Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
CASSIA
Two days after the attack in the cottage, Delos’s recovery room had transformed into the most unconventional Girls’ Night venue in Haven Shores’s history.
The young fire dragon was propped up against a mountain of pillows, his right arm still bandaged and his shoulder wrapped in healing poultices that glowed faintly with witch magic.
Dragon physiology healed at a rate that would have taken a human months to achieve in a matter of days—though the healers had made clear he was not to test that fact by doing anything foolish.
Despite looking like he’d been through a meat grinder—which, Cassia supposed, wasn’t far from the truth—he was grinning like he’d won some kind of prize.
“This is the best day of my life,” he announced to the assembled group of women who’d crowded into his room. “I should get nearly killed by sirens more often.”
“Don’t even joke about that.” Beck’s voice carried from the corner where he’d refused to leave Delos’s side since the attack. The wolf beta had dark circles under his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that spoke of suppressed worry. “I will personally murder you if you scare me like that again.”
“See?” Delos beamed at the witches. “He cares about me. It’s beautiful.”
“I’m reconsidering,” Beck replied.
Cassia watched the exchange from her position curled in the window seat, a cup of tea she hadn’t touched cooling in her hands.
The Siren’s Rest had given Delos one of their best rooms—ocean view, private bathroom, enough space to accommodate the parade of visitors who’d been streaming through since he stabilized.
Dahlia had brought pastries. Three different kinds, arranged on a tray that was now mostly empty thanks to Delos’s impressive appetite.
Junie had offered to create a revenge potion—“Something that makes Nerissa’s hair fall out, or maybe gives her permanent hiccups”—which Delos had enthusiastically encouraged before the more sensible members of the group vetoed the idea.
Avine sat on the edge of Delos’s bed, playing the perfect hostess even in someone else’s room. Narla occupied the other chair, her serene presence a counterbalance to Junie’s crackling energy.
It should have felt normal. Safe. The familiar comfort of found family rallying around a crisis.
Instead, Cassia felt like she was watching it all from very far away.
“You’re doing that thing again.” Junie’s voice cut through her thoughts. “The brooding-dramatically-by-the-window thing. It’s very atmospheric, but also concerning.”
“I’m not brooding.”
“You’re absolutely brooding.” Dahlia set down the pastry tray and moved to sit beside Cassia in the window seat. “Your storm petrel has been giving everyone the stink-eye for an hour. That’s his brooding-in-solidarity face.”
Cassia glanced at Gust, who was perched on the windowsill behind her. He ruffled his feathers indignantly but didn’t deny the accusation.
“I should leave.” The words came out before she could stop them. “My magic is making everything worse. If I wasn’t here—”
“If you weren’t here,” Narla interrupted calmly, “Delos would be dead.”
The blunt statement landed like a stone in still water. Everyone went quiet.
“You helped him,” Narla continued, her voice steady and sure. “You kept him alive until the healers arrived. Your magic isn’t the problem, Cassia.”
“She’s right.” Delos propped himself up higher against his pillows, wincing only slightly.
“But I’m not sure we can control it for long.
” Cassia set down her untouched tea, frustration bleeding into her voice.
“Every time Aero has gotten near me, my magic goes haywire. We caused a hailstorm just by touching hands. We cracked windows with a kiss. How am I supposed to help fight Nerissa when I can’t even be in the same room as him without causing property damage? ”
“That’s not lack of control.” Junie perched on the arm of Narla’s chair, her eyes bright with the particular gleam she got when she was about to say something either brilliant or chaotic. “That’s compatibility. Your magic responds to his because you’re meant to be with him.”
“Junie—”
“I’m serious. Leo and I blew up a potion cabinet the first time we kissed.
Avine and Theo’s bond made the wardstones glow for three days straight.
Dahlia and Cal’s claiming nearly set the bakery on fire.
” Junie spread her hands. “Magical compatibility isn’t subtle.
It’s messy and explosive and occasionally destructive. But it’s not a flaw.”
“The surge is making it worse,” Cassia argued. “My power was already unstable before Aero arrived. Now it’s—”
“Responding to something it recognizes.” Dahlia took Cassia’s hands, her grip warm and steady.
“I spent years waiting for Cal to realize he’d made a mistake—that I was more burden than partner.
” Her smile was soft with memory. “He didn’t ask me to be less.
He just loved all of it. Every overwhelming, excessive, too-much part of me. ”
“That’s what you deserve too,” Avine added quietly. “Someone who doesn’t want you diminished. Someone who sees your storms and calls them beautiful instead of dangerous.”
“The weather doesn’t make you dangerous, Cassia.” Narla’s dark eyes held hers. “It makes you powerful. There’s a difference.”
Cassia’s throat tightened. She’d been bracing for judgment—for the carefully worded suggestions that she leave town until the crisis passed, that her presence was a liability, that she was too volatile to trust in a fight.
Instead, her friends sat around her like a shield wall, refusing to let her retreat into self-blame.
“You’re all being annoyingly supportive,” she managed. “It’s very inconvenient for my self-pity spiral.”
“That’s what we’re here for.” Junie grinned. “Crushing self-pity spirals since forever.”
A knock at the door interrupted them. Beck moved to answer it, his protective stance easing slightly when he recognized the visitor.
Rosemary Reed stepped into the room, clipboard in hand, and her auburn hair escaping from a practical ponytail. Junie’s cousin had the harried look of someone who’d been coordinating logistics for two days straight.
“Sorry to interrupt.” She glanced around the room, taking in the gathering with raised eyebrows. “I just needed to update you on the harbor evacuations. The fishing cooperative is being… resistant.”
“They don’t want to move their boats?” Avine asked.
“They don’t want to believe a tsunami is coming. Half of them think the weather anomalies are just—” Rosemary made air quotes. “Natural surge effects that will pass on their own.”
“Can’t imagine where they got that idea,” Cassia muttered.
“I’m handling it. Just wanted you to know we might need to invoke emergency protocols if they don’t cooperate by tomorrow.” Rosemary’s gaze drifted to Beck for a moment before she looked away. “How’s the patient?”
“Milking it for all the attention he can get,” Beck said dryly.
“I deserve it,” Delos countered. “I took a water construct to the wing. That earns me at least a week of sympathy.”
Rosemary’s lips twitched. “I’ll let you get back to your… meeting.” She nodded to the group and slipped out.
Cassia watched Beck watch her leave, noting the way his expression shuttered the moment the door closed. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she.
“Life’s too short,” Delos said quietly, to no one in particular. “Even for dragons. Don’t waste it on things you’re too scared to say.”
The words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been.
Cassia thought about all the things she hadn’t said.
To her mother before she died. To the men who’d left because she was too much.
To Aero, in those stolen moments between crises when she could feel the words building in her chest but couldn’t quite force them out.
“On that note,” Avine stood, brushing invisible crumbs from her lap, “I think our patient needs rest. We can continue this therapy session later.”
“I’m not tired,” Delos protested.
“You’ve been awake for six hours after nearly dying. You’re exhausted.” Avine’s tone brooked no argument. “Sleep. Doctor’s orders.”
“You’re not a doctor.”
“I’m the innkeeper. Same level of authority.”
Delos grumbled but settled back against his pillows. His eyes were already drooping, the conversation having taken more out of him than he’d admitted. Beck moved to adjust his blankets with a tenderness that made something in Cassia’s chest ache.
She gathered her cold tea and her brooding familiar and followed the others out of the room.