Chapter 39
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
KAEL
W e walk side by side down the long hallway from Sable’s chambers to Finn’s. The quiet is almost suffocating, and every step feels heavier than the last, weighed down by the tension in the air between us. I can feel her next to me, her presence there so vivid it almost overwhelms me. The way the fabric of her new outfit fits her—damn. I can’t help but glance at her, trying to push back the heat rising in my chest.
The clothes I made for her cling to her in all the right ways—practical but still showing off her form, making it hard to keep my focus. The way the green tunic falls over her body, the brown leather at her waist, the way she moves in it—it’s like she was made for it. Made for this. Made for me .
I feel a flicker of excitement coming from her, mixed with that underlying current of something I haven’t been able to pinpoint. She’s excited for what’s coming, but there’s something else there too. I feel it in our bond, a depth that was never there before. And damn, it’s unlocking something in me.
I want to tell her. I want to let her in. Let her see the side of me I’ve only ever shown my brothers. It’s strange— unnerving , even. But in the best way. Because, despite myself, I want her to understand me. I want her to know the part of me I’ve kept locked away for so long. Maybe Torin’s right—maybe this woman can help me. Not that I need help, though.
She catches me staring, and I quickly look away, swallowing the knot in my throat. The truth is, she’s so genuine. So real. And I’m starting to wonder if I’ve been lying to myself all this time, telling myself that I can keep everything at a distance. That I’m better off alone, detached from everyone else.
But with Sable? I feel like I don’t want to be alone anymore.
We arrive at Finn’s chambers, and I immediately sense the energy barrier that’s set up. The hum of it is faint but unmistakable, pulsing just beyond the door. The markings on the floor are intricate, ancient runes that I immediately recognize. They pulse with a kind of power that only comes from deep, ancient bloodlines. Finn's bloodline.
I stand there for a moment, letting my eyes trace the designs. The intricacies of these runes are impressive—far beyond anything most warlocks can manage. Runes like these are passed down through family lines, etched into the very bones of a family’s history. Finn’s family must have had this knowledge for generations. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about him—his mastery over magic, his connection to something far older than even the oldest warlocks.
I respect his choice not to return to his old life, while still mourning the knowledge and power he has yet to gain from it.
As we enter, I see Finn waiting by the center of the room. He looks up from his work and gives us a brief, steady nod .
“Come in, Sable,” Finn says, his voice calm and measured, like he’s already in the zone, prepared for whatever comes next. “I’ve set up a few things for us to test. I need to know what we’re working with.”
Sable looks at me for reassurance, her gaze shifting from Finn to me, and for a moment, I’m caught off guard. That look in her eyes— trust . It’s a soft thing, a vulnerable thing, but it’s there. And it almost breaks me. The idea that she’s looking to me for answers, that she’s trusting me...
I give her a small nod, trying to keep my voice steady as I meet her gaze. “You’re fine, little huntress. Just do as Finn says, and everything will be fine.”
She hesitates for a split second but then steps forward, crossing the threshold into the room where the runes are etched into the floor, glowing softly in the dim light. I can’t help but watch her—watch the way she moves, the way she takes each step, even in the face of the unknown.
She’s stronger than I gave her credit for.
Finn watches her carefully as she stands just inside the circle of runes. His gaze flicks to me for a moment, a silent understanding passing between us. He gestures for her to come closer.
“Step into the center,” Finn instructs, his voice calm, but with an undertone of something else. Maybe excitement? I can’t tell. “It’s safe. The runes are set to protect you while we work.”
She steps into the middle, her eyes briefly flicking to mine for reassurance again. I give her a soft smile, a quick flash of something almost tender, but it’s enough for her to settle. And it’s enough for me to realize just how deeply she’s starting to affect me.
“Alright, Sable,” Finn says, his tone professional now. “I want to run some tests. I have some theories about what your powers might be, but we need to know for sure.”
She nods, her posture straightening as she stands tall. I can feel the slight nervousness coming from her through the bond, but there’s also determination. She’s not backing down.
“Okay,” she says, her voice just a little shaky.
Finn pulls three objects from the table and places them in front of her. The first is a simple rock, unremarkable at first glance. The second is a cup of water, shimmering faintly in the light. The third is a lit candle, the flame dancing steadily, casting a warm glow around the room.
“Now,” Finn says, his tone taking on an almost clinical edge, “I want you to move your hand over each of these items. Close your eyes and just feel them. See if you can sense any power in them, or if you can manipulate them in any way.”
Sable looks at the objects, then back at Finn. I can sense the tension in her, the wariness in her mind as she hesitates. I send her a pulse of reassurance, the feeling washing over her as I push a sense of calm through our bond. She reacts almost immediately, her shoulders relaxing and her breath evening out.
“Take your time,” Finn says, watching her carefully. “There’s no rush.”
