Page 63 of Forbidden Mischief
His face shifts instantly, concern wrinkling the corners of his eyes. He crosses the room, grabbing my shoulder with one hand, grounding me.
“Hey. Look at me, son. Breathe, Zayne. Just breathe.”
“I am!” I snap, tears threatening because I don't know what else to do and I never cry.
Dad’s mouth tightens. “Alice!” he shouts.
She’s already halfway in the room. “What is it?”
“Have you heard from Asher?”
“No,” she says quickly, grabbing her phone and dialing, her brows furrowing. “What’s going on?”
Dad pulls me closer, his arms around my shoulders. It helps. A little.
“Zayne thinks he’s having a heart attack. He’s not, but his body thinks he is.”
“Is that why the lights are flickering and it feels like magic is filling the house?”
“Yes. Did Asher answer?” Dad asks.
“No, and he’s been gone for awhile. I only asked him to stop at the store and get a few things.” She dials the phone again. “He’s not answering. What is going on?”
“They marked each other,” Dad says softly. “And that mark connects them more deeply than anyone realizes.”
Alice’s eyes widen. Her phone slips from her hand and crashes to the floor.
“No,” she gasps, tears filling her eyes as she drops to her knees.
“What?” I ask. “Why does that matter?”
Dad turns me gently, guiding me toward the mirror over the fireplace. I stare, confused, until he brushes the collar of my shirt down. That’s when I see it.
The mark Asher gave me that night when things got so heated is shimmering. Faint. Like moonlight soaked into my skin.
My breath catches.
Dad’s hand stays steady on my back. “That connection is screaming at you right now. Because something isn’t right with Asher.”
The room spins. “No. No, he’s fine. He’s just...taking too long. Maybe his phone died or?—”
“Zayne,” Alice says gently, “You wouldn’t be feeling this unless it was serious. The mark is tethered to his wellbeing. If he’s in pain, your body will respond.”
My knees buckle. Dad catches me, eases me to the couch.
“What do we do?” I whisper. “How do I fix it?”
Dad doesn’t answer right away. He grabs his case of spell ingredients and kneels beside me, sorting through herbs and stones, lips moving silently.
“We need to locate him,” he says. “But I need something of his. Something he wore recently. Or bled on. Or?—”
“His hoodie,” I say, scrambling up. “It’s in my laundry. He threw it in there this morning when we went to school.”
Alice races upstairs and returns with the soft, dark hoodie that smells like pine and heat and the woods behind our school.She clutches it, murmuring as she hands it to Dad. He lights a candle without even moving. The flame jumps straight into being.
I feel like my heart’s going to explode, and I keep checking my phone. No new messages. No call. No “hey, babe, I’m fine just ran into a bear while on my run lol.”
Dad frowns. “He’s alive. But… I can’t get a lock on him.”
