He nearly protested that he’d never been anything less than honest with her, but that wasn’t precisely true. What a difficult line to walk when you were trying to protect people, especially those you loved. “I only want what’s best for all of us.” And why did that seem to be such a difficult place to find?

She softened. “I know. None of this is your fault. You’ll see when your child is born… Sometimes being a parent isn’t a rational thing.”

As Gabriel already didn’t feel fully rational, he could only imagine what adding a child to the equation would do to him. He supposed he had time—well, seven and a half months?—to work himself up to it. Glancing down at Nic, he found her watching him with mingled compassion and amusement, her emerald-green gaze steady. At least they would be in that particular exercise in insanity together.

“Lord Phel?” Asa called. “Your sister is awake. You all can come see her now.”

Gabriel only hoped she’d be somewhat sane.

~ 12 ~

Nic was keenly aware of Gabriel’s reticence, his water magic damp with dread and sluggish as slush, the moon magic dark. “Asa wouldn’t call us over if she’s in a state that would panic your parents,” she whispered, and he nodded, tightening his grip on her hand.

As one, they moved to Selly’s bedside, though Gabriel’s parents took the lead. After an initial kerfuffle where they protested her being strapped down—answered crisply by Gabriel that he was not risking losing her again, especially as this time she might not survive the experience—they settled into soothing and petting her. Selly wasn’t articulate, but she seemed to recognize them, and she appeared to be relatively peaceful, blinking with vague amber-brown eyes at her parents.

“Was it bad?” Nic murmured for his ears only. When he glanced at her, she gave him a sympathetic smile. “Your magic is all muddy.”

His eyes were like black stones, and he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tight, his magic enfolding her also. “Thank you for being here,” he whispered in her ear. “Yes, it was bad.”

She pressed into him, meeting his magic with hers, to warm and brighten his cold, shadowed places, pushing up to her toes to better fit herself against him. “It will be better now. You’re doing the right thing.”

“Keep telling me that,” he muttered back.

“You’re doing the right thing.”

He laughed hoarsely, pulling back just enough to caress her cheek. The magic thrummed intense between them, hot with mutual yearning. “What would I do without you?”

“You’ll never have to find out.”

“Good, because sometimes I feel I’d destroy all the world if something happened to you.”

“Just like Sylus,” she whispered. “My fierce wizard.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead his magic spiked, and he captured her mouth with his, heedless of the company they kept, kissing her with rare ferocity—at least in public—that nearly bruised. As suddenly as he’d taken her mouth, he released her lips, though he still held her close, their faces a breath apart. “I finally understand that bastard, but you’re no helpless Lyndella.”