Page 17

NICHOLAS

N icholas couldn't stop thinking about that dream. All day the taste of Sylvie's lips had haunted him through every waking moment. His tiger paced restlessly beneath his skin, demanding he seek her out again.

But he couldn't. Not until he understood what they were dealing with. Especially since he had already confessed more in that dream then he had allowed himself to in all the time they'd been spending together.

Nicholas had to duck his head when entering Pines and Needles.

The bookstore smelled of old paper, leather bindings, and the faint hint of cinnamon from the café section in the back.

Towering shelves created a labyrinth of knowledge, each section meticulously organized despite the shop's cozy chaos.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." Markus appeared from behind a stack of new arrivals, his broad shoulders and rugged beard giving him the appearance of a lumberjack rather than a bookstore owner. "Or should I say, the cat who dragged himself in?"

Nicholas rolled his eyes. "Hilarious. Wolf jokes from a werewolf. Never gets old."

"Neither does your commitment issues," Markus countered with a knowing smirk. He tapped his nose. "You smell different. Less... available."

"I need the restricted section." Nicholas evaded the comment, though his wrist prickled at the mention. "Shifter histories. The old ones."

Markus raised an eyebrow. "Sounds serious. Let me get Rowan—he catalogs the older texts."

As Markus disappeared between the shelves, Nicholas wandered toward the mythology section, fingers skimming the spines.

His pocket felt heavy with the relic he'd been carrying since finding it in Echo Woods.

He hadn't told Sylvie that he still had it yet.

After that kiss—dream or not—he knew he should, but something held him back.

Fear , his tiger supplied unhelpfully. The same fear that's kept you running.

"Nicholas Whitmore browsing books instead of browsing the dating pool? The apocalypse must be nigh."

Nicholas turned to find Rowan approaching, his slender frame and kind eyes a perfect counterbalance to his mate's gruffness. Where Markus was all hard edges, Rowan was gentle curves—but Nicholas knew better than to mistake that softness for weakness.

"Hey, Ro. I need your help finding something specific."

"So Markus mentioned." Rowan studied him with surprising intensity. "Something about shifter histories? That's not exactly light reading."

Nicholas shifted his weight. "I'm researching mate bonds. Specifically... curses associated with them."

Rowan's eyes widened. "Oh. Oh. So the rumors are true? You and the Sage witch?"

"What rumors?" Nicholas's tiger stirred protectively.

Markus reappeared, leaning against a bookshelf. "Small town, big ears. Couple people saw your tiger form bolt across town toward her shop the other night. Plus, you've got that look."

"What look?"

"The 'I'm terrified but trying to play it cool' look." Markus crossed his arms. "I wore it for months before Rowan and I figured things out."

"There's nothing to figure out," Nicholas protested automatically. "It's just a magical mishap."

"Uh-huh." Rowan didn't bother hiding his disbelief. "And that's why you're here looking up mate bond curses. Because of a 'mishap.'"

Nicholas exhaled slowly. "It's complicated."

"Always is." Markus nodded toward the back of the store. "Come on. The books you want are in the locked cabinet."

Nicholas followed them through the maze of shelves to a small reading alcove with a leather armchair and a glass-fronted cabinet. Rowan produced an old-fashioned key and opened it, revealing rows of ancient-looking volumes.

"So what exactly are you looking for?" Rowan asked as he scanned the titles.

Nicholas hesitated. The relic in his pocket seemed to grow warmer. "My family has a... history. With mate bonds gone wrong."

Markus settled into a nearby chair. "The Whitmore Curse. I've heard whispers."

Nicholas's head snapped up. "You know about it?"

"Legends travel in shifter circles." Markus shrugged. "Tiger shifters who find their true mates but reject them, doomed to bring destruction to both."

The simplification made Nicholas wince. "It's more than that. My great-great-grandfather found his mate but refused her because he'd already married for political advantage. She was a witch who specialized in binding magic."

"Like Sylvie," Rowan murmured, pulling out a thick tome bound in faded red leather.

