Jamie sighed. "And I don't belong here. I need to find my brother. Find a way back to my world."
Corin's expression shuttered slightly. "Right. Of course."
"That doesn't mean I won't be here for you," Jamie added, reaching out to squeeze Corin's shoulder. "For as long as I can be."
"Just not like that," Corin finished for him, a sad smile turning his lips.
"Just not like that," Jamie agreed, though the words felt hollow even as he spoke them.
The truth was more complicated. He was attracted to Corin—how could he not be? The fae was beautiful, passionate, disarmingly sincere beneath his dramatic façade.
And that kiss had been more than nice.
But getting involved would make everything more painful when the time came to leave.
And he would have to leave. His life, his brother, his entire reality existed elsewhere. This magical interlude, however compelling, was temporary.
"Coffee?" Jamie offered, changing the subject as he climbed out of bed.
Corin stretched, some of his usual performative quality returning to his movements. "Your cure for all of life's problems?"
"It doesn't hurt," Jamie replied with a small smile.
They made their way to the kitchen, the store adjusting around them—lights brightening, temperature warming to perfect comfort. Jamie couldn't help but feel the building's satisfaction at having them move through it together.
"You're doing that, aren't you?" Corin asked, looking up at the ceiling. "Making the store respond this way."
Jamie shrugged. "Not consciously."
"That's what makes it so remarkable," Corin said, watching as the coffee machine started without Jamie touching it. "The magic responds to your unconscious desires."
Jamie considered this as he reached for mugs. "And what desires would those be?"
Corin's gaze met his, unexpectedly serious again. "To provide. To shelter. To fix things."
The assessment was uncomfortably accurate.
Something twisted in Jamie's chest. It would be so easy to lean across the counter, to kiss Corin again and see where it led. To take comfort in this strange exile, to build something in this magical world where he had somehow become powerful, necessary, wanted.
But before he could take any sort of action, the front door of the store burst open. A chill wind swept through the building, carrying the distinct smell of ozone. In the doorway stood Azelon, his markings glowing with unusual intensity.
"We have a problem," the Tideborn announced. "Something's coming."
Jamie's instincts immediately shifted to crisis management. He moved toward Azelon, all thoughts of his conflicted feelings shelved in the face of immediate danger.
"What kind of something?" he asked.
"The magical creatures I mentioned," Azelon replied. "They're drawn to the store's energy. I can sense them approaching from all directions."
Corin had gone pale. "How many?"
"Too many," Azelon said grimly. "The store's transition has created a beacon. They're coming to claim its power."
Jamie looked between them, then at the building around him. His store. His responsibility.
Whatever conflict churned inside him about Corin, about staying or leaving, about where he belonged—none of it mattered right now. His store needed defending, and so did the two people who had found shelter within its walls.
"Then we'll have to stop them," Jamie said simply.
