Page 38

Keane

Wisp prowled restlessly through the library stacks, her form flickering with increasing instability while I pretended to focus on explaining magical resonance patterns to Marigold instead of watching how the silvery moonlight caught her honey-blonde hair.

The instability in my magic writhed beneath my skin, making it harder to maintain control.

“So the energy has to match the intention,” she mused, leaning closer to examine my notes. Her shoulder pressed against mine as she traced a diagram, sending electricity skittering across my skin.

“Exactly.” I tried to keep my voice steady as her fingers brushed mine reaching for another page, fighting to keep my portals stable as they wavered and bled at the edges. “Like during the trials, when our magic—”

But she was already turning toward me with that smile that made thinking difficult.

Before I could pull away, she closed the distance between us.

The kiss was soft, playful—and for just a moment, the darkness receded.

When she pulled back, her eyes held mischief, though I caught a flash of concern as Wisp’s form wavered again.

“Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. “You’re just really attractive when you’re being all scholarly.”

Heat crept up my neck, but beneath it, the darkness stirred. I should push her away. Should tell her how my magic was deteriorating, how Uncle’s therapy was changing something fundamental inside me. Instead, I let myself lean into her warmth. “I thought you wanted help with magical theory.”

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to get you alone.” Her teasing tone made my pulse quicken. But then she bit her lip, suddenly serious.

“Actually, there’s something else I wanted to show you.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a leather-bound journal, the embossed skull sigil of the Fourth Council seat catching the firelight. Wisp’s ears pricked forward with interest, though her form flickered, dissolving at the edges like smoke.

“You remember how I told you about my father’s journal?” she said carefully. “I think there’s something hidden in here. Something I don’t understand yet.”

She opened to a dense page of routine Council records, but her fingers traced the thin, deliberate marks in the margins.

“Look at these patterns.” She tapped a repeated set of lines and symbols. “They don’t look random. And certain words are marked, but I don’t know what it means.”

I tried to focus, but shadows clung to the edges of my vision, the wrongness inside me curling tighter. Still, my love of puzzles stirred beneath the haze.

“These could be cipher keys,” I murmured, pointing to a recurring sequence. “See how these marks connect? Like pathways between seemingly unrelated sections.”

Her eyes lit up with realization. “That’s what I was missing.”

But her expression shifted to concern as she looked at me again. “Keane, your hands are shaking.”

I blinked down at them, at my fingers twitching like a marionette’s strings had been pulled too hard. I pulled away, but she caught my wrist. The touch sent clean magic sparking between us, temporarily driving back the darkness.

She was too close. Those deep brown eyes fixed on mine, full of questions, full of knowing. I couldn’t hold the mask anymore—didn’t want to. Not when every breath I took around her made my restraint feel like a cage about to crack.

So I let go.

I kissed her hard—none of the careful control I was known for, none of the calculated distance. Just raw, unfiltered need. Teeth and tongue, hungry, claiming. I felt her gasp into my mouth, surprise melting into want as she gripped my shirt, dragging me closer like she needed this too.

Her hand still clutched the journal, but the other slid into my hair, nails grazing my scalp in a way that made my pulse stutter. She met me with equal force, kissing me back with heat and urgency, like we’d been circling this for too long.

There was no finesse in it—just mouths crashing, lips parting, our tongues tangling in a mess of hunger and too much feeling.

I barely registered moving her backward until she bumped into the library stack, and still I couldn’t stop.

I didn’t want to. Her hips tilted toward me, her breath catching as I deepened the kiss again, again, chasing that edge of oblivion.

Everything narrowed to the feel of her. The way she tasted—like defiance and magic and something I didn’t deserve. The scrape of her teeth against my lower lip. The way her magic sparked against mine, chaotic and familiar all at once.

I wanted more. I wanted all of her.

And that scared the hell out of me.

We only broke apart when the sound of something shifting nearby snapped the moment. We were both breathing hard, lips swollen, skin flushed. Her eyes searched mine like she could still feel the truth of what I hadn’t said. What I couldn’t say.

Wisp’s unstable form flickered at the edge of my vision—sharp and immediate. The price of losing control. Of wanting.

My hand dropped from her waist, but the heat didn’t leave my skin.

I couldn’t afford this.

But gods, I needed it more than I’d ever admit.

“We should probably actually study some of these patterns,” she said, though her voice carried that same reluctant breathlessness as mine. She smoothed her shirt, but not the flush lingering on her cheeks.

“Probably,” I echoed, gathering her scattered notes—fingers brushing hers longer than I needed to. I told myself it was accidental. It wasn’t. I was selfishly hoarding every moment of quiet magic between us.

“Though I can think of better things to do with you in dark corners of the library.”

Her blush deepened—gorgeous and real—and it lit something sharp and warm in my chest. But as she began explaining another section of the journal, the glow faded.

I heard her voice, but my thoughts twisted around the bitter truth: she was pouring her heart into solving mysteries, while I was becoming one.

She deserved someone honest. Someone whole.

And I was lying every time I smiled and let her believe I was fine.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, hating how easily the words came. “Together.”

She looked up from her bag, her smile soft—trusting. It wrecked me.

Then her eyes narrowed, just slightly. She knew me too well already.

“What is it?”

I hesitated, then reached into my pocket for the small package I’d been carrying for days. Maybe I couldn’t tell her the truth, but I could give her this. “I have something for you. It’s not much, but…”

Her eyes widened as she unwrapped the delicate silver bracelet. A small antique key dangled from it, catching the moonlight. “Keane…”

“I noticed how you collect special things,” I said quickly, suddenly nervous. “And I thought… well, since I collect keys…” I trailed off, watching her trace the intricate pattern on the key’s surface.

“It’s beautiful.” Her voice was soft as she held out her wrist, letting me fasten the bracelet. The key settled perfectly against her pulse point.

“I don’t know what it unlocks,” I admitted. “I’ve had it for years, but could never figure it out. Then I realized… maybe it was waiting for you.”

She pulled me down for another kiss that made my head spin, that made me forget for just a moment about the instability spreading through my magic. When we finally broke apart, her eyes were bright with emotion. “I’ll treasure it.”

I watched her go, touching my lips where I could still feel her warmth.

Wisp pressed against my leg, but her form was flickering more erratically now, barely holding together.

My magic surged unstably as she disappeared around a shelf, my portals wavering with sickly edges as I gripped the table hard enough to make my knuckles white.

The key glinted on her wrist—a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep. Uncle’s therapy sessions were getting more frequent, leaving my magic more unstable each time instead of steadier. Soon there might not be anything left of me that worked right.

But for now, I let myself feel that fragile hope. Even knowing I’d have to break it soon.