Page 8

SETTING HIS toothbrush on fire was Max’s first clue that his control was slipping.

He dropped the plastic stick into the sink and drowned the flames in water, gripping the counter as he breathed.

In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

He closed his eyes, focusing on the cool marble under his fingers and the sound of running water and the lingering scent of smoke.

A few minutes passed before the panic eased its grip, but he was relieved when he didn’t lose himself to it like he sometimes did.

He’d never been allowed a real therapist, because that was a sign of weakness, so he’d had to research how to get through panic attacks on his own in a desperate bid for any control over his own life.

He shut off the water and collapsed onto the bed, pressing the fresh ice pack Quinn had dropped off to his chest, intending to stay there all day. If he couldn’t even brush his teeth without catching fire, he definitely didn’t want to be near others. Even if part of him wanted to be.

He wasn’t sure if it was the binding or what, but something had changed.

He still knew deep down that he should have run.

Gotten on a plane and disappeared to the other side of the world.

But Quinn and Caius had healed him. Called him pack.

Promised to protect him. And if staying meant the Order couldn’t take him, maybe he should find a way to deal with that.

He couldn’t deny he was curious about shifters, and all three of them were gorgeous.

Even Caius’ salt-and-pepper hair didn’t detract from the warm butterflies in his gut.

He was pretty certain Quinn had a thing for Lukas, if the few hooded looks he’d caught the redhead throwing last night were any indication.

Not that he should care. Except he did, because Lukas seemed completely oblivious, which was either a tragedy or a blessing, and he hadn’t decided which.

With a groan, he rolled back and forth on the bed.

His entire body felt like tiny flames were licking along his nerves.

It didn’t exactly hurt, but it wasn’t the most pleasant sensation either.

He needed to set something on fire, but there was nothing in the room.

No trash or anything. Except for the toothbrush.

He rolled out of bed and stalked back to the bathroom, eyeing the partially charred plastic in the sink. Well, it was already ruined. Not like he could make it any less usable. He bit his bottom lip and stared at it, willing it to burst into flames again.

It remained stubbornly fire-free.

With a sigh, he picked it up, turning the melted plastic between his fingers. Almost immediately, he felt warmth crawl from his hand to the toothbrush and watched with fascination and unease as flames erupted from his fingertips.

The toothbrush warped and crackled as it melted further, but the flames didn’t hurt him.

His skin didn’t blister or even turn pink.

He maintained the flames until he held an unrecognizable clump of blackened plastic that he tossed in the trash.

He shook his fingers to put out the flames, but they didn’t go out.

They clung to his fingers like living superglue.

“Fuck,” he hissed, shoving his hand under running water.

The flames sputtered and hissed, slowly dwindling before they finally snuffed out.

Max slumped against the sink, keeping his hand under the water until he couldn’t stand the cold any longer.

Seriously, how was this his life? He pressed his palms against his face and breathed.

In and in and in until his lungs refused to hold any more.

Held until his chest ached and gray shifted at the edges of his vision. Then out and out and out.

It didn’t do anything for the certainty that he’d burn this house down in his sleep, but at least his fingers stopped shaking.

He flinched as someone knocked on the bedroom door.

“Max,” Quinn called.

With a sigh, he pushed himself out of the bathroom and found Quinn leaning into his room without stepping inside.

“Hungry? Cap brought back some pastries and egg croissants.” The question was followed by a change of clothes being tossed at his face.

Max caught them by reflex, then hesitated despite the rumble in his stomach.

He didn’t trust his control of his magic, and he was used to lurking in his own room most days.

As much as he’d liked pissing his father off, he’d never been actively suicidal.

He opened his mouth to decline, but Quinn held out a hand and wiggled his fingers.

“You’ll want a full stomach.”

He eyed Quinn with a suspicious, “Why?”

“You’ll see,” Quinn said with a grin, then turned and galloped down the stairs.

Unable to resist his curiosity, he changed into the jeans and sweater before following. When he found Quinn alone in the kitchen, he relaxed. Of the three of them, Quinn seemed the most harmless.

He settled at the counter and accepted the plate of food Quinn set in front of him, tearing off small pieces of croissant without eating most of them.

He tried to keep focused on his plate, but his eyes kept getting drawn to Quinn.

