Page 3 of Discovered Magic
“I’m good. Thanks.” He wasn’t, but it had nothing to do with food.
“If this is family business, I can leave you to it,” Castor said.
“Actually, I’d like you to stay, Mr. Castor,” Wilder replied. “I’m beginning to suspect something else was off about the day our magic went on the blink, and could use another perspective.”
Once they were settled, he detailed the climb, the emptiness where his abilities should’ve resided, and his abject failure to catch Abbie when she’d needed him the most. He did his damnedest to hold it together, but when he reached the moment she’d slipped, he dropped his face into his hands.
They didn’t rush him or insist on filling the quiet.
“With no magic, I couldn’t save her,” he finally said. “And as Lo knows, we never found her body.” He looked at Ebba, voice raw. “It’s been a long time, and it could be a fool’s errand, but will you search in your wolf form?”
“She’s not a fucking rescue dog,” Laszlo snapped.
His anger was justified. Hell, Wilder would feel the same if the situation were reversed, but his last bit of hope was hourglass sand slipping through his fingers.
“I’ll do it,” Ebba said, placing a calming hand on his brother’s wrist.
Wilder’s heart quickened, causing a deafening pounding in his ears. Uncertain what he would’ve said, probably a weepy thank you, he was nevertheless cut off by his brother’s indignation.
“No way,” Laszlo argued. “You have zero climbing experience. How will your wolf manage those mountain passes alone? It’s stupid to try.”
“I’ll be with her,” Wilder blurted, somewhat desperately. “I’ll rig up slings and extra safety measures. We’ll go when the weather conditions are perfect.”
“You’re risking her life! Wasn’t Abbie’s death enough to tell you that fucking mountain is too dangerous?”
Wilder flinched. The words stripped him bare. It wasn’t as if he needed the fucking reminder. He lived it every damn day. He dropped his gaze to the table, seeking stability in a world gone mad, and the weight in his chest was heavier than granite.
Laszlo was right, leaving Wilder unable to argue the point. And he sure as shit couldn’t defend himself.
Ebba was on her feet in a second. “Get out!”
Wilder was halfway out of his chair when it registered she wasn’t yelling at him. All her focus was on Laszlo, and his disbelief was priceless. Had the situation been less dire, Wilder might’ve laughed.
“What?” Laszlo’s brows were at his hairline.
“How fucking insensitive can you be?” She shoved him. “I said, go! You can come back when you apologize to Wilder for being a dick.”
“Jaysus, I think I love you, Ebba James,” Castor said, grinning appreciatively. “Fierce and beautiful, what an intoxicating combinat—” He caught sight of her death glare. “I’m shutting up now.”
When the man mimed locking his lips and tossing the key, Wilder fought a second laugh. It was such an Abbie move. But he curbed the impulse and prepared to step in to defuse the fight no one wanted.
Yet Laszlo, once riled, was hard to calm. “You’re being ridic—” he began.
Wilder kicked him under the table.
“Don’t say it,” he warned. “Trust me, man. You don’t want to go there.”
“No. By all means, Laszlo, say what’s on your mind,” Ebba cut in, crossing her arms.
Both Castor and Wilder frantically shook their heads, trying to signal him to abort with a slicing motion across their throats, but Laszlo forged on, stubborn fucker he was.
“You want me to tell you I think you’re being ridiculous?” he demanded. “Fine. I do.”
“Because I refuse to allow disrespect in my home? Or because I intend to help your brother?” she challenged.
“The second one.” Laszlo’s voice grew softer. “I love you, Ebba. I don’t want to see you risk your life on an unstable mountain. We’ve searched.” He turned to Wilder. Waiting.
But Wilder stayed quiet, unprepared to give up on Abbie.
