Page 97 of Captivating Magic

“Oh, wait! I have one!” Ebba raced to the mantle and returned with a framed photo. “Here.”

Castor looked ill.

“Her mother,” he ground out, expression tightening. “What’s her name?”

“Beth Monroe,” Wilder said, watching him closely. “Why?”

Castor repositioned the frame for them to see. “The blonde is Abigail, I presume.”

Laszlo’s jaw dropped. How had he never realized Castor was an older, male version of Abbie? He glanced at Ebba, who plunked down in her seat and covered her mouth. Their gazes met, then turned to Wilder.

“You guessed?” Lo asked his brother.

“I came here to ask Ebba’s wolf to see what she could find. When he opened the door, I knew,” Wilder said, his attention never wavering from Castor’s grim face. “You and Beth had an affair, didn’t you?”

“I’d have thought the picture was enough evidence for you. You’re asking for a DNA match?”

“What does that mean for her?” Lo asked. “Wouldn’t she have similar abilities to yours?”

“I don’t know. One would think she’d be powerful, but that’s not how magic works. Sometimes it’s diluted. There are those with witch DNA whose powers never develop.” Castor rubbed the back of his neck as he studied the image. “I can’t believe Beth never told me.”

“How could she? Weren’t you in hiding for years?” Ebba asked. She clasped Castor’s free hand, giving it a squeeze.

Lo’s heart swelled in his chest. She was nothing if not kind, and her innate need to comfort those in need was what he loved most about her.

“Yes. I suppose you’re right.” Castor exhaled a heavy sigh. “How old is she? Abbie.”

Wilder sipped his coffee and swallowed hard. “She would be forty-one next week.”

“Older than Quentin,” Castor mused. His lids slammed shut. “Christ! I need to tell my son he had a sister.”

“Has,” Wilder stressed. “Has a sister.”

The Traveler’s ice-blue eyes were filled with regret as he stared back at him. “If she’s alive, I’ll find her, Thorne. Get some rest. We leave tomorrow morning for the mountain.” He stoodand hugged Ebba. “You won’t be needed on this trip, love. I’ve got it covered.”

EPILOGUE

“Have you heard from Castor or Wilder?”

Dropping the crystal on the map, Laszlo straightened and turned to welcome Ebba with their standard hug and kiss.

“No, Sweet. Still no news.”

Two months had passed with no word from either man. They’d gone up the mountain the day after Spencer’s tribunal and never returned. No amount of scrying or spellwork revealed their whereabouts, and Lo feared the worst.

Ebba’s concern mirrored his. “We should go. I’ve been watching the forecast, and we’re still within the safe-weather window.”

A flush climbed his neck, and her eyes narrowed.

“You already went up there, didn’t you?” she asked. Her voice lacked condemnation, and Lo felt comfortable revealing the truth.

“Yes.” He carried her grocery bags to the kitchen counter and began unloading them. “Alastair, Damian, and I went two days ago. Kyrella helped.”

Mid-process of putting cans in the pantry, she spun to face him and scowled. “Why didn’t you ask me before the shift?”

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, Sweet. You’d already agreed to help when Wilder initially asked. Three nights ago, Francesca’s traveling globe lit up, and Quentin went to Alastair.”

Her expression cleared of ire, replaced by curiosity. “Francesca? Alastair’s granddaughter?”

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