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Chapter 10

Brothers V

~VELIS~

He’s hiding something. Why doesn’t he want me to know if he’s bonded to Dolly? I hate these stupid withholding games he plays. He’s incredibly immature when he can’t deal with his emotions.

Arrik blows a puff of tobacco-scented smoke in my direction. “Calm your shit,” he says, flicking his ashes through the bars. “I can’t answer because I don’t know. To be honest, it never totally felt like we untethered. I mean, we did, but I can still feel her most of the time. It’s a little stronger now. Could be proximity. Or it might be something else. I also tried to summon myself to her when we got here. It didn’t work. I don’t know if it’s the same reason as you, but I don’t have much magic on me, and we aren’t in a position to access more. Let me think for a second—actually, conjure me a graphite and sketchpad.”

He gestures to me like I should have one on hand for him. I imagine it’s hard for him to rely on me. Fine by me. I hand him the sketchpad, and he holds it to his knee with his cigarette tucked between his teeth, scribbling a formula.

“What are you starting with?” I ask.

“Negative outcomes,” he grunts. “Z is the wish axis.”

“That’s backwards. Y is always the wish axis.”

“That’s the point.” Arrik shoves the notepad into my chest. “Here’s what you do: try a protection spell over Dolly before you summon yourself to her. See if it allows you to reach her. Logistically, it’s off the fate map within the margin of error, but it’s worth a shot. A laird isn’t meant to be detained. You might be strong enough to get the spell through the wards.”

I stare at his shorthand.

He takes a drag and adds with a chest full of smoke, “Turn it. Not that way. The other.”

It’s still missing half the formula. “Where’s the causality?”

“I do that part in here.” Arrik taps his head.

Of course he does. I tuck the paper into the void. “What about you?”

He looks down at the cigarette between his fingers. Ashes flick away to his feet. “Let me finish smoking this first. I might be right behind you. If I’m not, I expect a rescue by morning.”

Arrik excels at shrouding his motives even more than Dolly excels at suppressing her desires.

“And if it works?” I press. “If you’re somehow bonded to her too?” I hold his gaze, searching for cracks in his icy exterior.

“Are you asking if it changes the outcome of our last discussion?”

“I’m asking if you’ll still do what’s best for Dolly.”

My question isn’t entirely genuine. I know he’ll do what’s best for Dolly. What I’m really after is his reaction.

For a moment, there’s a flicker in the glassy wall of his pupil. And I feel it—the thing he’s really hiding.

It’s not ideal. “I know hope is new for you, Arrik , but this is not the time to start feeling it.”

He gives me those bored, sly motherfucking eyes. “Oh, get over yourself. Do you think I wanted back into this mess? I don’t care what arbitrary emotion tries to latch on. I’ve made my peace.” Again, he looks at his cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. “Now, if she decides she’d like a change of scenery, that’s a different story. But at this point, that’s unlikely to happen. Let’s just make sure she’s safe. Then we’ll deal with the rest. All this proves is that the bottle is fucked. It probably has nothing to do with either of us.”

I read him for more, but he lets nothing else slip. That or he believes what he’s saying.

It’s a lose-lose situation. If he’s able to summon himself to her after me, it means there’s more to this than just Dolly Jones being an abnormally good person. It means there really is some magical tie between them. And that’s going to be fun to deal with.

But if he can’t follow us, he’ll be stuck in a cage inside a palace I can’t teleport back to, and there goes the rest of our vacation while we figure out who set this up, likely ending in another Varhon family showdown.

I fucking hate this family.

Arrik sets a hand on my shoulder, setting aside his lack of sleep, frustration over being forced back here, and bottle-given territorial compulsion over our shared Master to give me a genuine offering:

“I’m roped in now, and that means I’m compelled to assist until I’m un-roped. Master likely won’t be happy to see me. She won’t want to be around me. She doesn’t fully understand, but it was rough, the way it ended between us. Go make sure she’s okay. Then we’ll fuck up whoever set this up.”

He’s still calling her Master.

And he’s pushing through tight pain every time he does.

His stare darkens as I read him.

Emotionally constipated fuck.

I give him a nod, cloaking us both in a protective sleeve that turns our auras visibly blue.

Arrik glances down, surprised by my unprovoked generosity. It’s ridiculously expensive and only a short-term magic.

But it could help against whatever’s waiting for us.

We can both be civil when you’re civil, Arrik.

As much as I hate to admit it, this will all go faster with his brain .

“Good luck,” I bid him.

But before I can even attempt a spell through the bars, I feel a shift in the winds of causality—subtle, yet undeniable. Arrik seems to catch it too, squinting at the threads of fate in the unseen void around us before giving me a nod. It feels like something on the other side of my destination has changed. And this time, when I try to summon myself to my master’s side—