North coughs. “The one for submissives?”
“It clears up misunderstandings,” Leo dismisses, around a mouthful of breakfast muffin. “The last thing I want is a potential partner thinking that feelings are allowed to enter into the equation, or worse, that anything long-term is an option.” He pauses. “Setting out expectations early also tends to eliminate anyone unsuited to my…preferences.”
“So?” Lambert pressed. “Didhe show you? What do you think?”
I scrub my hand down my face, then glance at North and Leo, who oddly seem just as interested in my answer. This is the part where any sensible woman would say no. I should take Jasper’s advice and tell him I’m not interested, bluntly.
“Lambert…”
He bounces on the balls of his feet again, eyes big and bright with eagerness.
He’s so earnest and open, and my gut turns at the idea of lying to him.
“Perhaps,” Leo interjects, swiping crumbs from around his mouth. “You could design your own contract. Set out your terms, even if they’re that we limit ourselves to platonic interactions and Lambert never brings this foolish idea up again.”
It’s an offer of space. An obvious reprieve from Lambert’s endless prompting and a way to kindly let all of them down. But it also…intrigues me. The mere idea of having this messy situation clarified on paper is so tempting. With that, there could be no misinterpretations.
Before, everything was so spontaneous. Unplanned. I felt so guilty afterwards for not discussing terms or exclusivity with Jasper or Lambert. A contract sounds like a way to take control of this whole crazy relationship.
I can’t believe Leo is the one to suggest it.
My brow furrows. “I thought you wouldn’t consider sharing with Dakari.”
He taps the paper in front of him, already reinforced by the runeforms necessary for me to cast it. “This is faultless work. And I also said that if the ensorcellment was broken, I’d reconsider.”
I’m not imagining the flare of hope in the depths of his expression, and my heart clenches a little.
“A contract sounds great!” Lambert says, but his smile falls a second later. “Wait… How long is it going to be? Can you give me the short version? I hate reading the terms and conditions.”
“I’ll think about it,” I settle. “Regardless. I’m ready to attempt this when you are.” I wave my hand at the runeform. “And then, provided all goes well, the Solarium awaits North’s first destruction tutoring session.”
Despite how late we slept in, North and Lambert are still early, which gives us some time before the others arrive.
“I’ll watch the stairs,” North grunts. “Stop anyone coming up and distracting you.”
I’m grateful for his offer. Last time we did this, Dakari’s appearance only set Leo further on edge and led to him accusing me of sabotage. I don’t want to repeat that experience.
Galileo tugs his jumper over his head with easy movements, followed by his shirt, and Lambert’s expression falls as we both take in the way his ribs stand out starkly below the runeform on his pectoral.
“Leo, dude…”
“Don’t panic. Kyrith’s work is sound.” I’m sure Leo is deliberately misunderstanding his brother’s concern.
I can only hope that if this works—and itmustwork—he takes a few days to care for himself before we start work on the next layer of the ensorcellment. He needs it.
If it follows convention, beneath the first layer will be the link that connects the curse across the Ó Rinn bloodline. Breaking that will save Leo’s children, should he have any, from the same fate.
The final layer is the trigger.
Unfortunately, Ammie was thorough in her vengeance. A quick glance at the other pages of her grimoire shows she put just as much thought into those two layers as the shell protecting them. The thought of working on the trigger alone sends a shiver running down my spine. A wrong word in theincantation, a single degree of inaccuracy in the lines of the runeform…
Leo’s curse will activate, and the person messing with it will die. Painfully.
Magic. I can only pray the next layers haven’t changed much from the original. It’s a vain hope, given the age of the magic, but we could really use some good news.
He takes a seat in his favourite chair, shifting his right arm back so it’s not in my way as I drift closer. I can’t help but double-check the neat lines on the parchment as I pick it up, second-guessing the incantation I derived through hours of painstaking work last night.
“Kyrie,” Leo murmurs, dragging my attention back to him. “I have faith in you.”
