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VIOLET

Apart from his horrified response to my explanation about Rowan’s actions, Leif has little to share about the night’s events.

Leif maintains that he visited Holly because the girl wanted one of us around for safety, but I struggle to fully believe him.

Holly is more amicable with Leif than the others, since the two are casual friends for years, but he isn’t someone she’d choose to confide in.

Yet, Leif is correct that he and Holly have a link through their experiences with dangerous spells, but Leif isn’t one to enjoy speaking about himself.

Hence, a weird decision to speak with Holly.

Leif’s report about his patrol activities is vague too, but the lead on the sports hall and academy ‘ghosts’ may be of interest.

If I wasn’t facing the issue of Rowan’s death-inducing magic, I would’ve pressed for more information despite Leif not wanting to hang around. Was Leif uncomfortable that I’d resume our conversation about his desire to shift?

That’s an essential discussion, but not for tonight.

Leif offered to stay with Rowan, as he often does following what he calls Rowan’s ‘episodes,’ but this is beyond an episode. The issue with Rowan’s shadows spreads further than anything Leif could deal with and also requires more than a conversation.

I can’t remove the images of Rowan and the dead witch from my head.

I’m terrified what this might mean for him.

As soon as I sensed death in the room that wasn’t Viktor, I hit Penelope with a spell to stun her and looked around.

I have never seen shadows as dense, not even at the warehouse to bind Josef or when he used them against me.

Those times, Rowan controlled them—tonight, Rowan appeared in complete control of his actions, but instead he brought my greatest fear to fruition.

The shadows fed on Rowan’s reaction to the attack on me, seizing hold of the intense anger, and tricking him. My bonded witch lost his mind in more ways than one as the shadows took over.

How can I fix what I’ve gifted Rowan with? Gift. Someone used that word before and predicted Rowan’s change. He mocked me, even though I denied Rowan could possibly succumb.

Viktor.

Rowan lapsed into quiet shock at his actions, and the shadows’ influence, barely speaking once we left the remaining, mind-wiped witches to their task. Has Rowan yet comprehended that he took a life tonight?

My specific darkness almost emerged in my utter panic at the sight of the dead witch—necromancy.

I could’ve tried, and then we’d have a construct who could report back about Whitegrove’s moves.

The old Violet’s logic to that idea pulled me closer to attempting necromancy on something more than an animal for the first time.

If Grayson hadn’t arrived with the third witch, would I have attempted the spell?

If I had, the amount of trouble I’m already in would multiply exponentially, especially if the spell backfired. Not only would Whitegrove notice, but adding necromancy to the list of acts against Dorian’s wishes wouldn’t aid us right now.

Rowan is lucky we had another method of body disposal on hand.

I gaze at my murder wall and then to Holly’s bed. I’m confident the shadows won’t manifest in Rowan again tonight, but however I feel about his actions, Rowan needs me. I’ll take the risk of what might happen if my presence escalates the shadow magic again.

I clean the blood from my face, recapture my hair in a ponytail and box up my emotions before leaving the room. Darwin House’s sentries spot me, but they don’t acknowledge me passing by or ask questions.

Rowan doesn’t answer his door, although I only knock as a formality before opening. I step into a familiar room to an unfamiliar person.

The imprint of magic always lingers in Pendle House, and strongly in Rowan’s room where the residue from his extra-curricular magic clings to objects, herbal scents mingled in an unidentifiable mix.

The single lamp on his desk casts uneven light, across the walls, and there’re faint runes on the wooden floor where I’ve sat with him and practiced spells many times.

Rowan sits in the exact position as when we first connected, our hands held to perform his psychometry on Wesley’s stolen belongings. The day Rowan first recognized what I refused to: our witch bond.

That singular moment when our magic touched, and our souls began to knit led to everything that happened tonight.

He’s holding bent knees to his chest, gazing at the floor, his messy hair obscuring his profile.

Rowan remains still, quiet, as he has since we left the funeral home.

I understand why he’s disconnected, but is he with the shadows?

Not physically—even though the shadows could remove him from the world—but under their influence still?

“Hello, Violet.”

Such simple words but vacant, with no hint of Rowan’s frame of mind. He doesn’t look at me, fixated on the faded chalked outline of a rune.

I close the door. “Rowan.”

