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Chapter Fifteen

Rogue

A nother vision hits me as I land in the same clearing that I saw in my dream, or the earlier vision. It’s of a collection of shifted wolves, and I ramble out the details as chaos ensues.

Calyx and Cohen fall to their knees to help their injured friend.

I lean over, heaving in the grass as my skull pulses with pressure. Two visions and portaling is apparently the maximum my system can handle. It takes every ounce of stubbornness that my parents have ever called me out on having to keep myself upright as the world spins.

Violent, angry sounds fill the air, and I pull my hands to cover my ears. Every gnash of teeth sends a shiver down my spine that echoes in my nerve endings.

The heavy footfalls of feet approaching makes my head whip up.

Ember looks like hell, and my chest gets tight. Her wolf is fully in charge and her yellowy-amber eyes light the ground in front of her as she snarls, limping closer.

“I suggest you do something about that, or I’ll have to use my magic to knock her out,” Calyx says, sounding strained.

My forehead wrinkles as I try to determine if he wants me to use my magic to restrain Ember’s wolf. If I did, I don’t think she would ever forgive me. Her yearning to be with her mate is almost palpable.

I still feel like I might be sick, and my vision is fuzzy around the edges, but I roll my shoulders back and step into Ember’s path.

“You can’t hurt them.” I keep my tone as firm and no-nonsense as I can muster when I’m on the verge of passing out. “They’re working to save your mate. If you kill them, you kill any chance of saving the druid.”

Ember’s wolf growls and bounds around me. She reaches Lorcan’s side and snarls.

“Don’t,” Calyx says simply.

The dark, smoky shadows of his magic intertwine with Cohen’s much lighter magic, but based on the volume of each, it seems like the warlock’s power is the one doing most of the heavy lifting.

Ember’s wolf whines, tilting her head down until she can sniff Lorcan. Whatever she scents seems to steal all her fire, and she collapses to the ground, inching closer on her belly.

“We’re doing everything we can.” Cohen shakes away his magic and places his hands over Lorcan’s chest once more. “Don’t cry.”

My mind can’t even fathom the agony Ember must be experiencing. She and Lorcan just met, but they’ve bonded—and only hours ago. My vision shared glimpses of their intimate moments in the grotto under the waterfall.

I’m not sure she could ever recover from a loss like that.

No.

I won’t let myself even go there.

Failure isn’t an option.

If things don’t take a turn in the next few minutes, I’ll call my mother. Her magic exists outside of the laws of nature. She’s always reticent to use it, but she will for something so important.

I approach slowly to avoid triggering a reaction from Ember’s wolf. The last thing she needs is someone trying to sneak up on her after such a recent battle. She could mistake me for an enemy and attack.

Her head raises, and once it’s clear she doesn’t object to my presence, I take a seat at her side.

The fighting continues, and a short while later, Veryn approaches.

I scoot back to give him room next to Ember and try to find a way to ask Calyx what’s happening without Ember hearing.

Veryn slides up next to his mate, running a hand through her bloody fur. “Is he…” He glances between Cohen and Calyx.

“Well, he’s not currently alive,” Calyx says, shaking out his glowing hands. “But he’s not past the point of no return. I believe Mother Nature will accept his sacrifice. I haven’t given up hope, and you shouldn’t, either.”

Cohen nods and shoves up his glasses as he falls to sit on his rear end. “It will take several hours for him to rise if it’s anything like a normal full moon.”

This is something the druid experiences regularly?

Gods.

I can’t imagine how Ember will ever tolerate that.

I’m just about to ask if I should call my mother when Ember’s wolf cedes control back.

Ember’s injured leg stays out an unnatural angle, and she hisses, trying to find her balance as she kneels next to Lorcan completely nude. “I can’t feel this every full moon.”

“It won’t be anything as traumatic as this.” Calyx frowns, shaking his head. “Normally, his spirit doesn’t separate from his body. Cohen and I tethered it to you.” He nods at Ember. “You should be feeling some relief from the agony of the broken matebond?”

Ember’s hand flies to her chest, and she rubs over her heart. “I think that’s why my wolf allowed me to take back over.”

“Excellent,” Calyx says, clapping. “Now, if we could find you some clothing, the Seelie princess and I can begin to work on your wounds.” He laughs. “I may even be able to make it home before sunrise.”

“I don’t have healing magic.” I frown, shaking my head. “We need??—”

I don’t even get to finish my sentence of a healer , because Calyx cuts me off.

“You need no one but me, princess.” Calyx stares straight into my eyes, but he slides a hand down Ember’s front without touching her skin. “Your magic is based in life, while mine thrives on death. I will guide your magic if you lend it to me.”

My mouth goes dry as his bright gray eyes stare into mine. The idea of melding our magic feels especially intimate, but I can’t allow Ember to suffer needlessly.

I swallow thickly and nod. “I’ll do what I can.”

It’s more than intimate to feel Calyx’s magic coaxing mine. I’ve never felt anything like it, and I can’t tell if I love or hate it. It’s like some piece of him settles directly into my chest, teasing and guiding the essence of my magic.

I endure it, though.

And with an audience, no less.

It’s a huge relief when Lorcan awakens and it’s clear he’ll make it. When Calyx moves to pull the daggers from his friend’s extremities, Cohen slides up behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” the warlock asks in a tender tone.

“I’m fine,” I assure him.

Everything moves quickly after that. Calyx and I take Ember and Lorcan to the house she’s staying at on pack lands. Afterward, we stop by the clearing to collect Cohen, and Calyx portals us back to the sithen.

This time, we land in the living room, and I toss myself down onto the couch. It molds to my backside, and I snuggle in as adrenaline wrecks my system.

Calyx perches on the end of the club chair he sat in for our first conversation in this room, while Cohen takes the seat at my side.

