Azelon's eyes narrowed slightly, studying Jamie with new intensity. "You don't understand what we're facing."
"No," Jamie agreed. "But I understand my store. And it's not going to fall to whatever's out there." He turned toward Corin. "Not while we're here to protect it."
Corin's expression had shifted to something like wonder.
"You really mean that," he said softly.
Jamie nodded. "I do." Then, looking back to Azelon: "Tell me what we need to do."
In that moment, Jamie realized something important. For all his talk about needing to get home, about not belonging in this world, he had already claimed this store—and by extension, its occupants—as his responsibility. His to protect. His to care for.
The question of whether that made him a fool could wait for another day.
Chapter
Eight
Azelon had been keeping watch outside the store since dawn.
He told himself it was to monitor the forest's distortions, to track the growing magical instability around the building. But the truth was simpler and more painful: he couldn't bear to witness the easy intimacy that had developed between Jamie and Corin.
The first warning came as a ripple through the magical current—a disturbance too deliberate to be natural. Azelon stilled, extending his senses outward. Creatures. Many of them. Moving with purpose toward the store.
He sprinted back, throwing open the front door. Jamie and Corin stood in the kitchen doorway, their conversation halting abruptly at his entrance. For a fraction of a second, Azelon registered their proximity. Jamie's hand dropping from where it had rested on Corin's shoulder, the fae's eyes still bright with whatever had passed between them moments before.
The observation stung, but Azelon pushed past it.
"We have a problem," he announced. "Something's coming."
Jamie stepped forward immediately, all traces of softness hardening into focus. "What kind of something?"
"The magical creatures I mentioned," Azelon replied, tracking the approaching signatures. "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 admitted. "The store's transition has created a beacon. They're coming to claim its power."
He watched Jamie process this information, expecting fear or hesitation from the human. Instead, Jamie's jaw set with determination, just as it had the night before when he'd declared they'd protect the store.
"Then we'll have to stop them," he said simply.
Azelon couldn't suppress his surprise. "You don't understand what we're facing."
"No," Jamie agreed. "But I understand my store. And it's not going to fall to whatever's out there." He turned toward Corin. "Not while we're here to protect it."
The conviction in the human's voice stirred something Azelon had long suppressed. Not since his early days among the Tideborn Council had he witnessed such quiet authority.
"We need a plan," Azelon said, moving further into the store. "My water magic can create barriers, but they won't hold forever."
Jamie nodded, eyes scanning the building as if seeing beyond its physical structure. "The store can help. I can feel it wanting to."
"I should stay by the front door," Corin offered, his usual theatrical manner replaced by genuine determination. "My projection could slow them down."
Azelon opened his mouth to object. Corin's powers were unpredictable at best, dangerous at worst—but something in the fae's expression stopped him. This wasn't Corin's usual impulsiveness. He truly wanted to help.
Jamie was already moving, hands skimming along the walls of the store. "Corin, stay within sight of me. If your emotions start to slip, I need to know immediately."
Azelon found himself bristling at the easy authority Jamie displayed. For eight months, he'd been the one to contain Corin's chaotic magic. Now this human, this outsider, presumed to manage what Azelon had struggled with for so long.
