Accidental Bonds (Elemental Bonds, #1)

by Marie Reynard

The air around Victor quivered. His awareness pulled taut, magic shimmering over his skin like constantly flickering lights. He took a step forward, some kind of gravity demanding he get closer, its lure a bone-deep calling.

One eye no longer able to convey the full force of her unimpressed disapproval, Lady opened the other. “Don’t look at me that way. It’s not like I’m going to rub myself all over him.” Even if he’d been ludicrously hot and had checked Elijah out before he’d realized who he was. Even if his energy mingled with Elijah’s magic with more ease than it had any right to. Getting involved with shifters was not on Elijah’s to-do list.

He didn’t want to contemplate what it said about his love life that someone’s lack of interest was rapidly developing into a turn-on.

“With all due respect, Victor. Alpha. If you bounce your leg another goddamn time, I will not be responsible for my actions. Actions that I will carry out with love and respect.” He’d then implied, with the graceful subtlety only Kade was capable of mustering, that Victor needed to get laid. Which was ridiculous.

His wolf agreed there was something wrong, though it had absolute faith in Elijah being able to fix things, an opinion Victor couldn’t cosign.

“I’ll leave you to get yourself prepped for Victor,” Kade said. “He’ll come for you whenever you want him to.”

“Everything ready?” Victor’s wolf was in control if the hint of a growl in his voice was anything to go by or the way his lips curled to show his teeth—too rapacious to be a smile. He hadn’t moved a muscle, yet some primitive part of Elijah’s brain coiled, ready to run. The glint in Victor’s eyes said he’d like nothing more than a good chase. No, definitely not human tonight. And whatever hang-ups Victor had about mages, his wolf seemed to disagree. Elijah didn’t speak until he was in front of Victor, less than an arm’s length away. His magic tried to ignite in response, but he kept it tamped down. “Everything but you.”

Elijah wasn’t sure which was worse: the version of Victor that held him at arm’s length and glared with suspicion or this one who leaned forward and inhaled deeply before asking in a teasing voice, “Anything else you want?”

He took one last look at the pack bonds and found, in their midst, a ghost of a thread between himself and Victor, faint and undefined. The temporary connection the ritual had established between them.

With a shaky hand, he dragged his fingers through the carefully drawn lines. Victor’s breath hitched as he smeared and smudged them, revealing faint purple beneath. Elijah squinted, and the color vanished, leaving nothing but tan skin. His vision must have been bleary, the aftermath of all that magic making him see things.

Only when a fatigue-riddled corner of Elijah’s mind commented, Well, that’s a shame, as Victor buttoned his jeans did Elijah notice he was staring.

It’d fade with time, but given how much power had been in that ritual, there’d always be a remnant. Their magic and energy entwined, written in the earth and trees, the stars and sky. Centuries from now, a mage might walk through this clearing and sense those traces, just as Elijah sensed, under everything else, that this was the clearing where Victor’s ancestors had first made the pack wards, had first used their bond to create the latticework that spiraled outward from this central point.

“You should stay,” Victor said, voice so low it had Elijah leaning in to hear him. Then he added, “Just until you’ve gotten some sleep.” As if that needed clarification.

Victor’s eyes bore into him, the weight of his gaze lingering for an eternity. Then he pulled Elijah closer still, and for one bewildering moment, it felt like he was nuzzling against Elijah’s ear, savoring his scent, but that had to be the fatigue talking again. Or perhaps Victor’s wolf had regained control.

Elijah would have liked to say he got himself to the pack house, but he never would have made it on his own. Victor was taking most of his weight. And while he wasn’t entirely stable himself, he refused his betas’ offers to take Elijah from him, though one of them did grab Elijah’s bag.

Besides, this was a nice bed. He stretched again, enjoying the caress of sheets on his skin, basking in the shifter energy infused there. He was undoubtedly ruining it for Victor with the scent of magic, but he let himself enjoy it for a few minutes longer, let himself drift in the residual effects of the ritual, the memory of Victor’s energy moving through him. Eyes closed, he ran his hands over the bed, and a tendril of energy stirred, reaching for him. It settled into his body and his bones; it wove itself into him, an echo of the connection from the night before, intoxicating even though it was faint.

“Elijah,” he said with a shit-eating grin. “After the way you went at it last night, I thought you and Victor would want to stay in bed for the rest of the day.”

“Where is he? I should speak to him before I go.” “He’s not up yet. Seems like you wore him out last night. But don’t worry, he’ll be up for you again soon.”

When he passed through the wards, they stroked over him, tugging on him. The sheer amount of his magic in them made them feel more like home than he’d been prepared for. He couldn’t sense them the same way Victor could, but they also weren’t foreign to him anymore.

Kade laughed and leaned against the counter, enjoying this far too much. “So, how was it? It had to have been good if the first thing you did afterwards was drag him to your bed.”

“You care what he thinks now?” “Of course not. But he was a guest. The least I could do was show him some respect.” “Respect. Sure. Carrying him to bed, undressing him, and tucking him in was super respectful. And I had no idea respect caused you to get so growly when anyone else tried to help.”

“Can you honestly tell me it didn’t feel right?” Kade’s gaze was knowing. Victor scowled but couldn’t deny it, not in a way Kade would believe. It had felt right; that was the problem.

Elijah’s unwillingness to take advantage of that was inconsequential; it didn’t make Victor’s wolf any less susceptible to magic. It didn’t change how satisfied his wolf had felt seeing Elijah asleep in his bed. Maybe if he’d only been feeling gratitude for what Elijah had done or protectiveness toward someone helpless within his territory, but there’d also been a contentment curling in his chest that was distinctly proprietary at the sight. It had been paired with a certainty that, if his wolf had its way, the next time he undressed Elijah, the mage would be awake and returning the favor.

