Magic Unchained by Jessica Andersen Page A

face.
    He exhaled. “I can’t promise to change. I want to say that I’ll be there for you… but it would be a lie.”
    She didn’t know when the angry heat had faded. All she knew was that she was suddenly cold, almost numb. “Because of the writs.” The Nightkeepers’ code spelled out a mage’s duty to act first for the gods and mankind, then his king and the other magi and on down, with family near the bottom of the list.
    He shook his head. “The writs aren’t the problem. I am. I can’t… I’m just not the kind of guy who sticks around. And as much as I wish I could change that—and by the gods, I do; I swear it—I can’t make myself stay put.” He spread his hands. “This is who I am.”
    It was stupid to be surprised or annoyed, yet she was suddenly both. “Bullshit. That’s a cop-out. People can change if they really want to.”
    “You’re thinking like a human. Be a
winikin
instead.”He tapped his forearm, where he wore the talent marks that said he was a warrior-translocator, capable of fighting, strategizing, and moving things with his mind. Most prominent, though, was the glyph designating him as a member of the coyote bloodline, with an additional circle and numerical dots representing his bond with Mac. “The bloodline stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason. The jaguars are stubborn, the eagles obsessive, the harvesters nurturing, and the coyotes… Well, the coyotes are loners, Cara, and footloose as hell.”
    “That’s…”
Bullshit,
she wanted to insist, but couldn’t. Because all of a sudden, Sven’s behavior—and her father’s refusal to blame him for it—crystallized in a way it never had before.
    The lean ranginess she had always admired in him, the faint air of wildness that clung to him no matter where he was or what he was wearing, yeah, that was pure coyote. And although the bloodline characteristics had always seemed like a convenient excuse, she’d seen other aspects of the magic at work. Hell, she’d experienced it herself. Given that she’d suffered a string of low-grade illnesses that had vanished the moment she set foot back inside Skywatch, who knew what other tendencies were programmed in at the DNA level?
    What if his inability to stay put and deal with real-life problems hadn’t been self-centeredness so much as an inborn need to roam? What then?
    As if she’d asked the question aloud, he said, “I didn’t know I was a coyote when we were younger. All I knew was that I’d rather be out in the backcountry than at home, and then, once I was away from the ranch, it was easier to keep going than it was to turn back… at least until I wound up here.” He indicated Skywatch and thebox canyon surrounding them. “I’ve done my damnedest to stick it out. Learning to use the magic helped, I think, and swearing fealty to the king… But once Mac and I bonded, the restlessness came back. When I’m here, I feel caged in, claustrophobic.” He stretched his limbs, as if even that light layer of clothing was too restrictive. “Hell, even on the outside, I can’t stay in one place too long.”
    “You could fight it,” she said softly, though the words brought a twinge from her
winikin
self.
    Expression hollowing, he said, “I’ve tried to stay put, Cara. I swear I’ve tried. But the bloodline wins every time.” He paused, his expression flattening. “It’s no accident that I’m the only unmated Nightkeeper. Your dad told me once that the coyote magi didn’t usually have gods-destined mates. A few had familiars, like I do, but when it came to mates they tended to swing, no harm no foul; have your fun or even your kids and then move on.”
    She winced, but said, “That’s not your style.”
    “Isn’t it? I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted past the one-month mark.”
    “You didn’t leave any kids behind.”
    He shrugged. “Different time, different culture.”
    “You’re—” She bit off “not that guy,” not because it was