Chapter 10
Sahara stood at the head of the long table in the war room, though she preferred to call it a “strategic divination chamber.” Joell had rolled her eyes at that, which only encouraged Sahara to use the term more often.
At the moment, Joell was pacing. “I’m just saying, we should’ve run a containment sweep the second we docked. If that compass is still leaking residual energy—”
“It isn’t leaking,” Sahara interrupted smoothly, her Egyptian accent sharpening her words. “It was calling. To her.”
Lioness looked up from her sketchpad, where she was halfway through another impossible rendering of the Sea Witch’s demise — this one featuring more tentacles than accuracy. “You mean Crystal?”
“Yes.” Sahara set the towel-wrapped compass on the table. Even bound in layers of silk and protective sigils, it vibrated faintly, as if something deep within it was trying to breathe. “She’s attuned now. Whatever that creature was, it left a mark.”
Victoria arched an immaculate brow. “So, our beloved sister witch is carrying around a magical tracking beacon for an aquatic demon. Merveilleux.”
Brianna frowned from the far end of the table, hands wrapped around her mug of tea. “She nearly drowned saving the rest of us. Maybe we should skip the judgment and focus on how to help her.”
Rayna, leaning against a bookcase, crossed her arms. “Agreed. What kind of mark are we talking about? Because her skin’s still glowing like a rave bracelet.”
“That light isn’t residual magic,” Magda said quietly. Her tone was the kind that made the others pause. The healer’s voice brooked no argument. “It’s resonance. Her aura’s synchronizing with something vast. Elemental.”
Joell stopped pacing. “Like the ocean?”
Sahara nodded. “Not the Sea Witch. The sea itself.”
Silence dropped like a stone. Even the mansion’s enchanted map of ley lines on the wall flickered uncertainly.
Finally, Lioness broke it with a muttered, “Well, that’s not ominous at all.”
Victoria sighed and sank gracefully into a chair. “So, what’s our next move, Commander?” she asked pointedly — at Joell.
Joell straightened automatically. “First, we secure the artifact. Then we—”
“—do nothing until I finish my analysis,” Sahara cut in, calm but firm. “You’re very good at logistics, Joell, but this is my rotation in charge.”
Rayna’s mouth quirked. “Uh oh. Mom and Mom are fighting again.”
“Quiet, imp,” Sahara said without looking at her. The compass gave a sudden pulse, and the candles guttered out. In the brief darkness, faint blue light rippled across the walls like reflections off a deep pool.
When the candles reignited, Lioness’s sketchbook had changed. The unfinished drawing now showed Crystal lying in her bed upstairs, surrounded by a faint corona of light that seemed to flow outward in tendrils.
Magda leaned forward, eyes wide. “That’s not nothing. That’s a link.”
Sahara drew in a slow breath. “Yes. The sea isn’t done with her. And if we don’t stabilize that connection soon…”
Rayna finished for her. “It’s going to come knocking.”
A low creak rolled through the mansion. The table trembled. For a heartbeat, they all heard a distant, echoing seagull crying.
“Is that Crystal’s familiar?” Brianna asked.
Lioness exhaled. “Yeah. I’d say the ocean’s threat is already at the door.”
The mansion’s hum had changed. It used to sound like home, soft magic under wood and stone, steady as a heartbeat. Tonight, it sounded like the tide, restless and waiting.
Crystal sat propped against a mound of pillows, staring at her own hand as faint blue veins shimmered beneath the skin. The glow pulsed in time with the whisper in her ears. Not words, but rhythm. The sea was breathing. The sea remembering.
She pressed her palm to her chest, trying to quiet it. “Not now,” she whispered.
The whisper faded, carrying the scent of salt and rain. The glass of water on her nightstand quivered. Ripples bloomed across the surface, and her stomach tightened.
“Easy,” she murmured to herself. “You’re on land. You’re safe. Stay here.”
The mansion creaked in answer.
