Chapter 14 Lifetime After Lifetime #2
With equal parts excitement and anxiety, I showed her my cobbled-together ward against siphoning, and she actually listened to every stumbling word.
“Caelyr, look at this,” she commanded when I rambled to a stop.
He set Brumous down, much to the wolf’s vocal disappointment, and examined my work with surprising interest, then nodded in slow, thoughtful approval.
“A beautiful first attempt.” His star eyes met mine, and I felt myself glow, somehow knowing he didn’t dole out compliments often. “This has a flaw.” He pointed to the focusing array, then to the same spot Kaori had. “Perhaps a reflective barrier here.”
“Queen Kaori also suggested turning it into something like a magical mirror. Redirect it back upon the attacker,” I admitted, wondering if he’d explain the flaw and somehow knowing he wouldn’t. Papa was like that, too, always wanting me to figure it out for myself.
“Nothing discourages thieves quite like having their hands burned when they reach for what isn’t theirs,” Doria chuckled. “Why do you need such a thing? Is there a threat?”
“Seri’s stepmother, Arabesque Harrow, holds her in a whisperbind,” Casimir answered for me.
“A silence shackle. She can’t speak of certain things, but we’ve pieced it together.
Arabesque siphoned from her for at least six months, stealing every drop of her magic before she came here.
Her well has only just replenished itself. ”
“I see. And this Arabesque? She’s been dealt with?”
“Working on it,” Koa muttered.
“It’s a delicate situation,” Casimir added. “We need to find how deep the roots run first.”
Doria’s expression didn’t change, but the air in the room grew suddenly charged, like the moment before lightning strikes. I shivered a little, and Casimir’s hand was around my waist in a heartbeat.
“A parasite who devours children.” Doria leaned back, eyes hooded. “Caelyr and I had our own encounter with an equally nasty Dark witch. Viralei Sade. Tried to establish a foothold in the Sky Realm.”
Viralei Sade. Something about that name triggered a distant alarm in my mind, like a half-remembered nightmare.
“We’re still uncovering her rot three years later. She’s lucky she fled.” Doria’s smile turned dangerously sweet. “If you boys should happen to run across her on one of your hunts, say goodbye to her from us.”
“Do you have a description?” Casimir shifted into hunter mode. “Identifying features? Known associates?”
“Tall, elegant, black hair, black eyes. She never, ever touches anything with bare hands. Always wears gloves.”
“We’ll add her to our watchlist.” Koa was already making notes on his phone.
As they talked, I watched Zane with Brummy on the far side of the library, pretending to not be listening to every word while squeezing a stress ball to within an inch of its life.
Doria followed my gaze and, when she stood and walked over there, the rest of us stayed where we were, giving the pair the illusion of privacy while remaining close enough to intervene if necessary.
Although what kind of intervention any of us could offer between a storm queen and her dhampir son, I couldn’t imagine.
Caelyr didn’t stare at Doria, but it was clear all of his attention was fixed on her, even as he turned to Koa.
“Current projects?”
“Working to refine a Hexenf?nger with self-incineration capabilities,” my Koko told him happily, “and improving the magi-goggles for better spectral detection.”
“And the magi-phone,” I added, unable to contain my pride in him. “He’s been working with my lunar magic to create a communication device that works even in dead zones.”
“Impressive.” Caelyr reached into an inner pocket and withdrew a small package wrapped in what looked like silk woven from moonbeams. “A gift. Starsteel wire.”
“This is exceptionally generous.” Koa’s eyes widened as he accepted the package.
“Your innovations deserve quality materials. Also aetherglass.”
As Koa carefully unwrapped the second package, Casimir leaned in, offering quiet comments about the properties of both gifts, their discussion growing increasingly technical.
Tuning them out, I watched Doria and Zane, who made quite the picture: Copper flame and scarlet fire, wild curls versus deliberate mess, ancient power facing youthful chaos.
They weren’t shouting, which seemed positive, but the tension in Zane’s shoulders told its own story.
I felt rather than sensed Caelyr coming to stand next to me.
“She gave him up for the right reasons,” he said quietly. “He knows that, but knowledge doesn’t silence longing.”
And I looked at Zane, really looked at him. The way his fingers couldn’t stay still even in serious conversation, the barely contained energy, the sharp intelligence behind the joker’s mask.
He wanted his mother’s attention, her approval, her love.
Had always wanted it, especially when he pretended he didn’t.
As for Doria, I could see affection there.
Pride, even. But not the maternal devotion Zane had craved as a child.
She was a queen first, a storm second, and a mother somewhere further down the list.
“She’ll never be what he needs, but now she gives what she can,” Caelyr finished. “And he will take it. Even if it hurts.”
It was true. Every word. I hadn’t expected Caelyr to see so clearly through Zane’s facade. Most people only saw the troublemaker and missed what was underneath.
“He carries the weight well, doesn’t he?” I said, braver than I’d usually be around someone so dangerous. “He deserved better. He deserves better.”
Caelyr’s gaze shifted to me, and I expected a rebuke. Instead, he nodded once, as if I’d passed some test.
“She knows. Knowing and understanding, however, are different creatures entirely.”
And I realized something about this towering, stoic man.
He’d chosen Doria knowing exactly who and what she was.
No illusions, no expectations of change.
He saw all of her and still said yes. He didn’t love her despite her mistakes; he loved her through them.
This was a man who could scorch stars, unmake constellations, yet he stayed at her side because he chose to.
“Seri, look at this!” Koa called. “The aetherglass refracts lunar magic in a completely different spectrum!”
As Professor Casimir lectured him about disregarding safety protocols, my eyes flicked to Caelyr. He was staring at Doria now, his expression one of such profound devotion that it made my breath catch.
That was what true love looked like. Not blind adoration or passionate drama, but steady, unwavering commitment.
The knowledge that you had seen someone at their worst and their best, at their most broken and their most glorious, and you still chose them.
Time and again. Day after day. Lifetime after lifetime.
Maybe that’s what my three husbands saw when they looked at me. Not just who I was now, but who I had been, and all that I might become.
Just like I saw when I looked at them.