“Probably the lusty haze over your eyes and the bit of drool here.” He skims his thumb over my lips.
“Well, you’re great writing inspiration.” A strange, desperate longing hits me in the chest.
“Why are you sad? Did I do something wrong?” he asks, sensing the turn in my mood through our new bond.
“No. With everything… I haven’t been able to write in a while. I miss it.” I glance down at my fingers. “And now, with my magic free, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to use a computer to type anymore.”
“There are a few spells and meditations you can use to make it easier. Or you could make Arran be your secretary and dictate to him. He can handle computers if he doesn’t get too excited.”
“I’ll be writing smut…” I laugh, but it sounds tired and resigned. “He’s going to be excited.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Calder assures me and gives me a squeeze.
Because my writing career is on hold for the foreseeable future since people are hunting me, I change the subject, “How are you feeling?”
Calder kisses the back of my head. “I’m good as I can be. I think the bond is helping me stay grounded. And the fragments are working to line up with what my body has been up to since the split. I feel like I should be more fucked up, but it’s also a relief for those lost pieces. For me too.”
“How so?”
“I know why I didn’t feel whole all these years—why I was missing my phoenix.”
“It gives everything you felt context.”
“I don’t feel like I’m insane anymore,” Calder explains. “Phoenixes never quite return the same, but it’s usually some memory loss, loss of connections. Or, in some extreme cases, we can have significant personality shifts. But the last one felt bigger, more destructive than any other death before it.”
“Why did it happen differently?”
“The witch used a curse on me right before I died. She fractured me on purpose.”
“Fucking bitch,” I growl. “If she isn’t dead, I’m killing her.”
He stills in surprise of my wrath. “I didn’t think you were a vengeful sort.”
“I suspect most people can be when you fuck with their mate.”
Calder’s hand guides my chin, so I’m looking over my shoulder at him again. “You don’t mind being my mate? My twin flame?”
“No.” I blink back the tears connected to the vulnerability we are both feeling. “How do you feel about it?”
“Like I’m the luckiest male, besides your other mates, obviously. But also like I don’t deserve someone as kind and beautiful as you are.”
“I can start acting like a bitch, if it helps you.” I smile playfully.
“Even your bitchy mode is far too kind to me.”
“And I’m notthatbeautiful.” I roll my eyes. “Besides, you’re hot as fuck. You could just walk straight up to a random supermodel and hump their leg and they’d be cool with it.”
“Arran’s the leg humping dog, remember?” Calder jokes. Then he rolls me over onto my back, props himself on an elbow, and stares down at me. “And you need to release the bullshit Rob programmed into your brain.”
I gulp at his intensity and nod. “I’m trying. Unfortunately, society offers the same bullshit programming for curvy women over twenty. And before you all came along, I didn’t exude magnetic sex appeal. So I never felt all that attractive. The magical vagina is a new development.”
He chuckles at my joke, then turns serious. “Your soul knew it had five mates out there and likely kept that magnetic appeal on lock down, waiting for you to find us. And now you’re our gravitational force. Our center. Our nexus. You’re the most gorgeous being. Even when I was being a bratty dickand resisting, I could see your beauty. I felt drawn to you. And honestly, it killed me to push you away. I didn’t want to do that anymore.”
Calder takes my hand in his, feeling the weight of it, like one might test the balance of a weapon. Then he lifts it to his face, placing in on his cheek.
He sighs, a painful moan that I’m not sure how to interpret. When he opens his eyes, the blue flames of his love burn brightly.
I don’t move, allowing him to get used to my touch.