“Without that vision, Lorcan might not have made it,” Cohen says, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my left ear. He looks so sincere that it makes my chest tight while my stomach flutters.

“I’d like to believe Mother Nature would have accepted his sacrifice with or without the spelled daggers, but I agree.” Calyx smiles and shallow indents appear in his scruff. “Our old friend owes you his gratitude for an impeccable save.”

I’m a little too distracted by the fact the lich has dimples to formulate a reply.

Cohen wraps his hand in mine. “We slept most of the day, but if you’re tired, I can run you a hot bath. Or are you hungry? I was going to cook this afternoon?—”

“I’m okay,” I finally manage to say.

I’m still not functioning at one hundred percent after the visions. On top of that, I can still feel residual pulses in my chest that are distinctly Calyx-like. It’s jarring and comforting all at once, and I’m not sure how to process that.

Calyx chuckles, and it almost feels like he knows what I’m thinking. “None of us have eaten. Why don’t you fix us something? I’m happy to keep Rogue company.”

Ash trots along at Calyx’s side as we meander around the back of the house.

I haven’t seen this area of the property, but it’s beautiful. There’s a fountain in the middle of several large shrubs, and past that is a gravel-lined path that leads toward the woods.

There’s no water in the fountain as Calyx guides me past it, and it looks old, like it’s fallen into disrepair. It makes me sad, but I barely get to focus on that as a cool breeze cuts through the air and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Was the house here when you found the sithen?” I look up at Calyx, studying the intricate runes and sigils lining the skin of his neck.

He hums. “It was not. The foundation appeared as I was contemplating what I would fashion. I prefer to build my own safe houses. Once one has served its purpose, my magic simply releases the energy, allowing it to melt back into the ether. The land returns to what it was like before I started.”

“That is actually really amazing,” I say before I can stop myself.

“Ahh, it’s nothing compared to your gifts.

” The lich wraps an arm around my lower back.

“The universe considers you pure enough to gauge the intent of others.” He chuckles.

“That could never be me. I tend to see the worst in humanity, but it will allow me the shrewdness necessary to protect you if anyone should mean you harm.”

I stop dead in my tracks, shaking my head. “No, I’m not. My sister loves to tell me I’m rigid. Probably judgmental too.”

“Might that be because she views you as following the rules?” Calyx quirks an eyebrow. “Which, by my estimation, will be an asset in someone who must determine whether to allow a being safe passage through the sithen.”

“I don’t know what that means.” I guess I have some idea of what he’s hinting at.

I can make assumptions, but I’d like him to be very clear, so there are no misunderstandings.

“The sithen exists in the veil where the fae and human realms meet.” Calyx applies pressure to my lower back, guiding me to keep moving. “Not all beings have access to portal magic, and even less have the ability to siphon.”

“So they seek out a sithen?” I ask, vaguely remembering what my mother said. “Actually, my mom mentioned that if someone were to wander for long enough with pure intentions, they could find themselves in a sithen.”

“There you have it,” Calyx says, patting my hip.

“They’ll find their way to you, and it’s your choice if you allow them safe passage to the realm they seek.

The sithen is still forming, but I believe it’s waiting for your input.

Some keepers of the mound choose to fashion it after a station.

You could make a platform with a waiting area, or you could ask the sithen to create tiny cottages around the property.

That way, those who have been traveling for days or weeks would have a place to rest before continuing on with their journey.

It’s ultimately up to you. Your imagination is the limit. ”

“How will I know if someone is worthy of passing to another realm?” I ask, looking at Calyx. “What if they’re only seeking asylum somewhere else because they’re wanted for a crime?”

Calyx shrugs. “What if that crime was justified? A mother slaughters her husband because he physically abuses her or their child…” He teases his hand over my hip. “Does she deserve to rot in prison? Or do the ends justify the means?”

My heart races as my head shakes. “There’s no way I’m qualified to make those kinds of calls.”

“Ahh, well, we know the universe or powers that be disagree.” He hums. “And I can think of no one else better suited for the job. Your gifts as a soothsayer make you more qualified than most. You also have the ability to suss out a lie. That’s not even touching what magic you inherited from your mother. ”

I go rigid at his words.

My mother’s magic is a closely guarded secret, but it gives me a power boost whenever I need it. Although, I’ve avoided verifying if I inherited her ability to resurrect people.

“As the sithen’s power grows, so will its ability to function,” the lich says calmly.

“You’ll need to decide upon a method before travelers start to pop up.

If you go with a platform method, you could simply send them across and down the other side if you choose to allow them passage.

If they don’t meet the criteria, you could wave them back the way they came, returning them to their home realm. ”

I’m so torn.

I never accepted this job that Calyx seems to think I’m meant for. At the same time, a piece of my soul feels safe and comfortable here at the sithen. Having a direct connection to the magic of Faere soothes the parts of myself that have yearned to relocate to the fae realm.

My family would be horrified to know it’s something I’ve even considered, but it’s hard living in a realm that wasn’t designed for me. My sensitivity to electricity and radio waves has forced me to get comfortable being uncomfortable.

I always feel like I’m running at seventy percent…

I’m not sure I could tolerate being away from my family, especially Gemma, which is why I’ve never put any real plans into motion, but it’s a deep, dark secret I’ve harbored.

Even though I’m rundown from my approaching quickening, for the first time ever , my magic feels like it’s coursing through my veins at one hundred percent strength.

Perhaps some negatives will pop up over time, but for now, I’m willing to see what life would be like as the keeper of the mound.

“Give it some thought, princess. This place will be a physical manifestation of whatever you’d like to make it,” Calyx says, squeezing my hip.

Shit .

That’s terrifying and amazing, all rolled up into one.