Chapter 12 #2
They sat at the small table, and for a few minutes, ate in companionable silence. Brandon watched her from the corner of his eye—the way she savored each bite, the way her magic hummed contentedly alongside his, the way she belonged here, with him.
“You know, I've been thinking about what Armand said,” Muriel said suddenly. “About the Codex choosing me.”
Brandon set down his muffin, giving her his full attention. “And?”
“I had another dream last night. Actually, it was more of a vision. A vivid one.” She traced the rim of her water glass. “In this one, there was a woman in a garden, and she was warning me about being hunted by hounds. I don’t know if I’m supposed to take that literally or not.”
“The Collectors are part of the Venatori Division of the Magical Consilium,” Brandon told her. “Venatori is Latin for hunter.”
“Oh.” Muriel met his eyes. “She said something else too. About trust. About bonds being written in stars and sealed in blood but trust still needing to be earned.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Written in stars and sealed in blood. Was the Codex telling Muriel about the mate bond? Or was it warning her about something else entirely?
“What do you think it means?” he asked carefully.
“I don't know.” Frustration edged her voice. “That's the problem with dreams and visions. They're not straightforward.”
“You should talk to Tedi.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Welcome to the world of divination.”
“Is there a way to make them less cryptic? To get clearer answers?”
“There might be.” An idea formed. “We could try reaching out to the Codex intentionally instead of waiting for it to show you visions. We were planning on doing that today anyway.”
Interest sparked in her eyes. “Do you think it will work?”
“It's worth trying. The stronger your connection to it becomes, the clearer its messages should be.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.” She nodded decisively.
Brandon flipped the sign on the door to Closed, then ushered Muriel into his office. He cleared a space among the plants, lit candles of lavender and mugwort—herbs known to enhance psychic connection—and pulled out cushions for them to sit on.
When Muriel entered with the Codex, the ancient grimoire seemed to pulse with anticipation.
“Ready?” he asked.
She settled onto the cushion across from him, the Codex in her lap. “Ready.”
“Close your eyes. Ground yourself the way I taught you. Feel the earth beneath you, your magic settling and centering.”
She did. Her breathing deepened, her shoulders relaxed, and he felt a surge of pride. She’d come such a long way in such a short time.
“Now, place your hands on the Codex. Open yourself to it. Feel its energy. Don't force anything, just invite it. Ask it to show you what you need to know.”
Muriel's hands settled on the leather cover. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then power surged through the room like a wave crashing against shore. Brandon's magic rose instinctively, wrapping around Muriel's to keep her grounded even as the Codex's ancient energy poured into her.
Her eyes flew open—but they weren't seeing this room. They were seeing something else, somewhere else, somewhen else.
“Brandon,” she whispered. “I see her. The woman from my dreams. She's—”
Her words cut off as her body went rigid. The plants in the room exploded with growth—vines crawling up walls, flowers blooming with impossible speed, roots cracking through floorboards.
It was too much. Too fast.
“Muriel!” Brandon moved closer, placing his hands over hers on the Codex. “You need to pull back. Don't fight it, just—”
“No, wait. She's showing me something,” Muriel said, her voice distant. Layered with echoes. “About the bloodline. About the keepers. About—” She gasped.
“I know. I'm sorry, but you need to—”
Her grip tightened on his hands. “—about the bond.”
The Codex flared with blinding light.
Muriel screamed.
And the world went green.
When the light faded and Brandon's vision cleared, every plant in his office had grown to jungle proportions. Vines covered the ceiling. Flowers bloomed in profusion. The lemon tree had tripled in size, its branches heavy with fruit.
And Muriel was unconscious in his arms.
“Muriel!” He checked her pulse, finding it strong and steady. Her breathing was even. But she didn't respond when he called her name.
Through the bond, he felt her consciousness—present but distant, as if she’d drifted too far into the vision to find her way back.
The Codex lay beside her, its pages open to a section written in that ancient script. And there, illuminated as if by its own light, was an illustration he'd never seen before.
Two figures. Male and female. Their hands joined. And between them, a spiral of power that represented a mate bond.
The Codex knew. It had always known.
And now it was trying to tell Muriel.
Brandon gathered her carefully, carrying her upstairs and laying her on the couch. He covered her with a soft throw and knelt beside her, holding her hand.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm so sorry. I should have told you from the beginning. I should have—”
Her eyes fluttered open. Unfocused at first, then gradually clearing.
“Brandon?” Her voice was hoarse.
“I'm here. You're safe.”
“It worked! The Codex showed me so much. The keepers. The hunts. The bonds.” She struggled to sit up, and he helped her, propping pillows behind her back. “Brandon, there was something about—”
She stopped. Stared at him.
Really looked at him.
And he knew, with horrible certainty, that the Codex had shown her everything.
“We’re connected by more than resonance, aren’t we?”
Brandon's throat closed. Forget three days. The Codex had its own timeline.
“Yes,” he said finally. “We are.”
The hurt that flashed across her face would haunt him for the rest of his life. And Brandon knew that whatever happened next, whatever he said, nothing would ever be the same between them again.
“What did you do to me?” she asked.