Page 24 of Binding His Fated Mates

“But the lying. He lied for years—”

“Yeah, I know. He should’ve told us who he really was. That he was a warlock. We would have tried to understand it.”

I turned to meet his gaze, grateful to be on solid ground again, with all my clean and bright self-righteous anger buoying me. “That’s the part I still don’t get. And I don’t know how to forgive it. We trusted him. We trusted him completely.”

“Well, it’s been two years,” Lee said, searching my eyes, his expression oddly placid, even if I’d have liked for him to get angry, too. “And we’ve spent all this time shutting him out. We’re here now, in a confined space together. Maybe we ought to make use of this time and just ask him for the truth.”

I swallowed back a dozen poisonous responses I could’ve dished out right then. Because my heart just wasn’t in them anymore. The way Lee was being so calm, steady, and matter-of-fact had thoroughly disarmed me.

Without my anger, all that was left was honesty. “What if he explains himself and I let myself forgive him?”

Lee smiled at that and put his hand on my shoulder. “We should go back inside.”

“Yeah.” I didn’t move. “In a minute.”

We sat together while the sky darkened fully into night and the first stars appeared above the fortress of tall evergreens that walled the commune in. I thought about Daniel inside the cabin, probably still hunched over his journals, chewing his pen cap, muttering to himself. Or else torturing himself over whatever we were talking about, knowing it was probably all about him.

And what if he had died today?

There would’ve been so much left unsaid. Questions I’d never have answers to. And a Daniel-sized hole in my heart I’d never be able to fill. I would’ve spent the rest of my days—which hopefully wouldn’t have been long—drenched in a mixture of despair and helpless fury, unable to ever do anything about it. Unable to ever make any of it right.

What would it mean to let my anger go, if I even could? Who would I be without it?

The idea was terrifying. But at the same time, there was a part of me that really wanted to find out.

CHAPTER SIX || LEE

Iwent back inside, deciding then and there that I was about to confront Daniel. I was going to sit the warlock down and ask him point-blank why he’d hidden his identity from us.

It was my fault we didn’t know the answer to that question. I’d spent way too long trying to protect Hunter—trying to protect both of us—by avoiding pain. I’d allowed Hunter to stop me, too many times to count. And all that had done was keep us all locked into a toxic holding pattern.

That stopped tonight. We—I—had no choice. I was doing this for both of us.

What I really needed, though, was to find a way to let Daniel back in. That started with hearing what he had to say to us.

“Lee, don’t,” Hunter breathed, following me through the door. His voice was ragged and fraying, meaning he’d likely caught the general shape of my intentions. “Not yet.”

Well, it looked like Hunter was going to get his wish.

I stopped dead in my tracks the moment I crossed the threshold. Hunter piled in past me then did the same, both of us staring at the warlock.

Daniel had passed out.

He was slumped over his desk, his head pillowed on his folded arms, his pen still resting between his slack fingers. The desk lamp was on, casting warm light over his face and the chaos of open journals surrounding him. His notebook was pinned under one elbow and he was snoring softly.

Beside me, Hunter’s breathing hitched. And I felt the shift in him before I saw it. The jagged edges and tension he’d been clinging to all evening relaxed at once, replaced by something unguarded and vulnerable.

When I glanced over at my twin, the look on his face was one I hadn’t seen there before. Not in two whole years: longing.

Pure, naked longing, stripped bare of any anger or defenses.

Hunter seemed to feel my eyes on him, because his expression shuttered immediately, the walls slamming back into place. His lips twisted into a scowl and his gaze dropped to the floor.

But the damage was done. I’d seen it. And he knew I’d seen it.

For a long moment, neither of us said a word. There was nothing to say, really.

Then I crossed the cabin and gently shook Daniel’s shoulder. “Daniel. Hey. Time to move.”