I thought of him carrying my sister up the gully, even though I could tell he didn’t want to leave me. Or the way his voice had broken when he’d seen the blood on my forehead. The way he’d looked at me in the castle, worry etched into every line of him.
“I didn’t tell you because I was happy,” I admitted in a small voice. “And that feels like borrowed magick for me. Like something that’ll be taken away as soon as I name it.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Her voice went thick. She reached out and found my hand, squeezing hard. “You are allowed happy. You are not on cosmic probation.”
I blinked fast.
“Also,” she added dryly, “for the record? I approve.”
My head snapped up. “You do?”
“Aye.” She laughed. “It pains me to say it, but the man’s a good one. Solid. Loyal.”
“He’s a Taurus,” I explained.
“And he loves you.”
Air evacuated my lungs. “You don’t know that,” I whispered, even as my heart thudded loud enough to hear.
“Liora, I can literally see emotional bonds,” she said flatly. “It’s like a soap opera in my head most days. That man is head over mud-splattered boots for you.”
My eyes burned. “He’s under a truth spell,” I reminded her. “He says what he has to say.”
“Does he?” she asked gently. “Or is that just a convenient excuse so you don’t have to believe someone could choose you freely?”
Well. Ouch.
“Rude,” I croaked.
“Accurate,” she countered.
“I think I love him, Z.”
“Well, duh.”
I laughed, and then sobered, realizing just how much I’d come to care for Torin in such a short time. He was also my person. He and Z were the most important people in my world.
We sat there for a moment, the quiet filling up with all the unsaid things.
“I am sorry,” she said again, softer. “For making you feel judged. For being so busy trying to steer your life from the sidelines that I forgot you’re the one actually living it.
You don’t owe me a report of every decision you make.
I just … want to be in your corner, L. Not standing over you with a clipboard. ”
My throat closed up. “I want you there,” I managed. “You’re my favorite person in the world, even when you’re being a sanctimonious cow.”
Zara snorted a laugh. “Likewise, you chaotic hedgehog.”
I leaned forward and we fumbled our way into a hug, careful of her leg and Mitch’s giant golden head wedged between us like a furry chaperone. Her arms tightened around me, and that familiar Zara scent wrapped around my nervous system like a blanket.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” I whispered into her shoulder, tears finally spilling.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured back.
We pulled apart, both sniffing. Mitch licked a stripe up my cheek with impeccable timing.
“Ugh, thanks, buddy,” I muttered, wiping my face.
“Right,” Zara said, shifting back into business mode like flicking a switch. “We need to sort that truth spell, aye?”
My stomach dipped. “The one I put on Torin.”
“The one he walked into,” Zara amended. “But I don’t like the idea of anything messing with his free will. Even if it’s made him more charming.”
“He was charming before,” I argued automatically, then winced. “I mean—”
“I know what you mean.” Zara felt around until she could grab my hand. “I know how to break the spell.”
“You do?” I gasped, my words going up a notch.
“Aye, I did some research. It’s a binding spell you did. The most important part of undoing it is that the original caster must unbind.”
“Original caster,” I repeated, relief filling me. “So … me.”
“Afraid so.” Zara’s mouth quirked. “You break it, you buy it, etcetera.”
“That’s … fair.”
“It’s simple enough. Uses breath and intention. No eye of newt or toenails of exes required.”
“Thank the stars,” I muttered. “I don’t think Avery would give us hers if I asked.”
Zara snorted. “You’ll stand in front of him,” she said, slipping into her practical-teacher voice. “You’ll own what you did. Then, if he agrees, you’ll say this.” She hesitated. “Do you want me to say it out loud once, and you repeat? It’ll stick better.”
“Yes, please,” I said, palms suddenly clammy.
She cleared her throat, then spoke in a low, measured cadence, the syllables rolling rich and old.
“Words I wound, I now unbind,
By star and breath, by heart and mind.
By your consent and my regret,
I unbind this spell. Our fates reset.”
Energy prickled along my arms just hearing it.
“You’ll add his name,” Zara continued. “And yours. Tie it specifically to the spell you were playing with that night.”
I sighed. “I really am an eejit.”
“A talented one,” she said dryly. “Liora, listen to me.”
I turned to her, waiting for whatever truth bomb she was about to drop on my head.
“This isn’t about punishing you,” she said. “It’s about making sure whatever grows between you and that man is clean. If he tells you he loves you after this—and he will,” she added, so matter-of-fact my heart tripped, “you’ll know it’s his choice. Not some cosmic compulsion.”
Tears threatened again. “And you’re … okay with that? With me loving him?”
Her expression softened. “I want you happy,” she said simply. “If that happiness comes with broad shoulders and a fondness for trees, who am I to argue?”
A watery laugh escaped me. “Z.”