Page 26 of Forbidden Mischief

ZAYNE

I kick the door shut behind me, sweat still clinging to the nape of my neck from practice.

My duffel bag lands with a thud on the hardwood floor, the smell of football and damp fabric spills out.

My limbs ache—the good kind of ache, earned from pushing myself harder than usual.

Coach says I’ve got potential and I really want to take our team to state this year.

The wards I put up after our date hum softly, reacting to my signature.

Magic recognizes magic, after all. I didn’t tell anyone I warded the house but I’m sure Dad could tell since he’s a more experienced warlock than me.

Asher looked shaken after the run in with his old pack members.

I could sense the hatred rolling off of them, so I put a few protection wards on the house just to be safe.

“Asher?” I call, dragging myself toward the kitchen, my only thought to see my mate and inhale every carb I can find.

No answer.

The house isn’t empty—there’s a soft clicking sound coming from the dining room. I walk in and see Alice leaning over the table, rearranging crystals my dad gave her in a pattern I’ve seen a hundred times but still can’t figure out what she’s doing.

She doesn’t look up. “Hey, honey.”

“Hey. Where’s Asher?” I yank open the fridge, looking for something microwavable and sweet.

“Oh, I sent him on a quick errand after practice,” she says, picking up an amethyst. “Dammit. I still can’t get this right.” She drops the purple gem to the table.

“What are you trying to do?” I ask, grabbing a Dr. Pepper and cold strawberry butter braid.

“Your dad gave me these crystals to practice making little spells and such. I am trying to do this fertility one and I can’t.”

“Fertility?” I ask, raising a brow, popping the top on the soda.

Alice blushes. “I haven’t said anything to anyone. Not even your dad. But I always wanted more kids. I’m still young, ya know. And well, this is TMI, but you’re my son and you're mated to my son...that sounds weird when I say it out loud.”

I laugh, but let her continue.

“Anyways. We’ve not used protection…me and your dad, and nothing has happened. So I’m worried something is wrong with me or I don’t know, that piece of shit ex of mine did something to block my reproduction.”

“So you want to give me a little brother or sister?” I stuff a piece of the butter braid in my mouth.

Alice looks up at me and smiles. “If that’s alright with you and Asher. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you two. You’re my first priority.”

“No, I think it’s awesome. I’d love to have a little sister. You should talk to Dad, though. I’m shit at crystals, that’s his thing. Between you and me, he always talked about giving me a sibling, so I bet he’d be eager to please.”

“Thanks, Zayne.” She sets a hand on mine and smiles. “And don’t worry about Asher. He probably ran into Prudence and you know how they get when together.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He just didn’t say much after practice. I stayed after to get in an extra workout and he was distracting me, so I told him to head home without me. Figured he’d be here by now.”

“He’ll walk through that door any minute. But Zayne, baby. I love you, but you smell like a gym sock. Why don’t you take a shower?”

“Awww, thanks, Alice,” I snort and carry my treats upstairs. Halfway up the stairs a weird tightness coils in my chest, something sharp and unfamiliar. I brush it off as post-workout dehydration or too much sun.

Probably both.

I finish eating in my room, scrolling through my phone absentmindedly, waiting for a text from Asher.

Nothing. I check the timestamp on his last message—hours ago.

Weird. He’s usually all over texting me about everything.

He saw things. Smelled things. Some weird squirrel even tried to square up with him on his run.

I take a quick shower, hoping it’ll settle the creeping unease that’s starting to slither beneath my skin. Hot Water. Good smelling soap. Steam so thick I can’t see my hands in front of me. But the minute I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around me, it slams into me.

My heart.

It tightens—hard–like I’ve been shocked by a car battery. I stumble into my room, catching myself on the edge of the bed, and stare at my reflection in the mirror on the back of the door.

My chest rises and falls too fast. Sweat beads at my temple, and my ribs ache like something is inside of me and trying to claw its way out.

What the fuck is happening to me?

I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Again and again. It doesn’t help. It’s like someone has hooked those little paddles at hospitals to me and keeps hitting the zap button over and over.

Panic runs through me and I drop the towel, throw on a shirt and some sweatpants, and flop onto my bed. Maybe I just to need to sleep. Maybe it’s just?—

Another kick to the chest.

My whole body flinches.

This is not normal.

“Asher,” I whisper, grabbing my phone. I call him. Straight to voicemail. I text him three times.

Me: Where are you?

Me: Call me NOW!

Me: Something is wrong with me.

Nothing.

I pace. Back and forth. Fingers tangling in my dark hair. The feeling only gets worse.

I’m dying.

I’m not crazy. But this…this isn’t right.

I don’t think. I move.

Downstairs, the lights flicker as I hit the last step, my magic reacting to whatever is happening inside of me.

“Dad!”

