Page 95 of Captivating Magic

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“Wilder?”

The arrival of his brother confused Laszlo. He’d been reclusive since Abbie’s fall, never intentionally seeking out anyone. Yet here he was, hat in hand—literally—and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“What is it?” Ebba asked, expressive face filled with concern.

Lo was positive she avoided asking his brother if he was all right, knowing the answer she’d get would be a resounding no.

“I have a favor to ask you, Ebba,” Wilder said, continuing his embarrassed shuffle. “You can say no, but I hope you’ll consider it.”

“Of course.” She patted Lo’s chest as an indication she wanted down. Once free, she hugged Wilder. “What can I do?”

A fond smile flitted across his too-solemn face, but it never reached his eyes. “You may want to wait until I explain before saying yes,” he warned.

With an impatient wave of her hand, she led him to the kitchen table and shoved the basket of muffins in front of him. “You can tell me over breakfast. Do you still take your coffee black?”

“How does she know how he takes his coffee?” Castor asked in an aside. “Should we be worried your brother’s honing in on our girl?”

“I hate you,” Lo growled, equally as soft.

With a sputtered laugh, Castor returned to the kitchen to fetch a coffee cup and the platter of bacon. After setting it down in front of Wilder, he said, “If you want anything else, you’ll have to conjure it yourself.”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“If this is family business, I can leave you to it.”

“Actually, I’d like you to stay, Mr. Castor,” Wilder said. “I’m beginning to suspect something else was off about the day our magic went on the blink and could use another perspective.”

They gathered around the table and waited for Wilder to make his request. He relayed the tale of his and Abbie’s climb, pausing now and again to swallow his grief. When he got to the part where the equipment failed, he buried his face in his hands.

Lo, Ebba, and Castor waited him out, letting him finish in his own time.

“With no magic, I couldn’t save her,” Wilder said roughly. “And as Lo knows, we never found her body.” He turned beseeching eyes to Ebba. “It’s been a long time, and it could be a fool’s errand, but will you search in your wolf form?”

“She’s not a fucking rescue dog,” Lo snapped.

Ebba placed a soothing hand on his wrist. “I’ll do it.”

He shook his head. “No way. You have zero climbing experience. How will your wolf manage those mountain passes alone? It’s stupid to try.”

“I’ll be with her,” Wilder assured him. “I’ll rig up slings and extra safety measures. We’ll go when the weather conditions are perfect.”

“You’re risking her life! Wasn’t Abbie’s death enough to tell you that fucking mountain is too dangerous?” Laszlo retorted.

His brother recoiled, and the hopeful light his eyes held was snuffed out. The standard bright amber color was tarnished brown.

Ebba shot up from her chair, an avenging angel with flashing eyes and a fierce growl. It shocked Lo to realize her fury was directed athim.

“Get out!” she snapped.

“What?”

“How fucking insensitive can you be?” She shoved his chest. “I said go! You can come back when you apologize to Wilder for being a dick.”

“Jaysus, I think I love you, Ebba James,” Castor said with a broad, appreciative grin. “Fierce and beautiful, what an intoxicating combinat—I’m shutting up now,” he assured her when she turned her anger on him, adding a mimed lip zip.

Lo shoved back the chair as he rose. “You’re being ridic?—”

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