She was coming. And, knowing Jason, she wasn’t coming alone.
Thank the gods.
Part of him hated that the magic binding them together would pull her into danger, especially when his every instinct screamed to protect her. To keep her far from this place and the likes of Medraut and his men.
The other part swelled with gratitude that he’d been given such a rare gift. The mate bond was stronger than instinct. Stronger than sense. Forged in the very fabric of their magic.
Which meant he had to be ready.
Progress was slow but steady. He counted his breaths, matching his pace to the pulsing rhythm of life in the soil. If he channeled too fast, he'd burn out. Too slow, and he wouldn't weaken the cuffs enough to matter.
Above him, footsteps crossed and recrossed atregular intervals. Voices murmured, and he caught occasional fragments. At least four operatives were in the cabin at all times, rotating in and out with more outside. The wards extended in all directions. Detection spells had been woven right into the wards, so they’d know the moment someone came within range.
All good information, but essentially useless unless he could share it.
The bond cloak slipped again—a longer flicker this time, his strength genuinely flagging. He felt Muriel's response like a physical touch: fury and fear and absolute determination. She was close. Getting closer.
Brandon pulled harder on the natural magic and the spells enhancing the cuffs loosened and fell free. A hairline crack fractured the iron.
It was progress.
The door at the top of the stairs opened again. Medraut descended again, looking pleased with himself.
“It won’t be long now,” Medraut said. No preamble, no explanation needed. He crossed the basement in three strides and checked the ropes with professional efficiency. His hand paused on the suppressant cuffs, and for one terrible moment Brandon thought he'd noticed the weakening.
But Medraut just nodded, satisfied, and headed back to the stairs. “We'll have your mate—and the book—within the hour. Then the real fun will begin.”
The door closed.
Brandon was out of time.
He let the bond cloak drop completely.
The connection blazed between them—his location, his physical state, the layout of the cabin as he understood it, everything he'd learned about the Collectors’ plans. He held it open for ten full seconds, knowing Muriel would feel every detail and convey it to those she’d be bringing with her.
Because if there was one thing he knew, she wouldn’t be coming alone.
Brandon smiled.
Come on then, Muriel. I'll be ready.
19
MESSAGE IN A BOND, OH
MURIEL
They were already movingwhen the bond blazed open for ten full seconds, and Muriel gasped.
Images. Not just emotions—actual information flooding through the connection at a rapid rate. Brandon's exact location overlaid on her mental map like coordinates. The cabin's layout as he understood it. Four kidnappers guarding him at all times. The pattern of wards extending outward. Detection spells around the perimeter.
Everything she needed to find him.
Just that quickly, the cloak snapped back into place and left her reeling.
Well, that’s new.
She’d sensed general feelings and emotions throughthe bond before, but never a high-def stream of images and information like that. She’d have to ask Brandon about that later—once he was safe.