Chapter 4 #2
Julian shut down the display and looked up at me. “Cassara,” he said quietly, “I know it’s personal. But you need to be careful. The wards protecting that artifact are older than any of us. They won’t welcome you back like your clan will.”
I smiled, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “I’ve never needed a warm welcome.”
Con’s gaze met mine across the table—steady, unreadable, but laced with something that felt almost like understanding.
And for a brief moment, as the lights dimmed and the map’s glow faded, I couldn’t tell if the ache in my chest was dread… or homesickness.
The meeting broke with the scrape of chairs and the soft shuffle of boots on stone. Julian and Manu began collecting their notes, talking in low tones about flight routes, but their voices faded into the background as my thoughts drifted elsewhere—far north, to a city built of frost and memory.
Shadow Thorn. My sanctuary.
It had been years since I’d walked those old cobbled streets, the air so cold it burned, the cathedral bells echoing through narrow alleys like a heartbeat.
That place had felt alive—like a pulse of magic buried beneath the stone.
I’d built the clan there out of pride, out of hope, out of a need to believe that peace was possible for our kind.
But now, knowing an artifact had slept beneath it all along, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d built a fortress around a ticking bomb.
As the others gathered their things, my mind slipped somewhere darker. To Lilah.
Her laughter at the training ring, the way her eyes lingered on Constantine—bold, curious, unashamed. I could almost hear her again, her voice wrapping around his name like silk. She had no idea what kind of fire she was playing with. Or maybe she did.
An ache coiled low in my chest, and before I could shove the thought aside, something deeper stirred beneath my skin. My magic. It pulsed like a second heartbeat, sudden and hot, rising through my veins like a flood trying to break loose.
I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself. The air grew heavy, charged, the lights overhead flickering.
Con noticed first. His voice cut through the hum of the projector still cooling behind Julian. “Cass?”
I forced a breath, the words coming through clenched teeth. “We need to go. Now.”
His eyes narrowed, scanning me once, already assessing. “You’re burning up.”
“I know,” I hissed, pushing back from the table. “We have to get to my room before it breaks loose.”
Without hesitation, he was at my side, one hand at the small of my back, steadying but careful not to touch more than necessary. Together we left the conference room, the others calling after us, their voices dim against the roar in my head.
The corridors stretched long and shadowed, sconces along the walls flickering as we passed. My magic was growing wild, threading through my limbs in jagged bursts. Every nerve felt lit, raw, screaming.
“Keep breathing,” Con said quietly beside me, his tone the same one he used when commanding warriors on the edge of panic. It wasn’t a request—it was an anchor.
I nodded, though my vision was already starting to spark. “It’s different this time,” I managed. “It’s—stronger.”
“I can feel it.” His hand brushed my arm, grounding me as another surge rippled through my body. “Almost there.”
We reached my suite, and he pushed the door open with enough force to make it slam against the wall.
The moment we crossed the threshold, I stumbled, the pulse of energy spilling out like a storm.
Con caught me before I hit the floor, his grip firm, his body a solid barrier between me and the chaos unraveling inside me.
The lights flared, every candle igniting at once in a rush of golden fire. The air shimmered, thick with power that tasted like metal and lightning.
“Raven,” Con barked, already dragging his phone free with one hand while still holding me upright with the other. “It’s happening again.”
I barely heard the words. The power surged up my spine, fire and ice all at once, my vision fracturing into ribbons of color. My magic had always been tied to emotion—anger, grief, even the slightest whisper of jealousy—but this felt different. Deeper. Unchecked.
Raven burst into the room moments later, her magic already rising like a violet haze around her hands. “Don’t try to contain it,” she said, striding toward us. “I’m linking now.”
Con braced both arms around me as a gust of invisible force rolled through the room, rattling the glass in the windows. The smell of ozone thickened in the air, and then Raven’s power slipped through—soft at first, then intense as it collided with mine.
It was like two rivers crashing together. Light bloomed across the walls, threads of violet and gold twisting into one another, merging, fighting. The sound of it—if magic could make a sound—was like a thousand whispers all at once.
“Raven,” Con said through clenched teeth, “you need to pull her back.”
“I’m trying.” Her voice was distant but clear. “She’s drawing from you, Constantine. Your bloodline is feeding it. If we don’t break the link—”
“I’m not letting go,” he said.
“Then I’ll have to.”
There was a flash—cold and blinding—and then the energy snapped like a whip. The light vanished, the candles sputtered out, and I collapsed forward against him, chest heaving. The air felt scorched, the taste of metal lingering on my tongue.
Con’s hand found my face, tilting it toward him. His expression was hard, but his eyes… there was fear there, buried deep beneath the calm.
Raven’s voice came from beside me, breathless now. “You can’t keep doing this,” she said. “If you two keep linking like that without a bond, it’s going to kill you both.”
Silence stretched. My pulse thundered in my ears, the afterglow of power still crackling under my skin. Con’s grip tightened on my shoulders.
“She’s right,” I whispered, the words barely audible.
He didn’t answer at first, just looked at me for a long moment—the predator and the protector warring behind his gaze. Then he exhaled slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
“Next time,” he said quietly, “we call her sooner.”
I agreed, despite my uncertainty. The magic between us was too strong, too bound by something neither of us could explain.
And as the room settled back into silence, I could feel the echo of that elusive bond still thrumming through the air—alive, dangerous, and growing harder to ignore.