Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
M oving faster than I should’ve been able to, I pulled on my clothes. My body moved on instinct, like dressing might somehow tether me to something real—something tangible.
I wanted to wear something simple—my leather pants and a top—but Evie was here now, and I wasn’t in the mood for questions. Even though her mood had softened, I was still wary of how she’d react to who I truly was–to my magik. She was family, but I wasn't sure to what extent I could trust her.
Instead, I grabbed a purple dress—the one with the intricately beaded bodice and the delicate blue stone at its center. It felt like armor disguised as beauty. The skirt was sheer, layered, easy to pin at the hips. Elegant, but built for movement.
Quiet as a shadow, I slipped outside, down the spiral staircase woven with thick curling vines of jasmine. The blossoms coated the air in sweetness.
Dark, ominous clouds stained the sky, threatening to release a deluge at any second. Rain lingered on the edge of the wind, waiting. It stung my cheeks as I crossed the clearing, cold enough to make my eyes water. But I didn’t stop.
My heart still reeled—from Maalikai’s words, from the truth I didn’t want to face. I wasn’t ready to be seen. So I let my feet carry me to the one place that still felt like his arms.
The cliff.
Our place.
It rose from the land like it had always belonged—wild and untouched. Below, waves thundered against stone, roaring like they held secrets only the sea could keep. I remembered sitting here as a child, legs swinging over the edge, while my father whispered stories about magik.
He never spoke them aloud to others—only ever to me and the stars. Maybe that was his way of trying to tell me something. That I was more. Touched by the Gods in a way I could never fathom. Never believe. Not until I was truly ready.
Maybe he’d been preparing me for this moment my entire life.
Maybe I was finally ready.
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of the willow. My willow.
It stood at the cliff’s edge—defiant, unyielding, like it welcomed the wrath of the sea and thrived off the violence roiling around it.
It shouldn’t have been possible for a tree to grow in a place so wind-swept, so exposed. But it had.
And it had thrived .
Vines of orange blossom twisted through its branches, tangled with cherry blooms and violet pansies. It looked like something from another world. Not just beautiful—magikal. Alive in a way the rest of the world wasn’t.
Defying what was real just by existing.
Just like me.
My feet moved without thought, drawn forward like the tree had summoned me.
As I approached, the air changed.
The vines swayed—but not with the wind. They reached . Reacted to me like I had somehow called them.
One curled through the air, slow and intentional, brushing my fingertips before winding delicately around my finger. Where it touched, blossoms unfurled—glowing violet and white, like stars blooming in the night sky.
The tree shivered . Not in the wind.
In recognition.
A pulse—warm and electric—shot up my arm. Something ancient. Something divine. A soft hum threaded through me, weaving into my soul like it had always been there. Not just touching me—but becoming part of me. Like the tree’s power was mine to command.
The vine uncurled, floating free as the branches above parted, revealing the heart of the willow. And at its base—the mark I’d carved with my father’s dagger. His signet. A memory in bark.
I stepped closer, breath caught in my throat. My fingers trembled as they traced the runes. Something inside me splintered. Power buzzed beneath my skin—familiar and ancient. Like the Tree of Life’s echo lived here too, humming through the roots, rising into me.
Tears blurred my vision. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.
“Emylia.”
I turned.
My mother stood beneath the canopy, her green eyes soft with grief.
“I’m sorry,” she said, stepping toward me. “For not telling you who I am. For not telling you who you are.”
I swallowed. “Sebastian said Dad knew.”
She nodded. “He did.”
“And neither of you told me.”
“It wasn’t about trust,” she said quickly. “It was about protection.”
“That’s starting to feel like the same thing.”
She reached for my hands. I let her take them.
“We wanted you to have time,” she whispered. “Before the world demanded everything from you.”
“But I’m not a child anymore,” I said. “And this magik—it’s already inside me. If I can’t control it, it’ll destroy more than just me.”
Her jaw trembled. “You don’t understand what you’re asking. The answers will change everything. Once you know, there’s no going back.”
“Then don’t give me answers,” I said. “Give me control .”
She glanced at the tree, her breath hitching. Her restraint visibly cracked.
“This is the last of the sacred seeds, the only one in the existence in this realm. A descendant of the Tree of Life. We planted it on your first birthday. It’s already rooted into the core of the Earth… and the realm of the Gods.”
My breath caught. The air shifted again—magik crackling faintly in response to me.
“If I touch it… can I draw power from it?”
“Possibly. If it accepts you.”
“Will you help me?”
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
“If you can cipher even a small amount of energy, I’ll teach you what I know. It may not be much, but it will be a start.”
“Then yes,” I said. “I want to learn.”
“This is different magik than what I know,” she warned. “But I can guide you. And… I hope it earns back a little of your trust.”
I wrapped my arms around her. The sound of crashing waves calmed my racing heart. I closed my eyes, letting the serenity wash over me, hoping it would calm the rage in my soul. “It does. Thank you.”
She smiled gently and returned the embrace, then glanced over my shoulder. “Seems you have company.”
I turned toward the path.
Maalikai emerged first—dark and quiet as ever—closely followed by Sebastian, who gave me a hesitant half-smile I didn’t quite know how to read. They stood just within the clearing, both of them silent.
Watching.
Waiting.
The weight of the morning—and everything unspoken between the three of us—settled in the air like mist.
But I couldn’t focus on that now.
Not on broken hearts.
Not on bruised choices.
Not on the ache of wanting two people I could never truly claim.
Because today, I would learn to harness the magik burning in my blood.
Even if it was the only thing I could control.