Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Mason paced in front of the bed, feeling like a caged animal.
His gaze kept returning to Rowen—hoping, praying, begging for the slightest twitch, a flutter of lashes.
Anything. The longer she lay there, still as stone, the more his fear grew.
Dread gnawed at him, and his thoughts spiraled into dark places he couldn’t bear to stay in.
“I don’t like this,” he ground out, voice rough with a terror he could no longer contain. “I don’t bloody like this one bit.”
Ferne stood beside Rowen, wringing her hands. “Maybe I can try and reach out to her through my mind.”
Mason stopped in his tracks, hope exploding through him like a fireworks display on New Year’s. “Do you think it’s possible?”
“I won’t know until I try.”
Concern made him falter. He refused to put Ferne in harm’s way just to save Rowen. “What are the repercussions?”
Ferne turned her head to him and shrugged. “I won’t know until I try. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to reach her, but I’m willing to attempt it.”
Mason wanted to contact Rowen more than anything, but they had no idea what they were dealing with. There was a good chance that something could happen to his sister in the process, and that was unthinkable. “I can’t ask it of you.”
“You’re not. I offered.”
He shook his head. “Forget it. I won’t take the chance that you’ll get hurt. Rowen is already out of my reach. I can’t have something happen to you, too.”
“You love her, don’t you?”
Mason walked to the foot of the bed and released a sigh. “Yes.”
“Does she know?”
“It wouldn’t matter. There can be nothing between us.”
Ferne turned to face him, frowning. “Don’t you dare say that. If you love her, then you’ll find a way to be together. Who cares about London or this war? Look at me and Theo and all the others who are in relationships.”
“I’m not the one pushing her away, sis.”
“Oh,” Ferne said softly, realization dawning across her face.
His lips twisted ruefully. “She told me we could only have one night, and I accepted that.”
“She cares for you. I’ve seen it.”
“You can’t force someone to be in a relationship. It doesn’t matter how much I love her if she doesn’t want to be with me.”
Ferne walked to him and took his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I found my soulmate. She saved my life and kept me safe, and I got to have one amazing night with her. That’s more than most people ever get.”
“You should have it all, Mas. The happily ever after and everything that goes with it.”
He shrugged. “My love life doesn’t mean anything right now. Getting Rowen back is what’s important.”
“Then I’m going to try and reach her. And I don’t need your permission,” she stated firmly when he tried talking over her.
“Maybe you don’t, but I think you owe it to Theo to let him know what you intend to do.”
Ferne returned to the chair next to the bed and sat. “Then you’d better find him quick.”
Mason raced out of the room and down the hall, yelling for Theo. Within seconds, Theo came bounding up the steps with Carlyle and Song on his heels. Mason explained what Ferne intended as they walked back to the bedroom.
Theo was the first through the door. Mason watched him lean down and whisper something in Ferne’s ear.
She smiled up at him and nodded, love shining in her eyes.
Theo placed a kiss on her forehead and moved behind her, his hands on her shoulders.
Ferne shot Mason one last look before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.
“No. Absolutely not,” Rowen stated resolutely. She refused to believe she had the power to do what she had been shown.
“Deny it all you want, but it’s true.”
“I would know if I could do those things. My magic is gentle. It doesn’t destroy.”
“You may think your magic is soft, that it hears and blends with nature, but those were just the tendrils of something vast and sleeping, waiting to wake.”
She slashed her hand through the air, and just like that, she was standing before the loch again. “Enough! I’m done with this. With you.”
“Don’t you want to know where that power comes from?”
“You’re lying. About all of it.”
“A small part of your mind knows I’m telling the truth. You’ve felt the potency of your magic before, but you’ve never dared to reach for it fully.”
Rowen was finished with this game. She had moved past fearful to enraged. “If you know so much, then show yourself. Show me who you really are, instead of just talking to me.”
Something caught at the edge of her vision.
She turned her head as the air flickered with wavy lines.
A form gradually began to take shape, as if molecules were being pieced together.
When the vision cleared, Rowen was stunned at the being before her.
They were beautiful, but in a way that felt entirely wrong.
Not masculine. Not feminine. Not quite human.
Their face was a study in symmetry with high cheekbones, wide, full lips, and eyes of molten amber, their pupils vertical and unnerving like those of a predator unmasked.
Skin untouched by time or sunlight shone like polished marble, making them appear carved from stone, rather than born.
Silvery blond hair flowed fine as mist to their shoulders in soft waves, neither styled nor wild.