To the shift of lean muscles beneath his thin shirt, the flex of his shoulders and back as he moved, the trim waist and very nice ass.

A different heat from the flames crept up his neck, and there was a strange tug inside him. A shivery force of gravity beneath his skin, pulling him towards Quinn.

Was that the binding? He found all three of them attractive, gorgeous beyond even what he was used to seeing in movies, but now he had the mistaken impression he might actually have a chance of being with any of them.

Not that he cared to fall into bed with his captors. He wasn’t that desperate to get laid.

Besides, if he wasn’t a mage, there was no way in hell they’d even be interested in him. No one needed a useless bony guy who could set them on fire by sneezing.

“Hey,” Quinn said, coming around the counter with a frown. “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop.” He leaned in, hooking his arm around Max’s shoulders and squeezing.

Max tensed at the unexpected touch, but he couldn’t resist pushing into Quinn’s solid warmth. “Are you a telepath or something?”

Quinn snorted, brushing his wrist against Max’s neck and mussing his hair. “No, but my nose is excellent, and you smell like bad thoughts.”

“Not all bad,” he muttered before he could stop himself, heat creeping up his neck again.

Quinn pulled back enough to look at him, his lips slowly pulling into a grin. “Oh yeah? Tell me what else you were thinking. ”

“That you’re unbelievably hot.” Max blinked and snapped his mouth shut before groaning, covering his face with his hands.

Fuck, why had he said that? He slumped against the counter as Quinn’s delighted laughter sank into his head and stuck there like an earworm.

When he finally peeked through his fingers, Quinn was propped against the counter beside him and waggled his eyebrows.

“You’re pretty hot yourself.”

Max’s ears burned as he scrubbed at his face. “Are all shifters unnaturally gorgeous assholes?”

Quinn snickered. “Don’t let Lukas hear you say that. He already thinks he’s Fenrir’s gift to shifters.”

He raised an eyebrow, about to ask if Quinn thought that too, but Quinn straightened and bumped their shoulders together.

“We’re leaving as soon as Cap is ready,” Quinn said, tapping Max’s plate. “You have maybe five minutes to finish eating.”

Max shoved a bite of croissant into his mouth. “Where are we going?”

Caius answered from the stairs behind them. “Quinn said you were in college.”

“Yeah. Online, since I wasn’t allowed on campus and all.”

Caius sat on Max’s other side with a confused frown. “Not allowed?”

Max shrugged and ripped apart more of his croissant. “After the umpteenth time I ran, I was homeschooled. Haven’t been to a school since eighth grade. Pretty sure that was just an excuse, though. Daddy dearest didn’t want me bringing shame or attention to the family with my predilections .”

“I see. Would you rather attend classes in person?”

That was a trick question. It had to be.

Max didn’t respond immediately, watching Caius from the corner of his eye.

He knew better than to voice his desires; that was the quickest way to have to fight to keep what he did have.

But the thought of going from one cage to another was unbearable, even if this one was gilded.

He dropped his croissant and dusted his fingers off before turning to face Caius directly. “Yeah, I would.”

“Okay.” Caius nodded as if he really had no qualms about letting Max out of his sight. “We’ll get you what you need to finish this semester. By the time the next one starts, you should be able to protect yourself on campus. ”

“Seriously?”

Caius raised an eyebrow, reaching for the cup of coffee Quinn set in front of him. “What?”

“You’re just… gonna let me go off on my own?” Even as a kid, before he’d started his escape attempts, he’d always had bodyguards hovering around him.

Caius glanced at Quinn, obviously confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“You’re the one who said the Order was going to jump me!”

“That was before we bound you. I expect they’ll show up soon regardless, but things should be resolved well before the New Year.”

Quinn drummed his fingers against the counter. “We should get going if we don’t wanna be out all day.”

Caius glanced at his watch. “Is Lukas not coming?”

“He’s out on a run.”

Max glanced between them, still unable to comprehend their relationship. Caius was obviously the boss, but unlike Max’s father, he wasn’t punishing Quinn for stepping out of place. “You all are, like, military or something, right?”

Quinn beamed at him. “Marines, yeah. We’re both out,” he said, flicking a finger from himself to Caius, “but Lukas has a few years left on his contract.”

“Why’d you leave?”