Page 28 of Binding His Fated Mates

“This is fine,” Hunter said immediately. “Thanks.”

Both of us stared at him again. The surly edge to him wasn’t gone, exactly, but it had definitely softened. Maybe he was remembering the fierce joy of the three of us holding a star together, turning our dream into a thing of awe instead of a nightly prison sentence.

I already missed the version of him I’d glimpsed, the way his expression had been blown open and filled with wonder.

The domesticity of it was disorienting. The three of us eating together in the gray morning light felt both profoundly strange and oddly natural.

Against my will, I was reminded of the way we’d planned to propose to him, back when Hunter and I were still one person. We’d been carrying a ring in our watch pocket for months, waiting for the right time. It was just a simple gold band, nothing fancy, but we’d saved up for it for months before our father had died. Hell, we’d even been carrying it the night we were split into two people. And like everything else about us—right down to the clothing we’d been wearing that night—the ring had also duplicated. Except, just like Hunter and I, the rings were also slightly different—mine ended up as white gold, all the vibrancy leeched out of it, the copy coming out slightly wrong. Hunter’s, however, was still the true gold we’d originally purchased. I’d put my version of the ring in a sandwich bag and then stuck it under the large rock behind our cabin, unable to bring myself to throw it away, but also not wanting to look at it every day, either.

I wasn’t sure what Hunter had done with his. We’d never talked about it.

But if things were different, Daniel and I might’ve had breakfast like this practically every morning. Maybe he’d cook and I’d squeeze us glasses of fresh orange juice, because he didn’t like juice from concentrate. And during breakfast, we’d talk about work or make plans for how we’d spend the day together.

How many moments like this could we have had if things hadn’t gone the way they did?

Hunter ate mechanically, his brows knitted together, which meant he was deep in thought, worrying something over in his mind. He was rattled, I could tell.

I kept sneaking glances at Daniel, too. But his face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking. I wondered how the dream was sitting with him, too. I probably could’ve sensed his emotions and maybe even his thoughts through the bond, if I’d wanted to. But prying into his inner world on purpose, without his consent, felt wrong.

My phone buzzed, shattering the silence. Reed.

“Do you have an update?” he asked when I picked up.

“Sort of,” I said, and told him everything we’d discovered last night.

“Good work. In that case, I need you at the bar,” he said, when I’d finished. “Harris can keep an eye on Oliver and the others. But I could use an extra pair of hands opening up.”

“You’re not worried about—”

“From what you’ve just said, it sounds like each pack member is going to manifest magic in specific ways,” Reed cut in. “We already know yours. And seeing into the future isn’t exactly likely to get anyone killed.”

“We’re not sure it works like that. We don’t know anything for sure. The sympathetic manifestations are just our working theory for what’s happening.”

“Still, it would be awfully nice to have a heads-up if I’m about to accidentally set someone on fire or something. I’m not sure how this is affecting me yet, but we can’t afford to keep the bar closed. Have Hunter and Daniel stay on the research.”

The phone still clutched to my ear, I glanced over at Daniel, who was watching me with those unreadable dark eyes. Then at Hunter, who I was certain could hear every word through the phone’s tiny speaker.

“Go,” he said. His voice was gruff. His gaze flicked to Daniel then back to me. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to him.”

Daniel opened his mouth—probably to protest that he didn’t need a babysitter—but something in Hunter’s expression stopped him cold. He closed his mouth and looked down, his cheeks going pink. “Yeah, alright.”

Though I trusted Hunter to keep Daniel safe, I didn’t like the idea of leaving the two of them alone with each other. They hadn’t been alone together in two years. But Reed was right—assuming the premonition wasn’t a one-off thing, it was better if I was there to stop it if another dangerous magical mishap occurred. Especially one that might put an innocent mundane person in danger.

“Okay,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll meet you there before opening.”

When I hung up the phone, I eyed them both. “You’re going to be okay?”

“We can manage for a couple hours,” Hunter said. “Go shower.”

“Uh, sure. Yeah, we’ll be fine.” Daniel shot Hunter a nervous look. “I’m going to keep working on figuring out what’s going on with the pack.”

With that, he took our plates to the sink and then went and sat at his desk without washing them, immediately focusing his attention on the book he’d been reading last night.

“Shower,” Hunter repeated. “Then go to Reed. It’s fine.”

Reluctantly, I went and took the world’s fastest shower. Then, my hair still damp, I came back out to find my twin and Daniel exactly where I’d left them. Except that Hunter was scowling into a book of magic, already seeming bored out of his mind.

“Alright,” I said hesitantly, after I’d dressed and put my shoes on. I lingered next to the door. “I’m leaving now.”