Layers of clothing—robes, or perhaps a coat—in shades of deep charcoal and dull pewter draped fluidly across their frame, concealing their shape. Every edge was sharp, the folds deliberate. There were no buttons, fastenings, or even seams. Just fabric that moved like smoke.
“Is this what you want? Does this form make this seem more real?” the being asked.
The voice that had once sounded feminine now defied category. It wasn’t high nor low, soft nor loud. It hummed with an unnatural resonance that made Rowen want to run away. “There is nothing about any of this that is real.”
“On the contrary, I’ve shown you what you’re capable of.”
“And why you want to use me.”
The being’s lips curled in a creepy smile. “Come now. You’ve seen the decline in Druids. Even those around you back home have had their magic wane. You can fix that.”
“You’re really trying to put all of this on me. How very…human of you.”
“You help people. Look what you did for Mason. He would’ve died without you.”
The more the being spoke, the more incensed Rowen became. “Stop talking as if you care about any of us. I see you for what you are. I see your actions for what you’re after.”
“I’ve never hidden my intentions. I told Kerry and Edie everything up front, just as I am with you.”
“You fucking preyed on vulnerable people.”
The being smirked and lifted one shoulder an inch before lowering it. “I saw women who had been bullied, betrayed, and overlooked. I saw Druids who held something special inside them that just needed a bit of nourishing.”
“You turned Kerry into a killer.”
A single finger lifted in response. “I do not turn anyone into anything. I see into their soul to their deepest, darkest desires and give them the means to become the people they’ve always wanted to be.
For Kerry, it meant taking out decades of anger on others.
For Edie, it was getting rid of a cheating husband and breaking free of unpleasant, ungrateful children. ”
“And me?” Rowen demanded. “What would you be doing for me?”
“You would be the biggest prize of all, my dear. A nexus of origin, if you will. You aren’t just any Druid.
You’re the reincarnation of one of the first Druids.
A figure so powerful that you were once worshipped as a goddess.
You’re a primal force born when humans and magic were raw and untamed.
Your return has woken dormant magic. We can’t forget that you’re also a living conduit between realms, where magic flows.
You are both a bridge and a source, a convergence point.
And a rebirth. Your presence alone keeps the fabric between worlds stable. ”
She gave a firm shake of her head. “This is all a dream. I hit my head or something. None of this can be real.”
“If you wish to travel to another world, all you have to do is open yourself fully. You can channel energy from any realm. It’s the kind of power others kill for. With one wave of your hand, you can be worshipped again.”
“I don’t want to be worshipped. I want this—you—to end.”
The resolve that crossed the being’s face was spine-chilling. “You can’t stop what’s happening. Even if the Skye Druids find the third pillar, it wouldn’t prevent the great battle. Our time is now. Join us, and I’ll spare your family. I’ll even grant you Mason as your lover.”
“No.” Rowen put every ounce of energy, anger, and fortitude she had into the word. She didn’t want the thing she spoke with to have any doubts regarding her response.
“How…pedestrian of you. I expected more from you. Of you.”
“I don’t care.”
The atmosphere suddenly shifted, turning lethal and dangerous.
She sensed the killer within the unholy body rising, altering.
Growing. The mask of their once serene expression slid away as the air around them thickened and became charged.
Whatever kindness had been in their eyes vanished, leaving behind twin pools of molten amber—hot and unforgiving.
“I want you to remember that I tried to be nice,” the being stated as it took a step forward.
Its movements were predatory, like a snake ready to strike. For a heartbeat, terror froze Rowen in her tracks. Then she realized that if she were dead, the being couldn’t use her or force her hand. It was the perfect strategy.
The individual began to laugh, softly at first, the sound growing the longer it continued.
Finally, it dragged in a deep breath. “Did you really think I would go after you? That would be too easy. Who should it be first? Your mother? Or maybe Mason. I wonder how much he would beg to see you one last time.”
Magic pooled in Rowen’s hands without thought.
She had never been so infuriated, had never felt such hatred.
Her power felt different this time. It was stronger, thicker.
Heavier. She sensed the unadulterated, raw potency of it.
She lurched away from it in fear, but only for a moment.
This was her magic. There was nothing to be afraid of.
Then she reached for more of it, calling to the ancient magic that coursed through her blood, through her soul.
“You really shouldn’t have threatened them,” Rowen said as she raised her arms and turned the full force of her wrath on the being.