He’s in the den, a book hovering midair in front of him, his reading glasses sitting low on his nose even though he doesn’t need them. Old habits die hard, especially for old warlocks who grew up pretending to be human.

He looks up and sees my face. Immediately setting his book down.

“What’s wrong, son?”

“I think I need to go to the hospital.”

He blinks. “What?”

“My heart’s been racing for the last hour or so, and it’s feels like—like I’m being defibrillated, over and over again. I can’t breathe. It hurts. I think—think I’m having a heart attack. I’m only a fucking senior in high school.”

His face shifts instantly, concern wrinkling the corners of his eyes. He crosses the room, grabbing my shoulder with one hand, grounding me.

“Hey. Look at me, son. Breathe, Zayne. Just breathe.”

“I am!” I snap, tears threatening because I don't know what else to do and I never cry.

Dad’s mouth tightens. “Alice!” he shouts.

She’s already halfway in the room. “What is it?”

“Have you heard from Asher?”

“No,” she says quickly, grabbing her phone and dialing, her brows furrowing. “What’s going on?”

Dad pulls me closer, his arms around my shoulders. It helps. A little.

“Zayne thinks he’s having a heart attack. He’s not, but his body thinks he is.”

“Is that why the lights are flickering and it feels like magic is filling the house?”

“Yes. Did Asher answer?” Dad asks.

“No, and he’s been gone for awhile. I only asked him to stop at the store and get a few things.” She dials the phone again. “He’s not answering. What is going on?”

“They marked each other,” Dad says softly. “And that mark connects them more deeply than anyone realizes.”

Alice’s eyes widen. Her phone slips from her hand and crashes to the floor.

“No,” she gasps, tears filling her eyes as she drops to her knees.

“What?” I ask. “Why does that matter?”

Dad turns me gently, guiding me toward the mirror over the fireplace. I stare, confused, until he brushes the collar of my shirt down. That’s when I see it.

The mark Asher gave me that night when things got so heated is shimmering. Faint. Like moonlight soaked into my skin.

My breath catches.

Dad’s hand stays steady on my back. “That connection is screaming at you right now. Because something isn’t right with Asher.”

The room spins. “No. No, he’s fine. He’s just...taking too long. Maybe his phone died or?—”

“Zayne,” Alice says gently, “You wouldn’t be feeling this unless it was serious. The mark is tethered to his wellbeing. If he’s in pain, your body will respond.”

My knees buckle. Dad catches me, eases me to the couch.

“What do we do?” I whisper. “How do I fix it?”

Dad doesn’t answer right away. He grabs his case of spell ingredients and kneels beside me, sorting through herbs and stones, lips moving silently.

“We need to locate him,” he says. “But I need something of his. Something he wore recently. Or bled on. Or?—”

“His hoodie,” I say, scrambling up. “It’s in my laundry. He threw it in there this morning when we went to school.”

Alice races upstairs and returns with the soft, dark hoodie that smells like pine and heat and the woods behind our school. She clutches it, murmuring as she hands it to Dad. He lights a candle without even moving. The flame jumps straight into being.

I feel like my heart’s going to explode, and I keep checking my phone. No new messages. No call. No “hey, babe, I’m fine just ran into a bear while on my run lol.”

Dad frowns. “He’s alive. But… I can’t get a lock on him.”

Alice goes still. “What does that mean?”

He pulls out his phone. “Good ol’ technology,” he mutters. “The car’s near the grocery store. Northern end of town.”

“I sent him there,” Alice whispers, her voice trembling. “I just wanted vanilla ice cream… with sprinkles, caramel, cherries, cookie dough bites… oh, and pickles.” She’s rambling now, blinking fast, like if she keeps talking she won’t start crying.

“Alice!” my dad snaps. “He’s going to be fine. We know he’s alive, that's what matters, right? We’ll get our boy back.”

“I’m going,” I say, already halfway to the door.

“No,” Dad says, voice hard.

“You have to let me?—”

“No, Zayne. You’re too worked up. You can barely stand.”

“I have to find him. You don’t understand—this feeling—” My voice breaks again, the raw fear of it catching in my throat. “It’s like I’m breaking. I can’t breathe without him.”

Alice nods slowly, rising. “That mark won't let him rest until he sees Asher with his own eyes.”

Dad hesitates. His jaw flexes. Then he grabs his keys and hands them to me.

“You’re not going alone,” he says. “We go together. I’ll drive. You focus. If he’s in danger, we’ll handle it.”

Alice’s hands tremble as she hands him the keys.

Mine do the same as I head outside to the SUV—not from weakness, but adrenaline, magic, and love.

Because this isn’t just some casual hookup.

This is the real thing. The cosmic, terrifying, fate-sealed kind of love.

And it’s tethered to my skin, to my soul.

And right now, it’s in pain.

I will tear apart every tree in the goddamn forest if I have to.

Asher, I’m coming.