Page 65 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

Max nodded. “I know what you mean. I don’t think you and I approach things the same way, exactly, but looking forward and focusing on Evie and the store was the only way I got through my parents’ death. If all I’d done is thought about how they’d been taken away from us too soon and it wasn’t fair, I might have been nothing but angry.” He shrugged. “It was a terrible accident, and it was no one’s fault. I had to learn to let that go so that it didn’t poison everything moving forward.”

“That’s smart,” Rory told him.

“That’s therapy,” Max countered, though his lips had quirked up.

“I’m glad you were able to get help,” Rory told him earnestly. The mythical shifters could perhaps have benefited from a therapist over the years, though they seemed to have mostly managed. “Life has taught me that the world is so vibrant because there’s so much change. We lose people, which is often terrible and sad, but new people are also born or come into our lives right when we need them. Our experiences shape and change us. We’re not static. And that’s terrible and wonderful.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Max sighed. “I think I don’t like the idea of fate because then I can’t help but ask if that means that my parents were fated to die like that. And if so, why? For no reason? So that Evie and I would learn what it was like to be orphans? I don’t like anything about that.”

Rory made a face. “Oh, no, I can see how that would be hard to handle.” He thought about it for another minute. “This is all my personal opinion, but I don’t think it’s as simple as that. I don’t think people balance off one another in some sort of eternal ledger like that. We live in a flawed, imperfect world, and I think sometimes good things come out of terrible things. Sometimes, bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people, and it can all be very frustrating. I think that actually argues for the existence of free will.”

“But you also believe that we’re mates,” Max pointed out.

Rory nodded. “I believe that we’re highly compatible and that we could choose to be together, if we wanted to be. And yes, I believe that I was nudged here so that I could meet you and that connection could be given the chance to form—if we both want it. But we’re not compelled to choose one another. You get to decide what you want.”

“We get to decide,” Max argued.

“We,” Rory amended. Only he’d made his decision about the man pretty much the moment he’d met him. He continued, “You know I think there are… magical nudges. But I don’t know if everyone gets them but most aren’t attuned enough to hear it. Or maybe it’s not everyone for some reason. Or is it possible what I think of as a nudge from the Magic is just my intuition picking up something that most people miss? I suppose so. In any case, I don’t think there’s one big power calling the shots.”

“You don’t believe in a god?” Max asked.

Rory shook his head. “Not as such. I do believe in the Magic, but I don’t think it has a god-like sentience. I think it’s kind of unknowable, which I guess some people consider their gods. But I don’t think it’s either all-powerful or all-knowing.”

Curiously, Max asked, “Do you believe that if you prayed to the Magic, it would hear your prayers and grant them?”

Rory shrugged. “I don’t think so. I mean, I do believe it’s brought me to my mate, which is something I’ve wished for endlessly—but it took a long time. Would you see that as it fulfilling my prayer or wish?”

Max huffed. “Hmm. Yeah, even if you’re right about this whole mate thing, how would you ever prove if it happened because of something specific? You could argue that what seemed like way too long for us was a perfectly reasonable timeframe for some unknowable power.”

“Exactly,” Rory agreed.

He did believe in the Magic, but it had always felt to him like things had come together when they were supposed to. Max couldn’t be his mate before Max existed, now could he? Had there been other possibilities over the centuries? Chances that Rory had missed for other possible mates? Maybe. But now he couldn’t imagine anyone other than the man before him. But that still didn’t mean Rory had figured this out correctly.

“Maybe this is all coincidence,” Rory admitted. “Maybe some higher being gave me a nudge. No matter how it happened, I’m here, and I’m happy about that.”

Max smiled again. “I’m glad. And I’m not unhappy,” he hastened to clarify. “I’m just… thinking about it all, okay?”

“Take your time,” Rory assured him. “I came into this hoping for a mate. You had everything sprung on you like the wildest surprise. There isn’t a timeline. I’m happy simply spending time with you.”

“Me, too,” Max said, sounding slightly surprised but pleased, and that made Rory smile.

They lapsed back into comfortable silence, listening to the music and eating cookies. Rory gazed around himself constantly, enjoying the splendor of the leaves around them, the trees in various shades of reds and oranges and yellows and browns. It shouldn’t work, yet somehow, it always did, like nature’s whole purpose was to unite disparate beings into a harmonious whole.

Chapter Thirteen

Max

Ever since Rory had come into Max’s life, it felt like it had been turned on its head. The death of his parents had rearranged his entire life, and since then, he’d gotten a bit complacent. Maybe it was no surprise he didn’t quite know how to react to this new upheaval.

But unlike the death of his parents, Rory’s appearance had brought so many positive things into Max’s life.

In the week since they’d visited Mr. Jones, the shop had been further transformed. (Although there were still rude customers who called and demanded books that didn’t belong to them or wanted spells instantly as if Max were a computer.) It now always smelled like pumpkin spice, Alex had redone the window display to be full-on Halloween themed, and little decorations had snuck their way into the store day by day until it looked incredibly festive.

Rory regarded everything with the biggest smile on his face, and Max had slowly come to the realization that he’d put up with as many decorations as the man wanted to put that look on his face.

(What was Christmas going to look like?)

As Rory had predicted, Alex had been delighted by the idea of taking on more responsibility and being able to work on weekends when Rory and Max went back to Mr. Jones’s to work on the spellbooks. (Thankfully, this translated easily enough into the idea of a large private collection to be catalogued.)