Cast A Spell (Mages and Mates #4)

3. Otto

Otto

T he gravel crunched under the tires of our rented SUV as we drove up to the main house of Elysium Ranch. It stood tall and majestic against the vast skies and rugged landscape of Wyoming. Its wooden exterior blended seamlessly with the surrounding landscape. The porch stretched the length of the front, framed by large windows that allowed for views of the rolling hills and rugged terrain.

A unicorn in archaic formal attire descended the stairs once we came to a stop. Two more similarly dressed beings joined him and they stood by the car.

“What are they wearing?” Owen said softly.

I shared his opinion, but I’d seen unicorns in their “assembly” attire before. “I told them you considered yourself one of the four musketeers. I guess they wanted you to feel at home.”

Owen snorted and I regretted the quip. Unicorns were proud beings who valued tradition. If he made a joke about their clothing, it wouldn’t go well.

I stepped out of the vehicle, stretching my legs, and took in the sight before me. It was different from Maine, but no less beautiful. Seeing Owen gawk brought back memories of my first assignment. Ottawa wasn’t as glamourous as Rome, but it was markedly different from Philadelphia, and I’d taken in my surroundings like a tourist.

“Close your mouth, Owen, it’s not your best look”

He scowled at me. “Don’t be a tool, bro.”

Laughing, I grabbed my laptop from the back seat. “Just trying to be helpful.”

The first being who’d come down the steps, bowed to me. “Ambassador Hollen, Mr. Hollen, on behalf of Alpha Eisenwald, welcome to Elysium Ranch. The alpha and his sons are waiting to greet you in the great room.”

I clicked the button to open the back hatch and followed our host into the main house. The interior matched the outside, a mix of modern amenities and traditional ranch elements. Colorful rugs and tapestries adorned the walls, illuminated by the natural light streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was tasteful but kept true to its roots as a working ranch. Two guards stood beside a pair of doors to our right. They pulled them open and inside six males stood near a table with food.

They wore outfits similar to our guide, except theirs had more embroidery and fit better. Branimir, the alpha, smiled as we entered. His silver hair was pulled behind him, like he’d tamed his wild mane. Tan and fit, he stood proudly with his sons. His offspring all looked about the same age, except one, who had to be the youngest brother, Lysandor. He was around the same age as Owen and almost twenty years younger than any of his brothers.

“Otto,” Branimir said, walking toward me. We shook hands. “I hope it’s okay if I dispense with the titles. Your father and I never used them with each other.”

“Alpha Eisenwald.” I bowed my head in respect. “Your friendship is a source of joy for my father. I’d be upset if you used my title.”

His laughter sanded away some of my tension. “Wilhelm said you were a smooth talker. Please don’t call me alpha. I am Bran.”

Allowing me to address him as a friend was sincere yet calculated. It announced to everyone the bond between our two races. “You honor me, Bran.” I guided my brother forward. “This is my brother Owen.”

“Owen.” He held out his hand. “First diplomatic assignment. Your father is very proud of you.”

Owen accepted the offer to shake, but only remembered at the last second to show the alpha respect. “A privilege to meet you, sir.”

The alpha’s sons stood close together, like a row of statues, their silver hair shining like starlight and their lavender eyes fixed on us, a reminder of their lineage and power among the unicorns. Only the descendants of Percival Eisenwald possessed such a stunning combination, while others were resigned to more mundane shades of white and gray.

“Come,” Branimir said. “Let me introduce you to my sons.”

He introduced them as a group, gesturing as he named each. I mentally pulled up the ministry’s one sentence summary of each as they stepped forward when their father called their name. Thalion, the eldest, had inherited his father’s leadership and charisma. Cassian was strong and silent, while Varric was known for his intelligence and strategic mind. Theron was charming and outgoing, with a smile that could disarm even the most hardened warrior. And finally, Lysandor, the youngest and most innocent-looking of them all.

Owen went first, and I noticed how he and Lysandor seemed to catch each other’s eye. The pair seemed hesitant to shake, but the moment they touched hands, they froze. I’d seen something similar in Gundhram’s eyes when he’d seen Leo in the dragon palace.

I looked at Owen who had a slight blush on his face from the contact with Lysandor. A small smirk formed on my lips as I made my way over to introduce myself to each brother in turn. My heart paused as I hoped fate had chosen the two youngest for its needs. They continued their silent stare off, oblivious to everyone else in the room. Branimir and Thalion exchanged glances. The father looked surprised and apologetic, the son somewhere between angry and disappointed.

