Page 21

21

LIORA

T he moment he says it— I love you —my magic shifts.

Not gently. Not sweetly. It shudders inside me, like a storm being pulled loose from its cage.

I feel it crackle through my ribs, down my spine, into my fingertips. The runes along my arms pulse like a heartbeat that isn’t mine. My shadows twitch at the edges of the room, unsettled, anxious.

And it’s not just because I’m scared of what he said.

It’s because my magic heard it. And it responds. Just like it did last night and even more so now, in the quiet of the morning. It seems louder now and I actually feel what is stirring awake.

I pull my hand from his slowly, like if I move too fast, I’ll start a fire.

“Liora?” Dante’s voice is low, concerned. He’s watching me carefully, but he doesn’t reach for me again. He’s learning.

“I—” I stop, swallow hard. My mouth’s dry, and I’m shaking. “There’s more I need to tell you. More that I am not meaning to hide, but just recently finding out.”

He straightens. “Anything.”

“My power…” I exhale shakily. “It doesn’t just respond to spells or commands. It’s not like human magic, or even regular fae energy. It’s emotional. ”

Dante’s brow furrows. “Emotional like?—?”

“Like it reacts to what I feel.” I pace away from him, dragging my fingers through my hair, the air around me already thickening. “Love. Fear. Rage. Guilt. The stronger it is, the more wild it gets. The harder it is to control.”

I stop by the window again, gripping the edge of the sill.

“I’m afraid, Dante,” I whisper. “Not just of Seraphiel. Of me. Of what I might do. What I might become. I’ve seen what happens when I lose control—when I get scared or... when I feel too much. I know this all may sound like a pity party, but I just have been told to fear it. And I do. I’m afraid of what I can do because I have no idea what I’m truly capable of.”

He rises slowly, like he doesn’t want to spook me, like I’m some animal backed into a corner.

“You’re allowed to feel,” he says.

“You don’t get it,” I snap, spinning around to face him. “You make me feel things. You make the magic stir. You make it wake up in ways it never has before. Last night, when I healed you—I didn’t just want to save you. I was terrified of losing you.”

He walks to me, slow and sure. “So you saved me.”

I shake my head. “No. I broke something. I felt it inside. Like a dam cracked. Like something buried was clawing its way out. I’ve become professionally numb, but now with you–”

“Maybe it’s something good.”

“It’s not.” My voice is flat. Final. “It’s not good, Dante. Not one person has ever thought there could be something positive come from this. From me. And if Seraphiel finds out we’ve... if he senses what’s between us more than he already has?—”

I cut myself off too late.

Dante stills. “You think he doesn’t know already?”

“I don’t know what he knows!” I shout, panic rising like bile in my throat. “He’s everywhere. He whispers in my sleep. He sends shadows to follow me through the Veil. If he senses even one spark of a bond that’s now more physical between us, he’ll burn you to ash just to prove a point.”

Dante’s jaw flexes. “Let him try.”

“No.” I look at him, throat tight. “You don’t understand. If he finds out we’ve been intimate, he won’t just hurt you. He’ll use it. He’ll twist it. He’ll feed it into the ritual.”

Dante’s eyes darken. “You think he can use our bond against you?”

“I know he can. That’s how these ancient rites work. Blood. Power. Desire. That’s why he’s waited so long. He’s not just after me. He’s after the potential. The chaos of an unclaimed heart.”

Dante steps closer to me. His voice is softer now. “And if he tries to take you?”

“I don’t want to find out what happens if he does.”

For a moment, we just stand there. Him breathing hard. Me trying not to fall apart.

And then I whisper, “I need to see Thorne.”

Dante tilts his head. “Thorne? Not as in the Seelie Court, The–”

I nod. “Yes.” I respond, cutting him off. “He’s trained me when no one else has. When I was left to be bargained for or to die. He’ll be furious as sin about this, especially after the warnings. But he’s the only one who might know what to do. There has to be another way—some way to block the bond from leaking power. Some kind of binding or warding. If not for me... then for you. ”

Dante studies me. “You trust him?”

“With my life.”

“Then let’s call him.”

I nod, drop to my knees on the floor, and brush my fingers across the stone. The air chills instantly, my runes flaring to life like they’re waking from a dream.

“What are you doing?” Dante crouches beside me, watching.

“I’m drawing a summoning rune. Not to bring him here—but to send a message.”

He watches the lines form under my fingers, glowing faint blue as they settle into the ground. When I’m done, I press my palm to the center and whisper Thorne’s true name. A flicker of power sparks through the room.

“It’s done.”

Dante’s hand hovers near my back. “What now?”

I look over my shoulder, shadows coiling gently at my heels.

“Now,” I say, “we call the supernatural council.”

His brows lift. “You’re not messing around anymore.”

I look him dead in the eyes.

“ I’ve put this off long enough, but with my powers growing, Seraphiel has made is move and he wants this soon. Because this isn’t just about us now. If we don’t stop Seraphiel before the ritual begins... we lose everything. And so will the rest of the world . ”