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“But the spell book you were talking about…”

“Written by the Weavers for the Weavers. They’ve never had their soul mates. This is all new for them. The hope is that the bonded mates will make a difference this time. That maybe we can save them from dying when they fight the pestilents.”

Cort didn’t realize that his knees were giving out until Wiley grabbed his elbow to help hold him up.

“Let’s get you in a chair,” Wiley quickly said, ushering Cort over to one of the stools that lined the counter. “I know it’s a lot to take in. Dane beats himself up a lot over not being able to fix Grey’s vision. He tends to forget that he’s saved Baer’s life twice. He’s healed Lucien and Clay several times. And Grey, he was a hell of a lot more banged up than just damaged eyes. Dane saved his life.”

“But Grey’s powers are linked to his eyes.”

“Yeah. It’s frustrating, but we’re not giving up. I’m looking for new spells to try. We will get his sight back.” Wiley reached over and placed his hand on Cort’s arm. “Not that we’re not incredibly grateful for all your work with him. You’ve helped him so much. We would have been so lost without you.”

Cort shook his head. “No, I get it. Trust me, I would much rather he have working eyes.”

Wiley glanced up at the clock and swore softly. “I’ve got a meeting with my editor in a half hour. I need to get ready.” Wiley squeezed his arm again. “You should lie down and relax for a little while. This is a lot to take in. We don’t want your brain melting over this.”

Smiling, Cort nodded. He appreciated the young man’s concern for him, but there was little chance of him relaxing now.

“Wiley? How did you know you were a soul mate for Baer?”

Wiley stopped and smiled. “It started as a feeling. Just that Baer was everything. But that wasn’t all. Grey…he could see soul mates. Described it as a red ribbon that stretched between the two people and wrapped around them.”

“Except that Grey can’t see now.”

Wiley’s smile slipped away. “He will get it back. I know it.”

Cort really hoped he was right. He didn’t know about soul mates. Wasn’t sure he believed in them. But Grey, he deserved to find his. That man deserved all the happiness in the world.Chapter 12Cort walked with Grey to what the man was calling “the practice field,” holding his arm to help guide him around the random branches and rocks that littered the path. Ruby walked with them as if she were watching out for predators. The other Weavers ambled ahead of them, their easy conversation carrying into the open air.

He didn’t know why they went to the field when they seemed to practice around the pool, but everything became clear when he saw the sunny clearing. Situated in the middle of the forest, the surrounding trees gave it a secluded feel. Grass was scorched in spots. Lucien had been there. Flowers grew in abundance around the edges. It was a nice, warm afternoon, and Cort looked forward to seeing them practice their magic again.

Calder carried two buckets of water, which he set in the center of the clearing. He sat next to them, his dark hair looking almost blue in the light. An easy smile spread across his face as he looked at Baer, who dropped down next to him and stretched his legs out in the grass. Lucien stood at the edge of the clearing. Everyone was dressed in casual jeans and T-shirts as they enjoyed the pleasant weather, which was in the upper sixties. Cort had worn a light jacket, and he scratched Ruby behind the ear as she stretched out next to him.

“Soul Weaver is in the practice field!” Baer called out.

“ ’Bout time,” Clay muttered as he approached the edge of the clearing.

“At least we don’t have to worry about him brainwashing us,” Lucien teased.

“What?” Calder said in a strangled voice. The water he’d been playing with collapsed into the buckets.

“Screw you!” Grey snapped with a small grin. “And your brain could use some washing. Your mind is filthy.”

“Just how I like it,” Lucien said in a low, growly voice.

Clay kneeled next to a dying flower, and Cort watched in amazement as he touched it and returned it to full life. He touched a couple more, shooting Cort a grin as a red flower continued to grow tall. He touched a tree that looked a little worse for wear and slowly, leaves began to plump out on the branches.

“I can’t imagine being able to bring things back to life,” Cort murmured, awe lacing his voice.

Clay walked closer and sat next to the buckets. “I can’t bring back something that’s dead, but if there’s still a spark left, I can coax that life into its former strength.”

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