Finally, Owen blinked and Lysandor withdrew his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Lysandor.”

Owen’s voice had been shaky and Lysandor looked confused. Owen turned toward me, but his expression was unreadable. He’d been dismissive about being chosen when Leo and I spoke to him, as if he was certain it wouldn’t be him. Now, faced with the burden of fate weighing on him, his cheeky attitude vanished.

I did my best not to react, which was easy given my conflicted emotions. My premonitions had been right, but I was still unsettled. If Owen was the fourth, then my misgivings should’ve dissipated. They hadn’t. If anything, I was more anxious than ever.

Owen slid down the line, greeting the other brothers. Several times he almost turned his head toward Lysandor, catching himself at the last moment. Moving past Cassian, he almost flinched when he met Thalion.

Thalion’s attitude had softened, but now he studied my brother. Owen stood his ground, but he withered a bit under the scrutiny. Who could blame him? It was like winning the lottery: You knew it was possible, you might even dream about hitting it big, but you never expected it would happen. Throw in Thalion’s muted hostility, and Owen held up well.

A look from Branimir ended the tense meeting.

I started down the row, and while I spent more time with Lysandor, it was to assess his compatibility with Owen. They were both young, with a mischievous spirit. According to our file on him, Lysandor was bright but didn’t like school. He had an affinity for the animals and helped preserve the land with his father.

A perfect guardian, but he and Owen might not mesh so well. My youngest brother was wicked smart and liked to solve difficult problems whether magical, mathematical, or scientific. Perhaps they could bond over his love of astronomy. The symbols on the unicorn tabards included dozens of stars.

I moved on before it got awkward and greeted the next three youngest. Thalion had his gaze fixed on Owen, who kept sneaking glances at Lysandor. Branimir kept looking around the room as if for answers, which, from an alpha, wasn’t an inspiring situation.

Thalion tore his attention off my brother and glared at me like I’d insulted his mother. I had no doubt he expected to be chosen and not his baby brother. How that was my fault wasn’t clear.

“Congratulations on behalf of the Mage Council and the Mage Chancellor on your pending investiture. My father sends his personal greeting and wishes you a long life and many heirs. He hopes our families will remain close for centuries to come.”

Thalion hesitantly accepted my hand, his fingers curling around mine. An electric burst of energy shot through our connection, a spark that seemed to awaken every nerve in my body. His energy flowed into me, mingling with my own and then back to him in an endless loop. As I locked eyes with Thalion, I saw my own confusion mirrored in his gaze. The intensity of the moment left us both bewildered, unsure of what was happening between us but unable to break away from the powerful exchange.

The anxiety that had plagued me for days finally released its grip on my stomach. In its place, a powerful longing surged through me, filling the void with a fierce intensity. I felt Thalion’s emotions brushing against my protective wards; a subtle but undeniable connection tried to form between us. I slammed my will into my walls to keep out anything not mine.

My head snapped around to face Branimir, his wide eyes mirroring my own confusion and shock. I knew then that I hadn’t misunderstood anything—something was incredibly wrong. The earth had forged a connection between Thalion and me. It also connected Owen and Lysandor.

One and only one pairing was required so there’d be no doubt who would be guardian. How had things gotten so messed up? Did the being trying to breach the Great Ward find a way to circumvent the earth magic used to choose the last guardians?

The hush that fell over the room was palpable, a physical weight pressing down on me. I hadn’t let go of Thalion’s hand, and I didn’t want too, either. He was the piece of my soul I didn’t know was missing. My brain froze, unable to process information, yet refusing to let me move on from the sensory overload I was experiencing. There were important implications to Thalion being my mate, but they seemed distant and insignificance.

I withdrew my hand, and the fog cleared from my thoughts. Our mate bond had tried to cement its hold on us, but I hadn’t given in to the pull. I couldn’t.

“What just happened?” Thalion asked, breaking the silence that filled the room.

No one answered him, nor spoke. Only the earth itself could answer, and it was content to leave us searching for the meaning.

Branimir, bereft of his joyous energy, stepped closer to me and Thalion. “I don’t know, but it is imperative we figure it out.”

Who knew Captain Obvious had a brother in Wyoming.