he swatted her hand away.
“Don’t touch me. I’m a familiar, not a pet.” He climbed onto Donovan’s shoulder.
Alice held up her hands. “Donovan pets you all the time.”
“That’s because he’s my warlock. Mine.”
“Martin…” He took the mongoose from his shoulder and set him on the floor. “We’ll have none of that.”
Marty huffed and darted out of the room.
“I’m sorry about that.” He tugged Alice into his lap.
She waved off his apology. “I should have asked his permission first.”
“If it’s any consolation, you can pet me anytime you want. No request for permission needed.”
“Good to know.” She cupped his cheek in her hand, running her thumb across his skin. “Not many shifters get to say they’ve met a super-powerful warlock like yourself, much less that they have permission to pet him.”
A lump formed in his throat at her description of him. She couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Speaking of your powers…” She batted her lashes. “We’ve had several different witches and warlocks cast spells on the creek, trying to fix the problem, but none were powerful enough to have a familiar.”
“Really? I didn’t realize we were so rare.” Not that we was the best pronoun for him to use.
“In this part of the world, you are. Would you mind walking down to the creek with me this morning and giving it a try? I know you’re not a Rainecourt, so it probably won’t make a lick of difference, but we’ve exhausted all our other options.”
“You mentioned the others all confirmed the necessity of a Rainecourt casting the spell. I should be no different.”
“It’s worth a try.” She pleaded with her eyes, and his heart tore in two.
If he refused, she’d believe he didn’t care. If he told her the truth, that he was a worthless stain on his family name, he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eyes.
“Yeah, boss,” Marty called from the doorway and snickered, “it’s worth a try, isn’t it?”
Donovan narrowed his gaze at his familiar before forcing a smile at Alice. “I will do my best.”
They walked hand in hand to the creek, Alice chatting away about all the spells the other witches and warlocks had tried. Donovan had studied spellcasting extensively as a child. Even when it became obvious he’d never have the ability to cast his own, his father forced him to practice with his brothers, congratulating Matthias and Griffin for their successes while reminding Donovan what a disappointment he was.
What little Alice knew of the spells that were tried made them sound like basic witchcraft 101. Things he’d mastered—or would have mastered if he’d had an ounce of magic in his body—by the time he’d turned sixteen.
“Did no one attempt a healing ritual?” He kneeled on the bank, gazing at the water, unable to look at her.
“It’s possible. I don’t know much about casting spells or any kind of magic that doesn’t involve shifting or…”
“Or?” He dared a glance at her, and she wrapped her arms around her middle, giving her head a small shake. “I will attempt healing magic. I sense that’s what was used to bless the creek to begin with.”
That wasn’t a lie. He fully intended to attempt the incantation. The fact he already knew it wouldn’t work because he’d never successfully cast a spell in his life was superfluous.
“What should I do?” She kneeled next to him, grinning, excitement rolling off her in waves.
“If you wouldn’t mind, could you give me some space?”
“Right. Sorry.” She scooted a few feet away. “This is thrilling. I’ve never seen you use your magic before.”
He nodded and hovered his hands above the water, whispering a healing incantation and calling on the spirits of the earth and stream to assist him.
He focused every fiber of his being into the spell. Never in his life had he wanted his magic to work more than this moment. His stomach bubbled, a burning sensation rolling upward to his chest, making his heart sprint.
Something was happening. Was the sensation his magic finally breaking free? Could it be that he simply needed Alice by his side to find a reason to need his magic?
The bubble of heat slid upward, burning the back of his throat. This was it! His magic was finally free!
He burped.
“Excuse me.” Donovan closed his eyes. How incompetent could he be that he couldn’t tell the difference between magic and gas?
Alice giggled. “Huevos rancheros can do that to you, especially when you’re not used to salsa.”
He rested his hands in his lap. “I’m so sorry. I’m afraid