Still Friends

*Rowan*

Hezzlie falls back to sleep about the time that I need to get up. It’s amazing to me that she didn’t need any help from the Blackwell woman, but it makes me nervous that she has to face off against her at full power in the morning.

I get ready for the day and then go into my office. Wilma has my breakfast ready, and I thank her, but then I’m looking out the window. From here, if I strain my neck just right, I can see around the bend to where Ann and Veronica are practicing magic. It looks like Ann is really struggling, but that’s probably to be expected since she only found out for sure that she was a witch a few days ago, so I seriously doubt she’s had much time in her life to practice using her powers for anything at all. 

I oscillate between watching out the window and finishing my waffles for the next few minutes while I answer mind-link messages from my troops who are patrolling the border between my kingdom and Solomon’s. I’ve just finished eating when I hear the sound of music wafting down the hallway. I hear the violin at first, but soon enough, the sound of my sister playing the piano hits my ears as well, and I know that she is happy–I can tell in the spring and light touch of the keys as the melody develops. It brings a smile to my face, and I realize for the first time I’m smiling when I’m not with Hezzlie, and that’s something I rarely do.

Smiling isn’t something I’ve been used to doing in the last five or so years. Before we were attacked and my father was killed, my mother became a zombie, and Mara was taken, I was always happy–laughing and joking around with my sister and my friends. Once I became king and had an arch nemesis right across the mountainside from me, there was no reason for me to try to have fun and try to cultivate friendships with my old friends or try to make new ones.

Since Hezzlie asked me the other day about my friends, I’ve been thinking more about how much I’ve missed.

As if I’ve summoned him, there’s a knock on my door, and when I say come in, Dean enters. I can tell he’s not sure how to approach me as he saunters into the room. I move to my desk and offer him the chair across from me. A thousand memories of the two of us disagreeing on specific decisions I’ve made over the last few come to mind but none as vividly as when he tried to convince me not to trade Hezzlie for Mara. Ultimately, he was right, but it all worked out in the end. If I hadn’t traded for Mara, I might not have gotten her back at all, and while my mother would still be alive, she’d still be in a mental state that wasn’t benefiting anyone, especially herself.

“Hey,” I say, shaking his hand across the table. He looks at me oddly as he shakes my hand and sits. “What’s going on?”

He looks around the office like he hasn’t been here for a while, but of course he has. It’s almost as if he’s evaluating the situation anew. He’s meeting me again for the first time after having lost me, the same way that I lost my parents, after all these years.

“I need your help,” he finally says. “Abby is my mate, but she doesn’t seem to know it, and I have no idea why. Shouldn’t she? She’s old enough.”

“Is it the moon?” I ask. I don’t know as much about this as I should, honestly. Finding my mate was always the last thing on my mind.

“Maybe,” he says. “But honestly, I’m starting to wonder if there’s something else going on.”

“Like what?” I lean in closer to him, ignoring the mind-link messages I’m getting so that I can focus on what Dean has to say. He’s my best friend, besides being my Beta, and this is clearly very important to him.

He takes a deep breath. “Do you think there’s a possibility that fucking wizard did something to her, too?”

I stare at him a moment, unblinking. “Like what?” I can’t imagine that Abby spent any time in the wizard’s office, but then, I have no idea how any of this magic stuff works, so maybe he wouldn’t have needed to bring her into his office to cast some sort of spell over her.

“Like one where she wouldn’t recognize her mate,” he says with a shrug. “She’s the daughter of a delegate from another kingdom, right? Is it possible they wanted to use her to marry her off to someone else to strengthen their fucking alliances or something?”

I shake my head and shrug. “I honestly don’t know. I can ask Hezzlie. Maybe there’s a way she can detect whether or not another magical spell has been placed on Abby. Or maybe we can ask Veronica.”

“Veronica? That creepy bitch who’s in the back yard torturing Ann right now?” he asks, his nose wrinkled. “Why isn’t Hezzlie out there?”

“She was, but that woman said she didn’t need to train her. She has to come back tomorrow to have some sort of magical face-off.” It makes me nervous just talking about it.

“Magical face off?” he repeats. “That’s alarming.”

“I know. I think Hezzlie can handle it, though. I don’t understand why she’s so powerful when she’s not even a full witch, but she had an immense amount of power before she even contacted the moonstones. Now, I have to wonder if maybe she’s still able to draw on that power.

Maybe she always has been able to, and we just didn’t know it. She was here before she went to live with her father. Is it possible the moonstones somehow bonded with her?

“Rowan?” Dean says my name like I missed something, and there’s a good chance I did. “I asked where Hezzlie is. I want to talk to her about maybe seeing if she can feel Abby out to see if maybe she has some kind of a spell cast on her.”

“She’s still sleeping,” I tell him. “I can mention it to her later.”

He sighs in frustration. “I just feel like every time I turn around, there’s another obstacle between us. It’s not like she’s a girl I have a crush on. She’s my mate. I can feel it.”

“Are you sure no one cast a spell on you?” I joke, but he doesn’t think it’s funny.

“Do you think that’s possible?” he asks, his green eyes wide.

“No,” I tell him quickly. “Of course, I don’t think it’s possible you have a spell on you. From who?”

He shrugs, an overexaggerated gesture. “I have no idea.”

“I think you might be a little paranoid.” I try to say it in a gentle way, but I don’t think it’s helping him any.

“Maybe so. I just have to figure this out. I’m sure you can relate to wanting to be with your mate and not being able to.”

His words stab me right in the heart, and my first reaction is to want to be defensive, but I realize he’s right. All this time I’ve been running from my friends, trying to put some distance between us because I was their king, and they were my subjects, Dean has been doing everything he can to keep that distance closed. He doesn’t feel like we haven’t been friends for the last five years, though I’m sure he’s felt the strain between us.

After a long pause, I tell him, “I understand. I’ll do what I can to help.”

He inhales deeply, too, reaches across the table, and grabs my hand. “Thank you.”

I nod and add this to my list–putting it near the top. Yes, I still have to defend our kingdom from Solomon, but I also have to help my friend. I have to relearn what it means to be a friend, and when I do, Dean will be right there for me, like he always has been before.