He raises his palm under the floating ball, fingers spread, and his brow tightens with focus. The hum of the magic deepens. The ball begins to expand. He moves his hand away and grabs mine, taking a few steps back, pulling me with him, and my lion stills inside me as we watch.
The ball stretches until it’s the height of a man. The surface goes flat and silver. I’m looking at a mirror standing upright in the middle of the clearing.
Aaron leans down and kisses my forehead.
I’m not looking at a reflection. I’m looking at a room I’m not standing in. Bookshelves, a leather sofa, a low fire throwing light against the walls. Wherever this is, it’s real.
A man steps into view on the other side of it.
A small sound of shock escapes me.
He has Aaron’s face. White hair, white beard, skin too thin for the bones it covers. A dying man, or a man who wants to look like one.
He looks at me, his gaze piercing through whatever separates our worlds.
He smiles, and there’s something predatory in it that makes my lion growl inside me.
“I knew you could reach out to me if you wanted,” he says. His voice is too warm. My lion does not like it.
He lifts a hand toward us. It moves a few inches and stops, like it’s hit a wall I can’t see. He doesn’t seem surprised by it, as if he’s tested this boundary before.
Aaron looks at me. “This is Eric. My birth father.”
My eyes narrow. I don’t smooth my face. I let the narrow stay, let him see my distrust.
Eric notices. His smile widens, and that bothers me more than if he’d frowned. “The lioness is always cautious.” He bows his head, too low. “Hello, Aaron’s mate.”
He looks at Aaron. “She’s beautiful, son.”
The wordsonlands wrong. Aaron clears his throat and takes my hand. He brings the back of it to his lips.
“I just wanted to thank you,” he says to Eric. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be fighting to get her back.”
If it weren’t for you.
The words land cold inside me, ice spreading through my veins. My ears stay perked, alert for danger. My tail goes rigid behind me.
So this is what made Aaron cross the territory line. Eric. From a sealed realm, through a mirror, telling my mate what to do.
I keep my face still with effort, forcing down the growl building in my throat. I let Aaron kiss the back of my hand, though every instinct screams at me to pull away, to drag him back from this danger he can’t see.
“You’ve never come to me before,” Eric says to Aaron, and his voice goes quieter. There’s something in it that wants to sound moved. “Thank you.”
Aaron kisses my forehead, smiles at my scowl, and lets go of my hand. He steps closer to the mirror. My lion goes rigid as he moves toward the man who abandoned him.
“Something tells me you know about my magic. What it can do.”
“I had an inkling,” Eric says, a glint in his eyes that makes me nervous.
“I shouldn’t trust you at all.” There’s conflict in Aaron’s voice.
Eric lets out a breath. His shoulders drop in a perfect performance of regret.
“I haven’t been a good father to you, or your sisters,” he says. “And I am sorry.”
I watch Aaron’s back, tension coiling through every muscle in my body.
My lion sees it first. Aaron’s shoulders drop. His weight shifts. He’s giving in, right in front of me.
