Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(51)

“Me too, Precious. I only saw your life from the outside looking in, when I wanted to be right in the middle.”

I paused, narrowing my eyes on him. “Wait . . . Did you literally watch me over the years, Stalker?”

His first real smile in days graced his lips. “When my magic bloomed, and I figured out how to use transport magic without checking in, I kept an eye on you. I had to make sure you were safe.”

He was two years older than me, which meant he’d been watching me all that time and I’d never known. “Keeping my distance was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done,” he promised me, “but I had to play Rafael’s game for as long as possible. He wanted me to wait for you to bloom and then get close enough to give him updates on your magic.”

“Are you sure he doesn’t know about our bond?” Rafael had a plan, we were both sure of it, and it started with Logan watching over me at Weatherstone. But what was the next part?

Was he waiting to find out about my affinity?

Logan shook his head. “I don’t know how he’d know about the bond . . . I’ve never told him. He has been encouraging me to stay near you and elevate your magic. Fuck, he’s half the reason I avoided you last year. If Rafael wanted us closer, then it couldn’t be good for either of us.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Paisley!” Mom shouted from the dining room. “Lunch is getting cold.”

“Coming, Mom,” I replied, but I wasn’t planning on moving until Logan answered my last question.

He knew it as well, his smile growing. “After what happened in the graveyard, when our magic combined and created pure power, I decided I was done hiding in the shadows. It was growing harder to keep you safe, and every time you were in danger, I’d lose my fucking mind. I was always near you, Precious. Your own personal stalker. The only difference is now you know about it.”

My snort of laughter echoed around the room. “I can’t tell if that’s romantic or terrifying.”

Logan shrugged. “No reason it can’t be both.”

Right. There was absolutely no reason.

He started to lead me toward the dining room, and I found myself asking a question that I immediately regretted. “What really killed your mom, Logan?”

As I finished speaking, Mom appeared in the doorway, her face drained of color. She’d heard my tasteless question. “Only one person can tell us that,” Logan said shortly, watching Mom closely. “And she’s standing right here.”

“Paisley,” Mom whispered, pale and shaking, “what’s he doing here?”

If only she knew that my mate was the least of our problems. “We have a lot to talk about,” I told her. “And Logan is, and always will be, part of my life and what’s happening to me.”

Her gaze flickered toward the dining room. “It’s too dangerous for them to know,” she said, her tone urgent.

“Half of them already know,” I replied with a small cringe, hoping I hadn’t doomed us all.

“And they’re in danger either way,” Logan said, always having my back. “Keeping them in the dark is limiting all the ways they can protect you and themselves. Not to mention they could unintentionally make it worse.”

Mom wavered on her feet, but she got herself under control before she collapsed. She took a few more moments—looking between Logan and me—to decide where she fell on the situation. Not that it mattered, the choice had really been taken out of our hands. And she knew it. With a nod she croaked, “Okay, let’s get this done.”

We followed her into the dining room, and as Logan came into view, Dad shot to his feet. “What the Hel, Paisley?”

Mom waved him down, and his trust for her was so implicit, he didn’t question the action, dropping back into his seat. “Logan’s not our enemy today,” she said, voice growing stronger with each word. “Paisley believes he’s on her side, which means he’s on our side.”

“I will personally believe that when I see it,” Jenna grumped. “He’s probably playing games with her to enact whatever revenge plan Rafael has in the works.”

Logan’s growl shut the room down as he reminded everyone present that he was one of the most powerful warlocks in the world. “You can insult me all you want,” he rumbled, words slow and biting, “but never question my feelings for Paisley. We’re bonded by magic and love. She was it for me from the moment I met her, and just because she grew up with you doesn’t change the fact that she’s mine. I will kill and die for her. She’s my mate. Mine.”

His magic swirled, and all of us felt a subtle but powerful slam against our own. Mine piped up like a puppy getting a treat. All excited and shit. As everyone stared open-mouthed, Logan pulled out a chair and gently deposited me in it. It was hard not to collapse, but I didn’t want to reveal, just yet, the full extent of my fatigue.

Logan grabbed a plate and, ignoring everyone, asked me, “What do you want to eat, Precious?”

He cared for me in a way that we’d grown up watching Dad do with Mom, and I could feel the tension easing in the room. “I love everything from Larry’s.” I shot him a cheeky smile, and his chest swelled as he got to work dishing me up food. My family still hadn’t moved, watching us closely, as if cataloging every movement.