Page 24 of Threadbound

Chapter

Thirteen

Despite knowing better, Bran couldn’t stop himself from going back to the museum, ambling among the thousands upon thousands of jars with their off-color and wrinkled bits of this or that part of human anatomy. A bit of kidney, liver, stomach, a finger with an extra joint, a bone with a calcified tumor, a naturally split tongue…

I’m Lugh-cursed.

Only the Trickster God could be responsible for tying Bran to such a bondmate. Not because he didn’t like Jamie, but because hecould, if he let himself.

Which he definitely was not, because getting any more entangled with a human half-breed was a terrible idea. It just wasn’t one he could figure out how to avoid.

On one of his circuits through the pathology museum, he paused, sensing the now-familiar tingle of Jamie’s presence. A quick glance upward found Jamie standing on the balcony above, his bright blue eyes focused on Bran.

A feeling of inevitability settled on Bran’s shoulders, and he waited where he was, feeling the tension building as the thread drew them closer together. Bran took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart.

A few more measured inhalations and exhalations brought down his pulse, and by the time Jamie walked up to him, he seemed entirely calm.

He wasn’t, his mind racing even as his respiration and heartrate were even and steady.

“You’re back,” Jamie observed, his tone hesitant and uncertain, causing Bran to frown. Had he done something he shouldn’t have? Offended the half-breed in some way?

“Aye,” he answered. “Should I not be?”

Jamie leaned against the open double door-frame between two of the massive, brightly-lit rooms. “Are you trying to learn enough to work here?” he asked.

Apparently people didn’t keep coming back to museums multiple times. “I’m interested,” Bran hedged.

“In what, specifically?” the blond man asked him, his eyes sharp. “I could be more helpful if I knew what you were looking for.”

The question felt like a challenge, and it unsettled Bran even further that he wasn’t entirely certain of the terms of said challenge. He’d never been one to back down, but he liked to know what the rules were first. “I’d still like to get to know you better,” he finally answered, dissatisfied with his own response, but not really feeling like he had another option. At last not one that Jamie was likely to believe or accept.

“You’re here to ask me to dinner again?”

“Aye, if you’ll agree to it.”

Jamie didn’t know what to do with that. Generally, if someone wanted a second date, they’d at least give him a goodnight kiss. He wasn’t looking for sex on the first date—that wasn’t usually something he was into, anyway, since he liked to know a little bit more about the guys he was dating before he slept with them—but he didn’t mind kissing and hand-holding or even making out.

Something to indicate that there was a hint of romantic feeling.

Bran hadn’t done anything like that.

Jamie had thought they’d had a good conversation, and he’d enjoyed Bran’s company, even if he was a little odd, but then Bran had just nodded a goodnight and headed off down the street. Jamie figured Bran just wasn’t that into him—disappointing as that had been—and assumed he’d never see the guy again.

And yet here he was, back in Surgeons’ Hall. Asking Jamie out, again.

Jamie frowned, conflicted. He wanted to go out with Bran again—wanted to do more thango out, if he were being honest with himself. But he didn’t know where they stood, and that made him hesitate.

“Can I ask you something?” he wanted to know.

“Aye.” Those verdant eyes regarded him placidly.

“Are you… super religious or something?”

The slashes of Bran’s eyebrows rose. “I… wouldna say that. Why do you ask?”

Jamie shrugged, his cheeks hot. “Just wondering.”

“Are you?” Bran asked him.

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