“The one he walked into,” Zara amended. “But I don’t like the idea of anything messing with his free will. Even if it’s made him more charming.”
“He was charming before,” I argued automatically, then winced. “I mean?—”
“I know what you mean.” Zara felt around until she could grab my hand. “I know how to break the spell.”
“You do?” I gasped, my words going up a notch.
“Aye, I did some research. It’s a binding spell you did. The most important part of undoing it is that the original caster must unbind.”
“Original caster,” I repeated, relief filling me. “So… me.”
“Afraid so.” Zara’s mouth quirked. “You break it, you buy it, etcetera.”
“That’s … fair.”
“It’s simple enough. Uses breath and intention. No eye of newt or toenails of exes required.”
“Thank the stars,” I muttered. “I don’t think Avery would give us hers if I asked.”
Zara snorted. “You’ll stand in front of him,” she said, slipping into her practical-teacher voice. “You’ll own what you did. Then, if he agrees, you’ll say this.” She hesitated. “Do you want me to say it out loud once, and you repeat? It’ll stick better.”
“Yes, please,” I said, palms suddenly clammy.
She cleared her throat, then spoke in a low, measured cadence, the syllables rolling rich and old.
“Words I wound, I now unbind,
By star and breath, by heart and mind.
By your consent and my regret,
I unbind this spell. Our fates reset.”
Energy prickled along my arms just hearing it.
“You’ll add his name,” Zara continued. “And yours. Tie it specifically to the spell you were playing with that night.”
I sighed. “I really am an eejit.”
“A talented one,” she said dryly. “Liora, listen to me.”
I turned to her, waiting for whatever truth bomb she was about to drop on my head.
“This isn’t about punishing you,” she said. “It’s about making sure whatever grows between you and that man is clean. If he tells you he loves you after this—and he will,” she added, so matter-of-fact my heart tripped, “you’ll know it’s his choice. Not some cosmic compulsion.”
Tears threatened again. “And you’re… okay with that? With me loving him?”
Her expression softened. “I want you happy,” she said simply. “If that happiness comes with broad shoulders and a fondness for trees, who am I to argue?”
A watery laugh escaped me. “Z.”
“Go on then.” She shooed me with a little flap of her hand. “He’s probably pacing holes into his floor worrying about you. I’ll be fine here with Mitch and some paracetamol. If I need anything, I’ll shout.”
“You sure?” I hesitated.
“Yes. Now go break the spell and fix your love life, you numpty.”
“Bossy,” I muttered, but my heart felt lighter than it had in days.