Page 57 of Wooing the Wiccan
“Not necessarily, but usually yes. There have been cases when paired souls decided they wanted to separate, but it’s rarely acrimonious. Mostly they both reached a place in their lives where they wanted to be single again.”
I’m not sure I really understand. “Okay, so if they want to be together, they’ll be soulmates, and later in life their paths won’t diverge?”
He beams. “Exactly.”
“So what’s the difference between paired souls and fated mates?”
“Free will.”
Huh. That actually sounds cool. “I can tell I’m going to end up with a lot of questions about your culture.”
Raðulfr gives my hand another little squeeze. “I’ve already said I’ll answer anything you want to ask. Hit me with them.”
“I’ll make a list,” I promise, because my brain has gone predictably blank. “Um… what you said about a translator spell… I mean, I’m not doubting you, but that just seems so different from what I expected to be able to do with magic. Is that something I could learn, or does it come from the elf part of your ability?” It’s mostly a rhetorical question. The way elves and even sorcerers do their thing is hard for me to get my head around. I’m not capable of ever doing what they do—it’s like, I don’t know… breathing underwater. Though less deadly. It’s just not something my body and mind are able to do. A sorcerer can explain to me for hours how they weave power, but it’s always going to be purely academic, because I can’t even watch them demonstrate—only see the outcome. It was a disappointment when I realized that might mean that some of the things they do aren’t going to be possible for me. I’ve been meaning to call Noah and ask about it, since he’s the only human who might actually know, but I haven’t got to it yet.
“Of course you could learn that,” Raðulfr says, surprising—and delighting—me.
“Really?”
He must hear my excitement, because he chuckles. “Yes, really. The type of spellcraft you and I do is very similar—the main difference is how we power it. There might be some elements you’d need to handle differently from how I do it, but overall, it shouldn’t be an issue once you learn how.”
Huh. I guess I made some assumptions… “But it’s not elemental. I mean,” I add when his expression shifts to confused, “the stuff I’ve been learning in the program is all based aroundthe elements. Air, fire… you know. I just thought…” I trail off as the confusion clears up.
“Ah. No, that doesn’t have anything to do with capacity, but rather, security. Stringent guidelines were put in place forwhocould be invited to the program, but also what they could be taught. The knowledge you already have could potentially be extrapolated into a weapon of some kind, but that’s a risk we had to take. Teaching it on such a small scale—candles and water droplets—was the compromise to hopefully prevent anyone from realizing what they could be capable of if they decided to turn supervillain.” He makes an exaggerated face, even as I wonder about his choice of words—a risk they had to take? That makes it sound like the community didn’t have a choice about teaching humans magic again.
Maybe he just means that it was unfair to expect community members with human spouses to let them die after a human lifespan.
“So the program was designed for humans to learn limited magic? But Icanlearn to do more advanced things?” I don’t understand the logic behind that, but I’m not the one running a government. There are probably political reasons for the decision that I’m not privy to. I’m fully aware that our agreement not to keep secrets from each other doesn’t include classified government information—there’s always going to be things Raðulfr can’t talk about.
“That’s right. I can help you work out how to adjust some elven spells, or Noah can teach you some things—or both. Both is probably the best option.”
I nod slowly, already thinking about how much fun this is going to be—and how great it is that I’ll have a much longer life to explore it all.
“I love watching you think about things that make you happy,” Raðulfr announces, his eyes on my face and anindulgent smile quirking his lips. Just the sight of it makes up my mind that we’ve talked enough for one night.
“How do you feel about doing things to me that make me happy?” I give him my best bedroom eyes, and he straightens up immediately.
“Are you sure? I’m happy to take things slow?—”
“Nope.” Screw that idea. “You’ve proved that you’re willing to answer my questions, and we’ve been apart way too long. I want to know what this couch feels like against my bare ass.”
He makes a sound that goes straight to my dick. “Yes. That sounds… I want to know what your bare ass feels like everywhere.”
“Great.” I start to take off my sweater, but he catches my hand with a pained look.
“There’s one thing you need to know first.”
Uh-oh. I search his expression. “Is it bad?” He doesn’t look like it’s good.
“No. Yes. No. Maybe.” He grimaces. “The anatomical differences between humans and elves aren’t limited to…” He gestures to his face.
It takes a second for me to realize what he means, and then my gaze drops to his lap. “You mean you were using a glamor on your dick too?” I blurt the question out before I can think about diplomatic phrasing.
“Yes.”
I swallow. “What are we talking here? Like… tentacles?”
To my relief, he laughs. “No, not tentacles. I can show you?”
