Page 65 of Burdened Bonds

“We’re nearly done,” Rosa says, not looking up from the bubbling liquid. She beckons me closer and I peer down at the concoction. It’s a rich plum color and thick like treacle. “Just one last step left and this is the trickiest part.” She dabs the back of her hand against her clammy forehead. “I’m going to need your help.”

“What do you need us to do?”

“We need to add a little of your magic – both you fated mates. Winnie and I could do it, but I think it will be most effective if the magic comes from you two.”

“Okay,” I say. “How?”

Rosa smiles. “Be patient. I’m getting to that bit.” She stirs the potion and a puff of steam billows into the air. “I need to add the last ingredient and as I do, I need you both to add a drop of your magic.” I step forward and she lifts up her hand. “But not just any old magic. Magic soaked with love.”

“Love?” I say flatly.

“You do love the girl, don’t you?” I shuffle from one foot to the other, then nod. “Then you take a little of that love, you mix it with your magic, and you add it to the potion. The potion needs to know your intentions are pure. It needs to know you are using it with your loved one’s best interests at heart.”

“A potion can’t think,” I mutter. This sounds like the kind of woo woo bullshit Ellie dabbles in.

“That shows how much you know, young man,” Rosa says sternly. She tuts. “You men are always so quick to dismiss potions in favor of fancy-pants magic. And frankly, it’s stupid. A well-brewed potion can be just as powerful as magic wielded by the most accomplished magical.”

I hope she’s right. I hope this is going to work because I’m fucking desperate here.

“I don’t know how to add love to my magic,” I say gruffly.

The old woman hooks off her glasses and steps towards me, resting her palm right above my heart. “Love resides in your heart. When we’re in love, our heart is over-brimming with it. It’s damn hard to miss. You say you love Rhianna, then you must feel that love right here.”

I glare at her. All I feel is my heart pounding with irritation against her hand.

She tuts. “Close your eyes.” I hesitate, then do it. If it means finding Rhi, I can swallow my skepticism and my pride and embrace the woo woo. “What do you feel?”

“My bond,” I say, that shimmering, powerful sensation residing in my gut. Not my heart.

“Yes, I imagine that’s pretty overwhelming. But let down your guard, Mister Tough Guy. Let down your guard and let your feelings out. Let yourself truly experience your feelings for your fated mate.”

I let out a breath and try. I try my damn hardest. At first I think I’m going to fail. I’m so used to locking away my feelings. It’s something I’ve done all my life. Feelings weren’t allowed in a family like ours – especially after my mom passed. Those barriers I’ve erected to stop myself from feeling all the pain and heartache, all the fear and guilt, are strong and well fortified. But they’re not going to stand in the way of me finding my fated mate. And so I crash through them, letting all those hidden feelings come flooding out. I brace myself, waiting for the pain, the heartache, the fear, the guilt, and it’s there, of course it is, but those feelings are drowned by the vast volume of love that comes pouring out too.

Love. I knew I loved her. But did I truly know how much? Did I allow myself to acknowledge it? Because to love is to risk losing, is to risk that pain and heartache. It’s whatPhoenix feared so much when Rhianna first entered our lives.

But I’ve come to learn those fears were foolish. I’d risk it all for this. I’d risk everything for her.

“You feel it?” the old woman asks me, her hand pressing against my ribcage.

“Y-y-yes,” I say my voice caught in my throat.

“Then coat your magic in it and get ready.” I feel her step away. “Are you ready too, Professor?”

“I am.”

“Winnie,” she says, “get ready with that spoon. On the count of three … one … two … three!”

I send a drop of my magic spiraling through the air and splashing into the potion. There’s an almighty bang, the force of it making me stumble backwards, the kitchen full of smoke.

I cough, waving it away from my face and peer towards Rosa and the potion.

Winnie is picking the old woman off the floor. Her face is black with soot and her short hair standing on end.

“Are you all right, Nonny?” Winnie asks anxiously.

“Perfectly fine, Winnie, don’t fuss,” she says, batting her granddaughter’s hands away. She peers down into her cauldron and a wide smile spreads across her face. “Looks like it worked.”

I sigh with relief, glancing at Phoenix who’s smiling too.