Garrick crossed his arms and huffed, his leg bouncing as he thought and processed everything. Not that I needed his help, his opinion, or his blessings, but I had to admit, I was kind of surprised he was still here. I’d thought the minute he saw those zeros in his bank account, he’d be gone.
It was almost touching.
“Let’s say you’re correct, that you and Sage are mates. It at least explains how weird you’ve been about her. So then why does Corvane also think she’s his mate? How can that happen?”
There had been loads of studies about mate bonds over the years and how they developed. All we knew was that they could only happen between two different types of Magiks, and that they were rare. Rare because not everyone got a mate or rare because it was difficult to find your mate—take your guess.
And there weren’t any patterns to follow that would make the search easier, either. It wasn’t about your DNA, or your looks; it was just a connection between souls, recognized by scent.
Wait… Sage’s scent. The green apple had called to me immediately, but the layer of jasmine underneath hadn’t.
Cold understanding slammed into me, pulling me under and chilling me to the bone.
“Her scent,” I said in a choked whisper.
“What’s that?”
“Her… her scent. Garrick, she had a heart transplant eight years ago. The donor… what if the donor was Victor’s mate? What if that affected her scent?”
He paused, his ears twitching. “How is that possible?”
“Fuck if I know, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. Victor feels some kind of mate-level connection to her, and it’s obvious his body believes it. He looked like he hadn’t had blood in weeks under that glamour.”
“He was glamoured?”
“Shh, yes, let me continue.” I held out my hands to keep him silent. “Okay, so his body reacts to her like she’s his mate, but obviously there’s something severely fucked up with their bond because not only has he been…” I ground my teeth together, “… abusing her, but he’s also married and has a kid. And that all happened recently, after he’d found her.”
There was no way someone with a real mate bond could marry someone else. Sleep with someone else. Have kids with someone else.
I mean, before even meeting Sage, just a whiff of her had ruined all other women for me. I couldn’t even get it up for that hot fox familiar while in a rut, for Ravaric’s sake.
“He’s getting the perks of the bond, and that’s why he’s gone to such lengths to keep her, but she can obviously walk away. None of this is benefiting her. She doesn’t have a familiar, andshe didn’t have her cauldron, either. He’s keeping her weak. And the only reason you keep people weak is because you’re afraid of what they’ll do to you if they can fight back.”
Garrick released a deep breath, rumbling his lips. “I don’t know, man. That sounds like a lot of conjecture.”
Yeah, it was a lot of conjecture. But what else could explain Corvane’s claim on her? Because Sage wasmymate. We’d both felt it, and while it had taken me a little longer to figure out why, she’d known it the second we’d met at that bar. That’s why she didn’t want me to die, why she’d sacrificed her freedom for my soul.
And it was time for me to do the same.
* * *
The road cut straight through ochre sand and black rock, heat shimmering above the asphalt.
I kept one hand on the wheel, the other tapping restlessly on my knee, eyes fixed on the road as the land flattened. Grass gave way to scrub, to thorny brush and pale, stubborn weeds clinging to cracked earth. The scent of sun-baked stone and iron-rich dust wafted in from the open window, while the wind grew hotter, sharper, and harder.
This was Ravaric’s domain, a world waiting for my spark to burst into flames.
It felt wrong to bring her scent here, so I rolled up my window, my jaw tight as I turned on the air.
The sun set, a palette of pale blue, bubblegum pink, tangerine, and indigo stretched as far as the eye could see. Stars slowly blinked into existence, first above, and then on the horizon, as towering silhouettes rose out of the sand like a mirage that refused to disappear when you blinked.
The closer I got, the louder the city became, even through the sealed car. Power and vice thrummed through the air, thick and oily, crawling under my skin. Neon ignited the dusk in violent color, and massive billboards floated above rooftops, rotating slowly, etched with promises of pleasure, fortune, excess.
Everything had a price here—most people just didn’t read the fine print.
I slowed as I reached the city gates. Two colossal statues of Ravaric flanked the entrance, carved from obsidian and gold. His horned visages grinned wide, hands outstretched to beckon you closer. Another massive sigil burned between them, flaring briefly as my car passed beneath it, recognizing my Magik and logging my entry. The floating “Welcome” sign flickered out, coming back to life with one more word attached to it:
Welcome home.
