Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
T he soft glow of candlelight bathed the hall, flames flickering in glass orbs mounted along the stone masonry walls. Golden light pooled like spilled sunlight across the floor, catching on arrangements of wildflowers cascading from carved alcoves—lilies, frost-blooms, and thick-stemmed vines that trailed like whispers from the ceiling beams.
A massive oak table stretched down the center of the room, so long it nearly vanished into shadow at the far end. It was set with mismatched, beautifully crafted blue-hued stoneware—each plate, cup, and bowl etched with curling patterns, like waves frozen in time.
Food lined every inch of the table, a chaotic display of abundance and artistry. Loaves of bread—some twisted with herbs, others glistening with butter—sat nestled in linen-lined baskets. Roasted vegetables gleamed under glazes of honey and wine, their skins blistered to perfection. A whole deer, fire-charred and dripping with juice, lay at the center, flanked by bowls of garlic-stuffed mushrooms and platters of blackened root vegetables seasoned with salt and ash. There were trays of blistered figs, still warm from the oven, and jugs of mulled cider so fragrant it made my mouth water before I’d even sat down.
Steam curled from the roasted deer, rich and wild, the scent of smoke clinging to the charred flesh and making my stomach rumble. Maalikai had gone hunting after my first magik lesson, while Sebastian and I helped the others prepare dinner.
The smell of freshly baked bread drifted through the hall, sweetened by honey cakes cooling beside the fire. But it was the honey-glazed carrots that nearly undid me—baby carrots, their green stems still intact, dribbling golden juice across blue-hued stoneware like spilled treasure.
Noticing the twins, I smiled.One had her hair twisted into intricate braids that shimmered with woven ribbon, the other’s copper curls hung loose, tumbling down her back as they raced down the aisle between the tables, giggling and chasing one another with carved wooden dolls clutched in their fists. Their laughter echoed off the stone, high and sweet.
At the far end of the table, Triska and my mother sat side by side, shoulders brushing as they laughed at something only they could hear—just like the old days. Like before we'd lost him. Before everything fractured. And for a moment—just one fragile breath—it felt like nothing had gone awry. Like we were still whole.
No exile. No threats. No war. No death.
Just home, and family, and light.
And my heart, so used to the ache, filled without asking permission.
I slid into a seat, still caught in the haze of magik and muscle ache, only to find myself face to face with Evie.
“Ah... hi.” I stummered, rather ungraciously.
She gave me a small, timid smile—so quintessentially Evie that I nearly laughed. She might’ve looked like a red-headed Goddess, but she was anything but fiery. She was softness—whispered words, downcast glances, and that unnerving quiet that made me feel like she could see everything. Like she already knew all my secrets.
“Hi,”she echoed.
“You look pretty,”I said, awkward and uncertain.
We had once been each other’s shadows. My twin flame in everything that mattered. Now, we stood on opposite sides of a line neither of us had drawn—but both of us had been forced to obey. A fracture not born of betrayal, but of survival. And now? That fracture had left a shroud of silence between us. A chasm lined with things we didn’t know how say.
“Thanks,”she said with a small smile. “But nothing compared to you in that purple dress. It’s stunning—it accentuates all your features.”
At least someone in this family had inherited charm. Because it sure as Nexus, wasn’t me.
I really looked at her then. She hadn’t inherited her father’s eyes—instead of deep brown, they were emerald-green. Like mine. A dusting of freckles kissed her nose, not scattered but placed, as if the Gods had taken their time arranging them to elevate her already unsettling beauty. But it was her hair that betrayed her birthright. Not auburn like Triska’s. Not copper like Thrainn’s. Flame-red. Blood-kissed.Almost like a crown.
The next chieftain. Or she would be—if Thrainn had his way.
The air shifted. Pressure dipped like a held breath as Maalikai took the seat beside me. The energy between us crackled—silent, electric. Two seconds later, Sebastian slid in beside Evie, draping his arm over her shoulder like it belonged there.
“Hey, Bash.” Evie grinned, and that smile could split the earth wide open.
“Hey, E. Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Sebastian stole a piece of bread off her plate without asking, flashing that cocky grin he knew annoyed her–in a way that made her smile anyway. But there was real warmth behind it.
“I’ve been here,”she said with a shrug, not bothering to swat his hand away. “Just doing all the boring things while you two trade off guarding Emylia and the rest of us.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her mouth twitching like she was trying not to grin. Her tone was light, but there was a flicker of something beneath it–something that made me feel like she wasn’t entirely joking.
A pang struck me—sharp and fast.
She was right. I’d been so wrapped up in my magik, that I hadn’t stopped to think how exile must’ve felt for her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet she’d been banished, too—left behind in someone else’s home, with her siblings and her mother, while the rest of us disappeared for hours in secrecy.
“I’m sorry.”
The table stilled.
All eyes turned to me—wide, disbelieving—as if they’d just watched the sky split open and rain down shattering stardust.
I reached for a piece of bread, tearing it absently between my fingers before handing the end to one of the twins as she zipped past with sticky hands and wild laughter.
“It’s not your fault you’re here,”I said quietly. “It’s mine.”
Evie tilted her head, then gently nudged a bowl of figs toward me with one finger. The fire popped behind us, a sharp crack like bones breaking in the hearth, and its warmth curled along my spine. Somewhere above, a firefly floated down from the rafters, flickering once, then twice—like the air itself had paused to listen.
“Technically, it’s not your fault.”
I blinked, tearing my gaze from the bread in my hand. “What do you mean?”
“We were sent here to keep us all safe. Like some invisible prison, sealed behind Aunty Belle’s wards.”
Fucking unbelievable.
I turned to Sebastian, glaring.
“She knew?” Then back to her. “They told you ?”
Even Sebastian looked stunned. Speechless—for once in his life.
Evie just smiled, calm and unbothered. She popped a honeyed fig into her mouth, chewed slowly, then swallowed like she had all the time in the world.
“No one told me. I just pay attention. No one walks away from the wounds Aunt Belle heals. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out she’s a magik wielder.”
That was something I’d only discovered yesterday.
“Ouch,”I muttered, brushing a flake of salt off my lap, suddenly aware of how quiet the hall had gone again.
“Well, it doesn’t,”she said, still somehow gentle. “It also explains why you live all the way out here. If anyone found out, there’d be retribution. Magik isn’t accepted the way it once was.”
Damn.
Sebastian toyed with the handle of his mug but didn’t drink. The firelight caught in the gold flecks of his eyes as he glanced sideways at Evie, then down again.
“Maybe you were too close to see the signs.” Her words held no venom—she was still protecting me, still cushioning the truth. “Or maybe you were just too busy learning how to wield weapons.”
My mouth dropped open.
“You’re kidding.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve never told anyone. And I never will.” She hesitated. “Although... I’m honestly not sure how it’s not public knowledge. You’d have to be blind—or an idiot—not to see it.”
Wow.
I was getting absolutely annihilated by my cousin’s uncanny perception.
I stared at her— really stared—and saw something I hadn’t noticed before.
She hadn’t just grown up.
She’d become dangerous.
There was an intelligence in her eyes now that gleamed like a blade. Quiet. Sharp. Lethal. She didn’t have my magik, or my ability to kill without blinking—but Evie was something else entirely.
A weapon no one had seen coming.
At least, not yet.
And I was beginning to think she might be the most dangerous one of us all.
Because knowledge is power—and she had been watching. Learning. Calculating. Sharpening her mind while we sharpened steel.
And now?
Now all I had to do was show her how to deliver the final blow.
And then she’d be an unstoppable force.
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