“What are you going to do?” He turns his head, and I swallow in relief that his steel blue eyes aren’t grayed by magic again.

“What do you expect me to do?”

He shrugs. Such a Rowan thing. “I thought a lot about that since I came back to my room. Funny thing. We’re close, but I still can’t predict your response.”

“To you murdering somebody?” His jaw tenses. “I can’t change what you did, and neither can you.”

“Well, you could’ve…” He trails off and laughs softly to himself, looking away. “Although, we’d have a complicated relationship if I murder people, and you have to clean up by creating a bunch of constructs.”

I blink. “You think this is a joke?”

“No, Violet. I don’t.” His arms clasp tighter around his knees. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”

“But inevitable.” I sit beside him, far enough away that we don’t touch, but closer than I’d like to the darkness that lingers around Rowan. “The shadows would eventually overcome you.”

“Why? Because I’m weak?” he retorts.

“No. Because the ability to kill is within you.” His head snaps around, about to protest. “Haven’t you come one step away from killing in the past?”

He shifts and stares at the floor again. “Maybe. But the Rowan who stood on the edge wasn’t the person I am tonight.”

“You think the shadows changed you?” I ask.

His eyes fix on mine again. “No, Violet.You did.”

“You blame me?” I ask in horror. “I’m not responsible for your actions.”

Anger surges, and Rowan hastily reaches out and touches my leg. “No. Listen. Yes, you’re responsible for the shadows, but how can I blame you? I’ve always argued that we’re stronger together, that we have a power created by darkness. I just didn’t think that darkness would control me.”

“You welcomed the shadows, Rowan. You’ve called on them in the past, and that’s given the shadows a crack in your soul to move through.” I swallow. “I warned you not to acknowledge the magic.”

Silence settles around us, and Rowan rubs his lips.

“Do you know what worries me the most, Rowan? That you believed I’d ask you to kill.”

Again, a pause, then uncertainty in his words. “Or maybe that’s what a hidden part of me wanted to hear from you—something within me that’s murderous. Otherwise, why would my soul bond to a Blackwood?”

Murderous. Blackwood. Who were these witches that created Dorian and, through him, me?

The family no longer exists, although there’s one pure-blooded Blackwood witch in the world.

He exiled himself from the family and their practices as a teen, and years before their downfall. How has he survived the shadows?

I have only a small amount of Blackwood magic energy, but is that too much for Rowan to cope with, even partially through a bond? He’s the son of an original witch family, but not one as strong as the Blackwoods or Winterfalls.

“I hated the bond for selfish reasons at first, Rowan, but the day I saw you attack the shifters in the park, everything changed. I became aware that our bond not only altered my life but put others at risk. I’d inadvertently shared something that I shouldn’t with a power-hungry witch.”

“Power-hungry?” He repeats the words and shakes his head, but he’s never denied those desires. “But you stopped pushing me away, Violet. Or is that why you’re here now? To tell me we should stay away from each other?”

“What?” Hurt coils tight in my chest.Does Rowan think that I’m only here due to our magic? Have I not transparently communicated what he means to me? I stand. “Do you think I’d easily end this?”

“Not easily, no. The bond can’t be broken.”

“How can you reduce everything to the bond? I can’t.

Don’t you see? You expected me to walk in here furious and accusing, to tell you to stay away, and that I’d refuse to accept your actions.

I didn’t, because what underpins everything isn’t the fear for what you did but fear for you .

Because I love you.” I stare at him, my throat tight. “Or do you want to walk away from us?”

“How could I? You’re the center of my world.

” He stands but doesn’t touch me, like he’s afraid one wrong move will push me out of that place.

“I love you and that is the only thing that makes sense anymore. I don’t know how to stop the shadows; I don’t know how to fight the part of me that likes the power, but I will fight for us. I can’t lose you, Violet.”

Accepting that more than the witch bond held us together took a lot and, even then, I fooled myself by thinking I’d stay in control of the situation. But emotions became involved. Emotions. That’s theproblem here. The shadows feed on the negative ones.

“You won’t lose me or yourself.”

Even so, the distance I once maintained has returned, and Rowan won’t break that, even though his whole demeanor shouts out that he wants to break through. Is he frightened I’ll bring the shadows back if we touch?

“I don’t know what to do. I’m fucking scared, Violet. I’m too frightened to sleep tonight.”