Chapter 18
Krystal
Nathan, Bryce, and I sat at my dining table.
Bryce had his shoes on the wrong feet and his hair stuck up like he’d rolled in a puddle and let it dry there.
He’d taken exactly one bite out of his donut and then started dissecting it, poking out the center and turning it into a miniature volcano.
Nathan watched this ritual with an amused expression.
I stared at my coffee and tried to come up with the right words.
Nathan cleared his throat, then activated his dad-voice. "Do you remember what we talked about last night?"
Bryce shrugged, mouth full of dough. "About the parent thing?"
I fought the urge to laugh and instead nodded, pushing the donut box closer. "Yeah, bud. That thing."
Nathan leaned forward, folding his hands like a cop about to read Miranda rights. Old habits of a retired police chief. "Your mom got some important news, and we wanted to tell you together."
"Am I adopted?" Bryce asked, entirely too serious. "Cause Elle told me I was adopted from a zoo."
It was hard not to laugh at that. "Not adopted," I said, not sure if I should be relieved or worried that was what his first guess was. "But, um, it’s, okay, there’s no easy way, so I’m just going to say it. We found out who your father is."
Bryce dropped his hands to the table, fingers splayed. He was silent for a moment, the gears in his head grinding away. "Is it someone I know?"
My tongue stuck to my teeth. "It’s Zaden."
"He’s my dad?" Bryce said with a huge grin, as if he’d just realized he’d won a contest he never entered.
My hands gripped the coffee mug tighter. "Yeah, bud. He is."
There was a silence that wasn’t really silence, just the fizzing in my ears and the distant sound of the neighbor’s lawnmower, and then Bryce let out a whoop so loud the birds outside the window shot up into the air. "Cool!" he said, and I blinked at him, not sure if I’d heard right.
"Cool?" I repeated.
"Yeah! He’s a dragon! Does that mean I’ll shift into a dragon?"
I glanced at Nathan, who managed not to laugh. "Maybe. We don’t know for sure. But if you are, we’ll help you figure it out. And so will Zaden."
He nodded, but his mind was already sprinting. "So, does that mean if I get mad at stuff, I’ll set it on fire? Or like, if I sneeze really hard? Will my hair turn into horns?"
I snorted, and this time Nathan did let himself smile. "Probably not the hair," he said. "But it’s possible you might have some powers. We’ll keep an eye out. And Zaden wants to be here to help."
"Is he your mate?"
That was a little hard to explain but I went with the simple truth. "Yes, so you’ll be seeing him around more." I probably wouldn’t be able to get rid of him.
Bryce slumped back in his chair, looking happier than I’d seen him in months. "This is the best day ever." He wiggled in his seat, bouncing like he’d downed an energy drink.
"Glad you think so," I said, but even as I said it, I saw the shift in his face, the way the brightness dimmed, like a lightbulb catching a brownout.
He pressed his fingers to his temples, winced. "My head hurts," he said, the excitement leaking out of him.
My hands went cold. I reached across the table, my thumb tracing his brow. "Are you okay? Like a headache, or dizzy, or…"
"I dunno. It just hurts." He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. "Can I go lay down?"
I nodded. "Yeah, of course. I’ll bring you some Tylenol, okay?"
He mumbled an okay, slid off the chair, and trudged to his room, his steps suddenly clumsy and heavy.
Nathan watched him go, then turned to me, the alpha mask gone. "You did good," he said softly.
"I don’t know if I did," I said, barely more than a whisper.
"He didn’t freak out. That’s a win."
I shook my head, staring at my cold coffee. "The headache thing. That’s not normal, is it?"
Nathan’s jaw flexed. "He’s not normal, Krys. He never was. I mean that as a compliment. He’ll be fine. Rissa and I will keep an eye on him tonight, if you want to go in to work. Or just go see Zaden."
I looked at him, all that steadiness, and felt a rush of affection that hurt in a different way. "Thanks, Nathan. But I think I’m going to stay in tonight."
He nodded, and the silence settled over us, but not an awkward one. It was the hush of old friends who didn’t need to fill the air.
When Nathan finally left, after promising to text if anything changed, after hugging me with his big bear grip, Bryce was already asleep, sprawled on top of his covers, one hand draped off the edge of the bed.
I stood in the doorway for a long time, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, willing myself to believe that he was really as okay as he seemed.
Just as I entered the living room, my phone buzzed with a text message. The screen said ELEANOR. A spike of anxiety flashed through me. I hesitated, then opened the text.
I’ve found a way to break the spell. Need to see you tonight. Important.
My hands clenched around the phone. I wanted to throw it through the drywall, but instead I stared at the words until my eyes watered.
I heard Bryce stir upstairs, a thump and a mutter, but he settled right back into sleep.
A minute later, Nathan texted.
Still good?
He’s out. Thanks.
Then I went to the bathroom and splashed water on my face, the shock of it bracing.
I texted my mother.
Come to the house. I’ll be here.
I read the message twice before hitting send. For a second, the kitchen was silent except for the drip of the faucet, and the clock over the stove ticking out the seconds between one disaster and the next.
I left the phone on the counter and went to check on Bryce, the smell of rain starting to drift through the open window, promising change whether we liked it or not.
The house grew still, every clock in it ticking a little louder. I wiped the kitchen counter twice, then three times, before admitting to myself I was waiting for the next shoe to drop. When Eleanor knocked, it was so light I almost missed it, the whisper of knuckles over wood.