Sable takes a breath, closing her eyes, her hand hovering above the rock. The air in the room seems to tighten. I watch her, my senses on high alert, and I can feel the weight of the silence settling in around us. For a long moment, she doesn’t move. She’s focusing, I can tell, but the intensity is palpable. I feel it.
I can’t sense what she’s doing—her power is blocked by the runes surrounding us—but there’s something happening. I don’t need to see it to know. I can feel it in the air, in the way the room seems to hold its breath .
And then— there’s a shift .
It happens so quickly I almost miss it. The rock moves, floating into her hand. Her fingers curl around it, holding it firm and steady. I blink, surprised by how easily it obeys her. Sable opens her hand to show Finn, her expression both pleased and slightly taken aback by the result.
Finn exchanges a look with me, his gaze thoughtful, even impressed. “Well done, Sable,” he says, his voice even, like he’s already moved past the shock of it. “Now, move to the water.”
She doesn’t hesitate, but there’s a shift in her energy, a subtle current I can feel through the bond. She lifts her hand above the glass, her focus locked on it. For a moment, nothing happens.
Then suddenly, she yelps.
The water splashes violently, shooting up against her fingers, the surface rippling wildly as if it has a mind of its own. Sable pulls her hand back with a startled laugh, but there’s a flicker of fear in her eyes that she quickly tries to hide.
“Just control it,” Finn instructs, his voice calm but firm. “Now, move to the fire.”
Sable nods, but her brow furrows in concentration as she moves her hand toward the lit candle. I watch closely, my eyes narrowing, trying to catch any sign of her powers at work. Nothing happens at first.
And then, just like that, the flame begins to grow. Slowly at first, like a trickle of warmth building beneath the surface. But then— it leaps . The flame shoots upward, almost out of control, the heat increasing rapidly, and I can see Finn’s expression shift. He moves quickly, pushing her hand out of the way so it doesn't get singed, his own powers surging to contain the flame. With a flick of his wrist, the flame calms, settling back into its usual size.
He exchanges another look with me, something unreadable passing between us. But Finn doesn’t show it, not to Sable, at least. He clears his throat, his tone shifting to something more instructional.
“Alright,” Finn says, his eyes on Sable, “Now I want you to hold your two hands together, just an inch apart from one another. Focus on the space between them. Try to harness it.”
Sable looks at him, skeptical, her brows drawing together. “Focus on the air ?” she asks, her voice laced with disbelief. “Are you serious?”
Finn nods, unperturbed. “You can do it. Trust me.”
Sable sighs, but she holds her hands as instructed, palms facing each other, the faintest gap between them. She concentrates, but at first, nothing happens. I can feel the frustration coming off of her—sharp and quick, like a jolt of static. She pushes harder, but still, the air remains still.
I push calm and determination through our bond, silently urging her to try again. I feel her pause, a flicker of doubt slipping away as she takes a deep breath. I send her reassurance— you can do this . The second she gets her focus back, I feel the slightest shift.
A soft tug. A whisper of movement in the air. I watch as the air between her hands starts to shift, a faint circulation, almost imperceptible, but it’s there.
Finn notices it too. His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of concern in his expression. He masks it quickly, though, his face returning to its usual calm. “Excellent work, Sable,” he says, though I can tell his mind is already working, already analyzing what just happened. “This is just the start. But it will take a lot out of you, especially the manipulation of the elements like this. You need to rest after this. We’ll pick up again later.”
Sable nods, her expression flushed with effort but satisfied. “Yeah,” she says, her voice softening. “I am a little tired. And... honestly, I feel pretty hungry too.”
Before Finn can respond, the door to the chamber creaks open.
I turn my head, and Torin steps into the room, looking like he’s just come from some wild, reckless battle. His eyes flick to Sable, and his smile widens in that maddening, carefree way of his.
“What’s this?” Torin asks, eyeing us with curiosity.
Finn’s eyes flicker to me, and I can see the brief amusement behind his gaze. “Perfect timing, Torin,” Finn says, as if he’s happy for the distraction. “Sable’s hungry, so maybe you can... feed her.”
Torin strides into the room without missing a beat, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “My kitten is hungry? Well, we can’t have that now, can we?”
Before any of us can react, he scoops Sable up effortlessly into his arms. She laughs, the sound light and carefree, and for a moment, the tension that has been building in me from the bond melts away. There’s something about seeing her like this—laughing, carefree—that makes me feel... almost relieved.
But Torin doesn’t stop there. He lifts her over his shoulder, carrying her out of the room, completely oblivious to the runes or what just happened here. The energy in the air shifts with their exit, and I’m left standing there, feeling the weight of everything that just transpired.
Once they’re gone, Finn turns to me, his face more serious than before. “So,” I say, my voice low, “what do you think?”
Finn looks at me, his expression hardening slightly. He doesn’t speak right away, but I can feel the weight of his answer hanging in the air. When he finally speaks, his voice is clear, without hesitation.
“There’s no doubt in my mind, Kael,” he says, his words solidifying the truth in the air. “She is a witch.”