"Not exactly like Sylvie," Nicholas said sharply. "This witch tried to force the bond. When it failed, she cursed his bloodline—any Whitmore who denies their true mate would be plagued by disaster until they accepted the bond or..." He swallowed. "Or until one of them died."

Rowan handed him the book. "And you think this applies to you and Sylvie?"

"I don't know what to think." Nicholas's fingers traced the embossed title: Blood Bonds and Ancient Pacts .

"My father warned me about it from childhood.

Said it was why he never remarried after my mother died—she wasn't his true mate, but he'd rather be alone than risk finding his actual mate and triggering the curse. "

"So you've spent your life..." Markus squinted at him.

"Dating casually. Never getting serious. Keeping relationships physical but shallow." Nicholas gave a humorless laugh. "It seemed safer."

The relic in his pocket pulsed again, harder this time, and Nicholas flinched. Before he could stop it, the object tumbled from his pocket and rolled across the wooden floor, coming to rest at Rowan's feet.

The slender werewolf stared at it, then slowly knelt to examine it without touching. "What is that?"

"Something I found buried near an old mating circle in Echo Woods." Nicholas kept his voice neutral. "Cassian says it's cursed."

"And you're carrying it around in your pocket?" Markus looked incredulous. "What are you, new? You don't pocket cursed artifacts!"

"I was going to research it."

"By randomly carrying it around town?" Rowan asked, voice rising in pitch.

The relic pulsed again, emitting a faint violet glow that matched the band around Nicholas's wrist.

Markus's eyes narrowed. "You're already bonded to her, aren't you? That's a claiming band."

Nicholas unconsciously covered the band with his other hand. "It was an accident. Her spell backfired."

"Spells that powerful don't just 'backfire,' Nick." Rowan gestured toward the book. "They reveal what's already there."

"That's what Missy said," Nicholas muttered.

"Smart woman." Markus leaned forward. "Let me get this straight. You found your mate—accidentally got magically bonded to her—and now you're carrying around a cursed artifact tied to broken mate bonds while researching your family's mate-rejecting curse?"

When put like that, it sounded worse than Nicholas had allowed himself to admit.

"It's not like I planned this." His tiger stirred restlessly. "And it doesn't matter anyway. Sylvie doesn't want this. She's fighting the bond as hard as I am."

Rowan and Markus exchanged a look that spoke volumes.

"What?"

"Nothing." Rowan handed him another book. "Just wondering which of you is more stubborn."

"You should bring her to couples night," Markus suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye. "We're having one tonight."

Nicholas snorted. "Right, because that wouldn't be awkward at all."

"Could be enlightening." Markus stood and stretched. "We've had plenty of couples who started off hating each other."

"We don't hate each other," Nicholas defended automatically. The memory of their dream kiss flashed through his mind, and he felt heat rising to his face.

Rowan's eyes widened. "Oh. Something's happened."

"Nothing's happened," Nicholas insisted, though his tiger rumbled in disagreement.

"Your eyes just flashed," Markus pointed out. "And you're blushing."

"I am not—" Nicholas cut himself off when the relic on the floor pulsed again, stronger this time. He sighed and bent to pick it up, wrapping it in a handkerchief before pocketing it again. "I just need to understand what we're dealing with."

"What you're dealing with, Nicholas," Rowan said gently, "is the universe smacking you over the head with what you've been running from your whole life."

Nicholas clutched the books tighter. "I should go."

"Couples night. Seven o'clock," Markus called after him as Nicholas headed for the checkout. "Bring the witch!"

"Not a chance," Nicholas muttered, though a treacherous part of him wondered what Sylvie would think of such an invitation.

As he paid for the books, his phone chimed with a text. His heart raced when he saw Sylvie's name on the screen.

We need to talk about last night , it read. Dream or not, something's changing.

Nicholas stared at the message, his tiger practically purring with satisfaction despite his human side's apprehension.

"Trouble in paradise already?" Rowan teased, bagging the books.

"There is no paradise," Nicholas said, though the denial felt hollow even to his own ears. "Just a mess I need to clean up before anyone gets hurt."

Or worse, his mind supplied. Before the curse takes hold and destroys us both.