Page 22 of Eternal Light (Fated in the Stars #5)

Withers remains silent, his creepy gaze boring into Nix’s face like the answers he’s looking for are written on his skin. Occasionally, there’s a tickle of pressure in his head, causing his wolf to growl and flash visions of Withers’s entrails painting the inside of the car.

The magic user’s anger and frustration have to be reward enough for now.

It’s not long before the driver pulls through a large gate at the bottom of a long drive.

There’s a large stone wall running off in either direction, and the wrought-iron gate slides open to reveal a medieval castle-style fortress in the distance.

As the car climbs up a steep stone drive, Nix can see what looks like a drawbridge and–is that a fucking moat?

When the car comes to a halt inside the walls, Withers opens the door and exits, slamming it in a fit of pique.

Before Luca could climb out, Nix grabs his hand and leans in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Together?”

Luca looks at him, and there’s a single nod, a flash of a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Maybe he’s not entirely forgiven—maybe he’s still too raw for that—but they’re in this together, just like everything else.

“As you wish, Buttercup.”

The double front doors are opened for them by a handsome servant in his thirties in a white uniform.

The man’s eyebrows go up when he sees them, but he says nothing.

“Connall, I’ll take champagne by the pool. I’m celebrating,” Carnell says dismissively before turning to Withers.

“Aleksander, let’s put our guests in the wine cellar. And find me another volunteer. I’m feeling exposed.” He looks at Nix and boops him on the nose. “One down and two in the hand. It’s all coming together, just as it was foretold.”

Nix feels icy fingers caress the inside of his elbow as Aleksander takes Nix by the arm.

“Goody. This way, little Novice. Luca.” Withers licks his lips, a look of creepy anticipation on his gaunt features.

Carnell turns back to them before they get too far. “Oh, Aleksander? I want them in pristine condition until I can decide how best to enjoy this. Understand?”

Withers doesn’t respond at first. He just watches Carnell like he’s already counted the seconds to his death.

Then he smiles. “Of course. Whatever you say.”

Once he has disappeared, confident his orders will be obeyed, Withers turns on his heel. He’s muttering under his breath, and sparks are flashing from his fingertips.

“What could you possibly need from a delusional idiot like Carnell?” Luca asks sweetly.

Withers looks at him suspiciously but says nothing.

So Luca continues, “You’re clearly the one with power. So why put up with his shit?”

Fuck, Luca, you better know what you’re doing.

“I mean, why not just mind-whammy him?”

Good question. He’d put Luca under twice, and he was clearly ready to do real harm again if Nix so much as twitches in his direction.

They round the corner into the empty kitchen, where a single door opens to reveal a darkened staircase. At the bottom, they find a full wine cellar with clear, hermetically-sealed glass sides containing hundreds of bottles of wine.

Withers just chuckles. He keys in the code and gestures for them to precede him. It’s not ideal, but at least they’re still alive and together, if none the wiser.

“The cellar has approximately four hours of air. I did the math. Although, as you can imagine, math isn’t my strong suit. Cross your fingers and pray that no one forgets you’re here in the meantime.”

It goes without saying that Nix doesn’t plan on being in here that long.

Withers wiggles his fingers in goodbye, but at the last minute, he stops and opens the door again. “I haven’t forgotten our date for later, little novice. I’m curious about how you’re managing to thwart me and about what’s under your t-shirt.”

He winks and blows them a kiss.

Once he’s slithered up the stairs, Luca crouches down, holding his head. He’s at the end of his rope and maxed out. He breathes deeply in the familiar rhythm he uses to calm his panic attacks.

Quite sure that being locked in the wine cellar isn’t helping, Nix pulls out a few bottles of wine, looking for something to replace the scent of motor oil and maybe settle Luca’s nerves.

He squints at a dusty label, finally choosing the oldest bottle of wine he can find.

It says Penfolds Grange 1951 on the label.

It’s from Australia. A Shiraz…whatever that is.

Gideon would know. But it looks expensive—he hopes Carnell will miss it.

He sits as close to Luca as he dares because he isn’t sure of his welcome.

“Hey, let’s try to get some of the oil off, eh?” Nix offers the wine.

“With wine?”

“Better Penfolds Grange 1951…than Penzoil 1988?” Nix jokes.

Luca looks skeptical, but he nods. Nix taps the neck of the dark green bottle on the ground until it breaks.

Ripping the edge of Luca’s long t-shirt this time, he uses the wine to dab at the motor oil around his mate’s pretty neck.

“Much better. At least I can smell you now,” Nix murmurs.

“Can you turn your bond and scent back on? You’re a big blank, and it’s making this worse. Please?”

Nix doesn’t want to.

He wants to stay undetectable—even from himself. But Luca’s already pale and sweating. The BBS must already be hitting hard.

Nix hesitates—one heartbeat, then another. Then he lets go.

And the bonds flood back in.

All of them.

He gasps, and the relief he feels explodes along every nerve ending.

“Nix?” Luca asks. “What is it?”

“He’s alive. Fuck, Luc. Jamie isn’t dead.”

“He’s not?” he questions, eyes hazy, and then he’s laughing. “I can feel him, too. I mean, it feels the same as it always has. Thank fuck.”

They still have forever, just like Jamie promised.

Nix’s eyes burn, and he laughs. “He didn’t leave me, Luc! He didn’t leave us.”

The dam breaks. Laughter, tears, joy—all of it spills out in a messy jumble. He takes Luca’s hands, and together, they jump around the expensive wine cellar like the happy, relieved idiots they are lucky to be.

After a few minutes, Nix takes them both to the floor again, and Luca grabs the open wine and carefully pours a stream into his mouth.

“Fuck, that’s pretty good,” he says, and looks at the label. “Do you think Gideon could get us some for home? You know I don’t drink much because I like to play, but I might make an exception for this.”

Nix doesn’t say it’s probably too fucking expensive—for drinking or for washing off motor oil. He takes the broken bottle from his mate and puts it on the floor, in case he needs a projectile to crack the glass in a bit, and to keep Luca from being drunk and stupidly brave…again.

“Let’s figure a way out of here so I can go kick Jamie’s ass for scaring fifty years off my life.”

Nix leans back against the cool glass wall, Luca’s weight pressed against his side, both of them finally breathing again. Relief still buzzes through his limbs.

They don’t have forever yet. Not until everyone’s safe.

Then he remembers the phone.

He pulls it from the waistband of his briefs—classy—and powers it on. There’s only one number he knows by heart.

He dials. The phone rings once. Twice.

“Yes? Who is this?”

Nix exhales. “It’s me.”