Chapter 15 #2
Instinctively, the power under my skin rose to the surface, responding to her proximity.
It rippled along my nerves like heated ink, prickling my palms, hitching my breath.
Raven’s pupils expanded, swallowing the color in her irises for a heartbeat, as if some part of her recognized and reached for the signature.
“There,” she said softly. “You feel that?”
I swallowed. “Yes.”
“It’s deeper than it was. The first time I tested it, it sat on top of you like a mantle. Heavy but separate. Now…” She lifted a hand, hesitated, then brushed her fingers along my forearm.
The contact sent a small shock through me. The power flared again, twisty and bright, reaching toward her like a plant seeking sunlight. For a second, I felt the echo of another heartbeat, slower and ancient, pulsing in time with my own.
Raven snatched her hand back, eyes wide. “That. That right there. It’s not just sitting on you anymore, Cass. It’s knitting into you. Rooting.”
My mouth felt dry. “Maybe that’s just… how it stabilizes.”
Her laugh held no humor. “You’re not a vessel, Cassara. You’re not a conduit. This isn’t how a loan behaves. This is how a transfer behaves.”
Constantine moved in front of me then, just a fraction, his presence a shield. “Are you saying you are losing permanent access to your power?”
“I’m saying if this keeps progressing, what I gave her might not come back,” Raven answered. “At least, not fully. It’s like I carved off a piece of myself. And now that piece is deciding it likes its new host.”
A flicker of anger pushed past the fear tightening my ribs and I stepped past Con. “So what? I’m stealing from you? Without meaning to?”
Raven’s expression softened. “No. This isn’t your fault.” Her gaze flickered toward the wall, toward where his room lay on the other side. “I knew the cost.”
“I thought it was temporary,” I insisted. “I would never have done it otherwise.”
Her mouth twisted. “I know, but the variables are different. We have Valerian’s interference, the compound in my veins, the way the clan network has been strained, the artifacts, the way power has been… rerouted lately. Everything is out of balance.”
My temper flared, a hot, protective surge. “Then we fix it. We find a way to restore your strength. Pull this out of me. Re-anchor it. I don’t care what it takes.”
Behind me, Constantine’s hand settled lightly against my lower back, grounding me. “We will find a way,” he said.
Raven’s eyes flicked between us, some of the tension in her jaw easing at the certainty in his voice. “I want to believe that,” she said. “I do. But you both need to understand something.”
She straightened, shoulders squaring despite the invisible weight pressing on them. Her hands opened and closed at her sides, as if she were relearning her own body.
“I’ve had foreign magic forced into me,” she went on.
“I know what it feels like when something inside you is wrong. I know what it feels like when someone tries to bind you, reshape you, make you into something else. This isn’t that.
” Her gaze locked onto mine, intense. “This feels like my magic and your soul decided to stop being separate things. It feels like they’re… negotiating terms of cohabitation.”
“That’s a horrible metaphor,” I said weakly.
“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly at my poetic best right now.” She blew out a breath, then pushed on. “The point is, if this solidifies, there may not be a way to cleanly separate us again. We could try, but we might do more damage pulling it apart than leaving it.”
“Damage to who?” I asked.
“To you.”
Silence stretched.
For a few seconds, the only sound was the tick of the antique clock on the dresser.
If Raven’s magic stayed with me, if it rooted and fused and refused to let go… what did that make me? What did that make her?
I clenched my hands, nails biting into my palms. “We will not let this destroy you or me.”
Raven’s gaze softened, something fragile and bleak flickering in it.
“I know you won’t stop until you fix it.
That’s part of why I’m telling you now. You deserve to know what you’re carrying.
” She swallowed. “And because if this keeps progressing, you might start feeling things that aren’t yours. Memories that don’t belong to you.”
A cold shiver ran through me. “That’s… already happening.”
Both of them looked at me intensely.
“When I’ve fought recently,” I admitted, forcing the words out, “sometimes I move before I think. Like my body knows patterns I never learned.”
He frowned, replaying previous battles in his mind. “Yes. I assumed you were unconsciously mimicking what you’d seen.”
“Maybe I was.” I shook my head. “But there are flashes. Pieces of… something. Places I’ve never been. Faces I don’t know. The taste of magic that isn’t mine. I thought it was just stress. Or Valerian trying to mess with me again. But maybe not…”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Raven said. “You’re starting to carry pieces of our history.”
I drew myself up, spine straightening. Fear quaked under my ribs, but I wrapped both hands around it and forced it into something else. Determination. Stubbornness. The refusal to accept that this was already decided.
“Then we find the seam,” I said. “We find where the magic is fusing and we figure out how to reinforce it. We have witches. Warlocks. Ancient vampires who’ve seen every kind of blood ritual under the moon. I don’t care if I have to crawl to every coven on the continent and beg.”
Raven’s expression softened around the edges. “You’re not the reason. Valerian is.” She took a step closer, then another, until she stood within arm’s reach. “But I needed you to stop pretending everything is fine so we can plan for the worst while we fight for the best.”
“I’m very bad at planning for the worst,” I said. “It usually involves me biting someone I shouldn’t.”
“That is your primary coping mechanism,” Constantine agreed.
I shot him a look. “Helpful.”
His lips quirked, but his eyes remained serious. “Raven, thank you for telling us. We will adjust our plans accordingly. After we speak to Julian, I’ll call in a few favors. There are scholars outside the clan who specialize in persistent magic bonds. They may have seen something like this before.”
Raven nodded, some tension draining from her shoulders. “Good. Because I’m running low on miracles. The weaker I become the weaker Rene is.”
“You won’t lose him,” I said again, more to myself than to her. “We’ll drag him back from whatever edge he’s flirting with.”
Her mouth twisted into a small, tired smile. “You better.”
She glanced toward the door leading to the hallway. “Go check on Julian. He told me he’s trying to get you into the auction, we need to know what we’re walking into. I’ll go sit with Rene.”
“You shouldn’t push yourself,” I said. “You still look—”
“If you say fragile, I will set your favorite boots on fire,” she cut in.
I closed my mouth.
Raven’s eyes softened again. “I’m tired, Cass. Not broken. And even if I were, I’d still sit with him.” Her fingers brushed that shimmer on her wrist again. “He’s carried me through more darkness than you know. I can sit beside his for a while.”
Something in my chest twisted. “Tell him I said he’s an idiot.”
“I tell him that hourly,” she said. “But I’ll add extra scorn on your behalf.”
“Perfect.”
She turned toward the connecting door, then paused, looking back at me. The playful glint faded, leaving something raw and honest in its place.
“Pay attention to how it feels,” she said quietly. “The magic. If it shifts. If it pulls. If you start hearing whispers that aren’t Valerian’s. Don’t shrug it off. Tell me. Tell Con. Even if it’s small.”
I nodded. “I will.”
“Good.” She hesitated for half a heartbeat, then stepped forward and pulled me into a brief, fierce hug. “You’re not alone in this, okay?”
“I know,” I said, voice catching around the words. “Neither are you.”
She released me, squared her shoulders, and slipped back through the connecting door. It clicked softly shut behind her.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the wood, feeling the ghost of her words settle over my skin.
Then Constantine’s hand found mine.
I looked up at him. His expression was composed, but the fury there was cold and focused, like a blade honed on a whetstone.
“We will fix this,” he said. It wasn’t a question. Or a wish. It was a vow.
I squeezed his fingers. “Damn right we will.”
He lifted my hand to his lips, brushed a kiss across my knuckles, then released me and moved toward the door leading into the hallway. “Come. Let’s see what Julian has for us.”