The way his energy had intertwined with that magic had been undeniable—two parts of the same whole. Destined to be together.

When he’d woken, his wolf was entirely too smug with the knowledge that Elijah was still there, in their territory, waiting for them.

As he’d passed Elijah’s chair to take his own, he caught traces of earth, snow, and magic, mixed with Victor’s scent, blending in with his pack’s disturbingly well. Kade’s scent was on him too, something he was sure had been deliberately done to provoke him.

He closed his eyes and refused to think about it. Refused to believe one additional scent made his bed and his room seem emptier. That an absence was a tangible thing.

His wolf didn’t like that idea; the thought of Elijah doing that with anyone else caused a growl to build in his throat. Though it wasn’t opposed to those rituals in general. Victor tried to convince himself it was because his wolf wanted to have the best wards possible, whatever they needed to do to get them, not because it wanted Elijah.

“Fuck you guys,” he said over his shoulder. “Not interested,” Kade called after him. “But I know a shop where you’ll find sage, tarot cards, and someone who might be.”

“Lady of Dread and Slaughter, Lady of the East, Female Devourer, Mistress of the Oracle,”

There was another flicker of hesitation, and then Elijah’s hand grazed over the bare skin on Victor’s neck, his fingers slipping under the edge of his T-shirt. His thumb rested against the notch of Victor’s collarbone in a position that would have been threatening if it didn’t feel so much like a caress.

A warm hand came to rest on his neck, and he jumped, startled out of the beginning of his trance. His magic jumped as well, and the hand was jerked away. Elijah glanced up at Victor. Part of him wanted to check if anyone else was around, but they were alone, and he’d recognize that energy anywhere.

“You’re not bad though. For a mage. Do you know what you smell like?” “Magic?” “Beneath that.” “More magic?” “Earth and snow.” Elijah wondered if the earth scent was connected to his affinity for earth-based magic, but Kade was already jumping to a new topic.

“Bond, not fuck.” “Don’t they go hand in hand?” “Sometimes, but those aren’t the body parts I’d pick.”

“Shifters who are highly compatible have scents that complement each other. There’s this way they combine, something about them, that’s perfect. Not that either scent is incomplete or lacking without the other. But together, they’re better, fuller, almost sublime.”

“So you can smell when two people are compatible?” Kade nodded. “Sometimes, if a shifter’s head is so far up their own ass their nose isn’t functioning properly, the people closest to them will notice it before they do.”

Elijah laughed, good-natured and genuine. The sound settled in Victor’s chest.

The idea that Kade wasn’t enough, that Victor was who Elijah needed, shouldn’t graze down his spine and curl in his stomach. It was absurd; he knew that, but the instinct to be the one to protect his pack drove him. “Just tell me if you need anything else.”

Kade leaned in and said, under his breath, “You’re dangerously close to smiling right now. It’s pretty disgusting. I can’t even look at you.”

She’d also been insistent that it was for Victor’s mage, but Elijah didn’t need to know that.

Victor had to stop himself from telling Elijah he could read them, take them, whatever he desired.

Victor’s misgivings about showing him the attic were forgotten. There was no question in his mind: Elijah belonged there. Face flushed, eyes radiant, mischief written in the quirk of his lips, Elijah looked at Victor. “What else have you been hiding?” Victor’s stomach clenched with how much he wanted.

Had his wolf been in control? He hadn’t thought so. But then, it wouldn’t be the first time it had tried this bullshit. Though it felt so different with Elijah. It felt like something both Victor and his wolf craved.

Resolve formed in Elijah. “We’ll figure this out. I swear to you. We will fix this. We’ll protect your pack. No matter what.” Victor nodded like he believed him—maybe more than Elijah believed in himself—and that was an immense responsibility to bear.

With the moon waxing, his wolf made itself more known, and it was doing more than enough thinking about those incidents for both of them. It didn’t like Elijah staying away from them, even for forty-eight hours. The constant urge to keep him close, to get him on pack territory, to not let him leave, played like endless TV static in Victor’s mind. His wolf was unequivocal about its desires; Victor only scowled as he read Elijah’s message because it meant he’d found nothing else to try.

We can take energy from any creature, but if everyone involved isn’t getting equal benefit, there are consequences. The magic isn’t as strong or stable. It’s difficult to be truly reciprocal with an animal.” “So shifters replaced familiars?”

“She adopted you?” “Pretty much.” “She’s a smart cat.”

He inhaled, getting a good hit of Elijah’s scent. And for one moment, he was lost in it, lost in that earthy, snowy fragrance and the feeling of home that came with it. It’d been a week since he’d truly scented it, the pile of sheets on his dresser a poor substitute, and it was hard to convince himself he hadn’t missed it, hadn’t been waiting to get Elijah here so he could have more. Hard to remember the reasons he shouldn’t pull Elijah closer and bury his nose in his neck until he was drowning in him. Hard to pretend it was just his wolf craving that.

The pull toward Elijah was electric, magnetic, divine. Maybe it was the heady aftermath of the ritual, or he was drunk off relief and gratitude, or his wolf had control. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t tear his gaze from Elijah, couldn’t even think of letting him go. Heart hammering, his entire body thrumming with anticipation, he leaned in closer, so close their exhales mingled. His hands settled on Elijah’s hips, eyes flickering to his mouth. Elijah’s fingers curled tighter against his neck, pulling him in, his grin effervescent and unrestrained.

Elijah was meant to be there, savoring the night air, the clean breeze coming through the forest, free from the taint of decay. Victor couldn’t get over how right he looked. An idea took root inside him. Maybe he could allow himself to have this, and it wouldn’t prove he was weak. It might be okay for him to be close to magic, as long as it was Elijah. If Elijah let him, if Elijah wanted to stay, wanted to be with him, with his pack.