Page 112 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

“That’s amazing,” Max said, peering closer, and then grimacing. “And it will be even more amazing after we’re clean.”

They showered together, Rory making sure that Max set the temperature so that it was something he was comfortable with. He shouldn’t burn now, but a lot had just changed in his life, and there was time to let him adjust.

Once they were clean, Rory showed Max how he used flames to dry off and then offered to do the same for Max, whose eyes widened in surprise.

“Yeah, okay.”

He felt a little trepidatious but also overwhelmingly full of trust.

Rory swallowed thickly and extended his flames, letting them flicker over Max. He never would have let them hurt Max even before they’d bonded, but they couldn’t hurt him now.

Max shivered and let out something that was a lot like a giggle. “That tickles.”

Rory laughed and swept his flames over his mate one more time before drawing them back inside himself.

“There. All dry.”

Raising his hands to run them through his hair, Max eyed himself in the mirror.

“That is super handy. I guess it might not feel as great in the height of summer, but it was really pleasant now.”

Rory shrugged. “I’m a phoenix. I always like heat.”

“We’re going to have arguments about the air conditioning next summer, aren’t we?”

Rory shrugged innocently, and Max laughed. He ran his hand along the pattern magically traced into his skin, then reached out and touched Rory’s, finger stroking over the skin in a way that made Rory shiver.

“It’s amazing,” Max said solemnly, gaze full of wonder. “Beautiful.”

“That’s you and me,” Rory told him. “Amazing and beautiful.”

“You’re a sap,” Max said, but his emotions glowed with satisfaction and happiness.

“Your sap,” Rory qualified.

Max rolled his eyes. “Want to read for a bit?”

“I’d love to,” Rory agreed.

They changed the sheets, since Rory could easily pick up on how much Max would prefer that, and then they climbed into bed together. The quiet hum of Max’s contentment only made Rory feel more content himself.

He’d waited a long time to find his mate, and it had unquestioningly been worth it.

Friday, shortly after 8pm, found the usual suspects assembled in the basement. Tom was there, but he glared at David any time the man so much as looked at him, and he was a little to one side, an arm wrapped around his middle, like he was trying to keep his distance from everyone. He was definitely giving off “do not approach” vibes, but in a lonelier way than Max once had. Max had been grumpy. Tom was hurt.

Rory hadn’t hesitated to add his own plea to everyone else’s that Tom would come back, and he’d maybe laid on a little bit of the guilt, letting Tom know how bad he felt that his actions had precipitated such an upset for the whole group.

Tom had sounded a weird mixture of fed up and resigned when he’d texted back.

Tom

You were trying to help Max, and I would never blame you for that. The problem isn’t what you did but all the secrets that got revealed as a result. That’s not you. That’s just a group of people keeping so many secrets it’s hard to keep track.

Rory

But for reasons.

Tom