A long pause. The afternoon light caught his eyes, and for just a moment, she saw something old and tired there.
"She used magic on me," he said finally. "Small things at first. Mood adjustments. Making me agree with things I shouldn't have agreed to. I didn't even realize it was happening until years in." He met her eyes, and his expression was carefully guarded. "So if you're wondering why I'm not thrilled about being magically bound to another witch—that's why."
Cassie absorbed this. Her first instinct was to apologize, but something told her that wasn't what he needed.
"I won't do that," she said instead. "Use magic on you. I wouldn't even know how, but even if I did—I wouldn't."
"You already did. You summoned me here against my will."
"That was an accident."
"Aye. But you can see why I might be cautious."
She could. God, she could.
"I'm sorry," she said. "For the binding. For... all of this."
Something in his expression shifted. Not forgiveness—they weren't there yet—but something adjacent to it. Acknowledgment, maybe.
"Just learn to control it," he said. "So we can undo this and get back to our lives."
"I will."
He nodded once, then turned back to the fence gate, dismissing her with the efficiency of a man who'd said all he intended to say.
Cassie watched him work for a moment longer—the competent hands, the focused attention, the way he treated her broken gate like it mattered.
Her hormones, newly awakened and entirely unhelpful, suggested that he could be her next magical accident, too, and they wouldn't even complain.
She told them to shut up.
They didn't listen.
"Let me see that wrench."
Cassie didn't know why she said it. The words just fell out of her mouth like her brain had decided to freelance without consulting the rest of her.
Liam raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because it'smywrench. And it's stuck toyourhand. And maybe if I just?—"
She reached for it before he could protest.
The moment her fingers touched the metal, sparks flew.
Actual sparks—little golden fireflies of energy that danced between their hands where they both gripped the wrench. The metal went hot, then cold, then something in between that felt like static electricity with an attitude.
Cassie tried to pull back. Her hand didn't want to cooperate.
"What the—" Liam's voice was strained. "Cassie, let go."
"I'mtrying."
She wasn't trying. She couldn't try. Her hand was stuck, fingers wrapped around the wrench handle just below his, and wherever their skin almost-touched, the sparks intensified.
The wrench pulsed. Once. Twice. A third time, like a heartbeat.
Then it released them both.
