Chapter 49
Chapter
Forty-Nine
FINN
T he air hums with residual energy as Sable’s hand trembles, the last flicker of her magic sputtering out. The room is dim, the runes on the walls glowing faintly, absorbing the raw power she’s been channeling for the last hour. She sways on her feet, and I’m across the room in an instant, steadying her with a firm grip on her arm.
“Sit,” I order, guiding her toward the chair near my desk. Her breathing is ragged, her cheeks flushed from exertion, but there’s a fire in her eyes—determined, unyielding. “You pushed too hard.”
“I’m fine,” she insists, though the weakness in her voice betrays her. “I can go again.”
“No, you can’t,” I say, sharper than I intended. I take a breath, reigning in the frustration that always seems to bubble to the surface around her. “Pushing yourself like this won’t help. Magic is as much about control as it is about power. If you burn yourself out, you’ll have nothing left when it matters.”
She huffs but doesn’t argue, leaning back in the chair and closing her eyes. “It’s just... it’s frustrating,” she admits. “I’m not used to feeling this—this out of control.”
Her words tug at something in me. Control. It’s something I’ve clung to my entire life, something I’ve built walls around to ensure I never lose it again. But with her, everything feels... unsteady. Unpredictable.
“You’re making progress,” I say after a moment, leaning against the desk and crossing my arms. “More than I expected, honestly.”
She opens one eye to glare at me. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
I almost smirk but catch myself. “You’re doing well,” I admit, softer this time. “Better than I thought possible.”
Her expression shifts, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not so bad at this whole encouraging thing, you know.”
“Don’t get used to it,” I mutter, but the corner of her smile stays with me.
For a moment, there’s only silence between us, the faint hum of the runes the only sound. Then she looks up at me, her expression serious. “Finn... what Torin said. About you thinking I’m a witch. Is it true?”
I tense, the question hitting like a blade. Of course Torin would say something. He can’t ever keep his mouth shut.
“I—” I hesitate, weighing my words. I’ve been avoiding this conversation for a reason. “It’s complicated.”
She straightens, the exhaustion on her face momentarily replaced with curiosity. “Complicated how? Finn, just tell me.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “There’s a prophecy,” I begin, the words heavy on my tongue. “It’s ancient—older than any of us. That which is lost may yet still be found. That which was taken may yet be reclaimed. And that which is bound by blood shall rise again. ”
She tilts her head, her brows furrowing. “And you think... I’m part of that?”
“When you arrived and shattered that goblet with nothing but a flicker of your emotions, I knew you weren’t like the others,” I say, my voice steady now. “I tested you. Your magic—it’s elemental. Witches, true witches, were born of the earth. Their powers are tied to its elements. Fire, water, air, earth. Warlocks’ magic is... different. Derived from contracts, rituals, and bloodlines. But yours—it’s pure.”
Her face pales slightly, and she looks down at her hands. “And what does that mean for me?”
“It means you’re powerful,” I say, my voice firm. “More powerful than you can imagine, if you learn to harness it. But it also means... warlocks will come for you. They always have. It’s why witches were hunted to near extinction. Your soul, if consumed, would give them a lifetime of power.”
Her breath catches, and I can see the fear flicker across her face. “Have... have others sensed it?”
“Not yet,” I assure her. “The runes I’ve set around our chambers shield your power signature. But as you grow stronger, I can’t guarantee they’ll hold. And if they don’t... it won’t just be dangerous for you. It’ll be dangerous for all of us.”
Her lips part slightly, her breath shallow. “You’re saying I’m putting you all at risk?”
“I’m saying that your powers are... complicated,” I say carefully. “And we need to be prepared for what happens next.”
Her shoulders sag, and for the first time, I see a crack in her defiance. “So, what? You’re going to cast me out? Send me away before I become a problem?”
I blink, startled by the raw vulnerability in her voice. “ Sable, no,” I say quickly, stepping closer. “That’s not what I meant.”
Her eyes glisten, and I realize I’ve said too much. Done too much to push her away when all I’ve wanted was to keep her safe. “I’m sorry,” I say softly, lowering myself to kneel in front of her. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like... like you’re unwelcome here. I would never cast someone out, not after knowing what it feels like to be discarded myself.”
She looks at me, her lips trembling slightly. “Then why have you been so standoffish?” she whispers. “Why do you keep me at arm’s length?”
The question hits me like a blow, and for a moment, I don’t know how to answer. But the weight of her gaze pulls the truth from me. “Because I’ve been betrayed before,” I admit, my voice quiet. “Because I trusted someone once, and it cost me everything.”
Her brow furrows, and I can see the questions forming in her mind. “What happened?” she asks softly.
I take a breath, the memory pressing against my chest like a vice. “I was engaged,” I say finally. “To a woman I thought I loved. I gave her everything—my trust, my family’s heirlooms, even my father’s ring. But she used it against me. She betrayed me, stole from my family, and aligned herself with our enemies. I tracked her down, thinking I could get it all back, but... the relics were gone. Destroyed. Along with any chance I had of reclaiming my place with my family.”
Her gaze softens, her hand reaching out to brush against mine. “That must be a heavy burden to carry,” she says gently.
“It is,” I admit, my fingers rolling the ring between my knuckles. “But it’s one I’ve carried for years. One I have to carry.”
She hesitates, then squeezes my hand, stopping its movement. “Finn... you’ve built something here. You have Torin and Kael. They’re your family now. And you... you’ve been good to me. You’ve given me a chance to learn, to grow. I’m grateful for that.”
Her words hit deeper than I expect, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. She’s so close, her warmth seeping into me, her scent filling my senses. I don’t realize how tightly I’m gripping her hand until she shifts slightly, her eyes searching mine.
“Sable,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
The space between us feels too small, too charged. I can feel the pull, just like the others must have felt, thrumming with unspoken words, unfulfilled promises. My hand lifts, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and her breath catches.
“Finn,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.
And in that moment, everything else fades away.