I opened the door apprehensively. She stood on the mat, rain dampening her hair into threads that clung to her face. Her eyes flicked over my shoulder, through the living room, to the stairs, and then back to me.
"Come in," I said stiffly.
She stepped inside and stood just off the rug, as if she were afraid her boots would sink through the floor. She scanned the house, every corner, every dust mote, then finally looked at me.
"Where’s the boy?"
The boy. I was microseconds away from reminding her that he had a name. What was the point? I jerked my thumb up the stairs. "Sleeping. Headache."
She made a non-committal sound, then walked slow circles around the entryway, as if casing the joint for ghosts. Her nose wrinkled. "I can feel the suppression."
I frowned. "You said you could break it?"
Eleanor waved me off. "I can. The suppression spell is unraveling. I could feel it before I hit the driveway. I tried to shield you from this, Krystal. I really did."
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I turned to walk into the living room.
She followed, scanning the space like a bloodhound tracking an invisible trail.
"Sit," she said, gesturing to my couch.
I obeyed, dropping into the cushions, which sighed under my weight.
Eleanor didn’t sit. She stood behind the armchair, fingertips pressed into the upholstery, eyes closed. For a minute, she breathed, each inhale a little sharper than the last.
"The block is destabilizing," she said. "Now that you’ve made contact with your mate, your magic and his are at war. It’s breaking down in unpredictable ways."
She opened her eyes, and I saw a flicker of fear there, quick and real. "We need to break it before it backfires. Otherwise, you might lose more than the mate bond."
I tried to joke it away. "Can’t lose what I never had."
She shot me a look. "Don’t play the martyr, Krystal."
I set the mug on the table, hands shaking. "So how do we do it?"
Eleanor paced, short steps, the kind that never let her get anywhere. "I need help," she said. "The spell was strong. Old magic, not the kind you get from a book or a YouTube video. I’d need another witch. One with a tie to you, or your mate, preferably."
I thought of Aurelia. She was part of the Beck Clan and connected to Zaden through their bond, similar to a pack bond. If there was anyone in town who could match my mother, it was her.
I said the name out loud, and Eleanor’s brows shot up. "The Beck witch? You trust her?"
I almost laughed. "I don’t trust anybody. But she’s Zaden’s clanmate and born of a dragon bloodline, and she has a reason to keep me alive. And I like her."
Eleanor nodded, accepting the logic. "Call her," she said. "Now."
I pulled my phone from my back pocket. I found Zaden’s number first. I hesitated, thumb hovering.
"You want me to do it?" Eleanor asked, like she could sense the stall.
"No," I said, dialing. "I got it."
It rang once, twice, then picked up. Zaden’s voice was soft, careful. "Hey."
I swallowed. "You got a minute?"
"Always," he said, no hesitation.
I heard background noise. Voices, laughter, maybe a TV. "Are you busy?"
He must have covered the phone, because the noise faded, then said, "Just me and Aurelia. What’s up?"
I steadied myself. "My mother’s here. She says the suppression spell is breaking down. She needs another witch to help reverse it. Aurelia’s the only one I’d trust enough not to screw me over."
A pause. "You want to talk to her?"
"Yeah. Put me on speaker."
Aurelia’s voice came through, bright and crisp. "Hi, Krystal. Always a pleasure."
I could almost see her smile.
"My mom says the spell’s going unstable," I said. "She needs another witch to help undo it. She says it could hurt me if we don’t act soon."
Aurelia didn’t waste time. "I can help. When and where?"
I glanced at Eleanor, who mouthed, soon.
"Bryce has school all week," I said. "He’s got a routine. If this goes sideways, I don’t want him here to see it. Saturday, maybe?"
Aurelia agreed, businesslike. "Saturday works. Here at Beck Manor. It’s neutral ground, and we can keep prying eyes away."
Eleanor leaned in, voice pitched low. "Ask her if she’s ever reversed a suppression of this type."
I relayed the question.
Aurelia’s tone stayed light, but I could hear the confidence. "I’ve done it once. It’s not pleasant, but it’s survivable. I’ll need a sample of the original caster’s blood, and a focus object from your mate. And you’ll need to be here, Krystal. In person."
"Understood," I said, and meant it. "What about after?"
"After," Aurelia said, "you’ll feel everything at once. It can be overwhelming. But it’s better than feeling nothing at all."
A chill crept up my arms. "Great."
Zaden spoke up, his voice threaded through with concern. "I’ll be there, too."
Aurelia said, "We’ll handle the logistics. Come Saturday, ten a.m."
I said I’d be there.
Before I could hang up, Zaden added, "Krystal?"
"Yeah?"
"I know you’re scared. But you’re not alone, okay?"
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. "I know."
He hung up, and the phone went silent in my palm. I wanted to say more, tell him about Bryce’s joyful reaction to finding out Zaden was his dad, but I didn’t want to get into all that while my mother was sitting there listening to everything I said.
Eleanor watched me for a beat, then said, "He’s good for you. Even if you don’t want to admit it."
I rolled my eyes. "Don’t start."
She smiled, tired. "I won’t. For now."
When she left, Eleanor squeezed my shoulder. "I’ll see you Saturday," she said. "Rest up."
I watched her walk down the drive. The house felt lighter, like someone had opened a window and let the air change. I stood by the sink, rinsing plates, and tried to imagine what it would be like to feel everything at once, to be unblocked, unbroken. It terrified me.
But it also felt a little like hope.