“Ah . . . the infamous mating bond thatmagicallysnaps into place on the longest or shortest day of the year.”
I added another block. “I take it you’re not a fan.”
“I don’t think magic should factor into choice.”
Was this about Ness? I’d heard they’d had a thing until she’d found her true mate.
“A mating link only exposes compatibility.” Mom thumbed to the next page. “Bodies can’t bind without the heart’s consent.”
Liam watched his son crawl over to me.
“Storm the Destroyer is on the loose,” I murmured, steadying Liam’s child as he climbed onto my lap. Before he could swat my tower, I tickled him.
He tucked his arms into his sides and giggled so hard he would’ve tipped over had I not been holding him. The second I stopped tickling him, he darted an arm out.
“Oh no, you don’t.” I slung him to the side just before his fingertips could graze my tower and tickled him anew.
This turned into a game. The moment I stopped tickling him, he’d reach out, taunting me with an outstretched finger while he watched, waited. Nine months, and already so clever.
“I wonder when Nate and Bea are going to tie the knot.” Mom’s voice tore me out of my carefree contemplation. “I assumed they’d be married before Nash and Adalyn.”
The front door opened.
“Nate?” Mom called out.
Storm wriggled on my lap, commanding my attention.
Even though my gaze flitted to the double-wide entrance, I resumed our little tickle game.
“Sorry . . . this blizzard.” Nate brushed the snow off his hair, then walked over to Mom and leaned over to kiss her cheek before ruffling my hair. “What’s up, Liam?” He held out his palms over the crackling logs.
Liam set down the block he’d been twirling and reached into his pocket. “I was at the crime scene with your sister.”
“Nikki,” Mom gasped, “you went to the crime scene?”
“I apologize, Meg. I imagine you didn’t want her seeing it. Anyway, while we were there, she found this.” Liam slid out the charm bracelet and held it up. “Apparently, it belongs to Bea.”
The bracelet shivered like a living organism.
Nate stared and stared, color leaching from his face until his complexion rivaled my wool V-neck.
Mom tossed her magazine onto the enormous chopped trunk we used as a coffee table. “Nate, honey, what’s going on?”
My brother’s hands began to tremble. “After I got the call about the attack, Bea—she broke up with me.” The volume of his voice frayed until his next words were barely audible. “She ripped off the bracelet. Her ring, too.” He dug out his wallet, then opened it and, after two unsuccessful attempts, managed to fish a diamond band out of the credit card flap. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you—if you could put this away in the safe.”
Mom leaped to her feet and padded over to my brother. “Oh, Nate.”
“The bracelet, it must’ve—slipped out of my pocket—when I was at—”
“Shh.” Mom hugged her son, who was a full head taller than she was and yet seemed so small in that moment. “It’s okay, honey.” She smoothed back Nate’s hair. “Shh.”
I met Liam’s stare over Storm’s head. I wasn’t sure if it was the relief of finding out Bea hadn’t been harmed or a reflection of the flames snapping beside us, but his eyes seemed brighter.
Although I grieved for my brother’s broken heart, I celebrated Bea’s unbroken body. If she’d been attacked . . . I forced my mind not to wander somewhere so dark and depressing.
I tickled Storm with renewed enthusiasm. “I’m sorry about Bea, Nate.”
“So am I, Pinecone. So am I.”
