Magic Unchained by Jessica Andersen

morning briefing. If you need me… Hell, I’ll just see you at the briefing.”
    She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d saluted or waited for a dismissal, and was almost pathetically grateful he just turned on his heel and strode away, boot steps echoing in the corridor, then fading when he turned the corner for the
winikin
’s wing. Moments later, his door opened and then thunked shut, leaving behind an echoing silence.
    Suddenly very tired, as if her exhaustion had just been waiting around for her to notice it, she leaned back against the nearest wall and concentrated on breathing. In and out. In and out. In and…
Shit.
How was she going to fix things now? Was it even possible? He might’ve played it off like they could just go back to business as usual, but there had been real pain in his face just now, real regret, disappointment, maybe even a hint of anger. She knew how it felt to want someone who didn’t want her back, and she hated like hell having caused him that pain. He was a good man, had been a good friend.
    Freaking sparks,
she thought bitterly, swiping a hand across her dry, burning eyes. It would’ve been so much easier if she could’ve wanted him.
    Sighing, she pushed away from the wall and turned for her suite, only to be brought up by the feeling of a clammy hand on her ass.
    Damn it, she had hot dogs tucked into her pants, and an apology to make to the last person she wanted to see right now.
    She hesitated, sorely tempted to bag it and head back to her quarters. But that would mean admitting that he still had power over her, which he damn well didn’t. So, muttering a curse under her breath, she yanked the wieners out of her waistband and went in search of Sven, determined to get her thanks out of the way and prove that he’d long ago lost whatever spell he’d once cast over her.
    Nightkeeper or not, he was just a guy.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    Despite her determination to just freaking get it over with, Cara almost wimped out twice on the way to Sven’s suite: once at the entrance to the mages’ wing, and again at his door. Caution said that she was too tired and raw to deal with this now, that she should call it a night and start over in the morning. But the longer she waited, the more important it would seem. A thank-you given in the moment was a toss-off; one twenty-four hours later meant she’d been stewing.
    “Don’t be a wuss,” she muttered. And, clutching the hot dogs in a grip gone slippery with condensation, she knocked hard and fast.
    “It’s open,” he called, voice muffled.
    Blowing out a breath, she pushed through the unlocked door, stepped into the main living area of the three-room suite, and let the panel swing shut behind her. She hadn’t been inside his quarters since her return to Skywatch, and found that the hang-loose decor the place had sported four years ago—heavy on the surfboards, underwater pics, and treasure maps—hadgiven way to a collection of canyonscapes and coyote motifs.
    One of the two bedroom doors was open, and there were sounds of activity within. Through the door, she saw the corner of a bed covered with a rumpled dark blue comforter; a pair of jeans hung off one edge, with a holstered pistol tossed on top. The tableau—a still life done in denim and Glock—threatened to bring a jolt of heat, but she looked away. She had seen plenty of guns over the past nine months; this one wasn’t any different, and neither was the man. He was just another mage, fighter, and teammate. She owed him an apology, nothing more. So when she heard him coming out of the bedroom, she took a deep breath and turned back with her thank-you on the tip of her tongue—
    And froze at the sight of him.
    Wearing sweats that hung low on his hips, with a gray hoodie over his bare torso, unzipped, he wasn’t naked, wasn’t even showing her anything she hadn’t seen before. But it still made a hell of an impact.
    Fresh out of the shower, he was using a white towel to rub