Then came a soft knock and Mason’s cautious voice. “Permission to enter?”
She wanted to tell him no, to spare him the sight of what she’d become. Instead, she sighed. “Door’s not locked.”
He slipped in, still in his faded jeans and black T-shirt, hair damp from a shower. His eyes flicked immediately to her glowing hand. “Guess Sahara wasn’t exaggerating.”
Crystal pulled the blanket higher, half embarrassed, half defensive. “It’s not contagious.”
“Didn’t think it was,” he said, stepping closer. “You okay?”
She laughed, short and brittle. “Define okay. My bloodstream’s auditioning for a light show, and the Atlantic won’t stop whispering in my head.”
He hesitated, then sat on the edge of the bed. “You scared the hell out of everyone down there. Joell’s tearing the compass apart. Rayna’s trying not to punch her. Feels like business as usual, except everyone’s terrified.”
Crystal tilted her head. “And you?”
“I’m just pretending I know how to help.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You always do that, you know. Dive first, think later.”
“It’s my specialty.”
He leaned in, catching her gaze. “Then let me be the one thinking next time.”
Something in her chest cracked open. A mix of exhaustion, gratitude, and too many things she couldn’t name overwhelmed her. “Mason…”
Before she could finish, the water glass beside her burst. Shards clattered against the wood floor, and a thin stream of water slithered down her skin and vanished.
She gasped. “Did you see—”
“Yeah,” he said, eyes wide. “And I’m really starting to hate that ocean.”
Her pulse raced. “It’s not attacking. It’s calling.”
“Then tell it to leave a voicemail.”
She almost smiled, then shivered. “If Sahara’s right, it’s not done with me.”
Mason’s jaw tightened. “Then we don’t let it take you back.”
Outside, thunder rumbled faintly, though the storm had long passed. The glow under her skin flared once, then dimmed again.
She slumped against the pillows, suddenly tired. “You can’t fight the ocean, Mason.”
“Maybe not,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “but I can damn well hold onto what it’s trying to steal.”
“Then hold me. Please.”
He crawled into the king-sized bed beside her and pulled her into his arms.
The whisper in her head quieted for the first time since the battle. The sea’s call receded, for now.
Crystal closed her eyes, letting the sound of his heartbeat drown out the waves.
Mason’s warmth seeped through the blanket first, the quiet, steady kind that didn’t demand anything and just existed. Crystal let herself sink against him, every muscle unclenching by degrees. The rhythm of his breathing filled the space where the sea’s whisper had been.
His fingers brushed her shoulder, then traced the glowing veins down her arm, following their faint blue light. “I’m burning cold,” she murmured.
“Then let’s warm you up,” he whispered back, then smoothed his hand over her ribs, through the fabric of her T-shirt, being tentative, reverent. The glow brightened under his touch, reverberating like a heartbeat.
Her laugh was soft, incredulous. “You’re making me light up.”
“I’ll take that as encouragement.”
When she looked up at him, his expression wasn’t teasing anymore. It was hungry, but a little scared too.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I almost lost you, and I don’t want to let you go into that ocean again. She reached up, catching his face between her palms, and kissed him before either of them could think better of it.
The kiss started slowly, tenderly, and then the world tilted. Magic hummed through her veins, warm as the tide, pulling them closer until even the room around them seemed to dissolve. The ocean that had haunted her went quiet, finally!
His breath hitched as she tangled her fingers in his hair. He deepened the kiss, mouth firm and searching, one hand sliding up her spine. The pulse beneath her skin matched the rhythm of his heartbeat, then heated, like the tide rising, pulling them under.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together. The glow had spread. It was a faint shimmer across both of them now.
Mason whispered, “Guess it’s contagious after all.”
She smiled against his lips. “Good.”
The storm outside grumbled like a jealous god, but inside the room, everything stilled. The mansion, and even the air, were at peace. There was only breath and warmth and the unspoken promise of what came next.
The light dimmed slowly, like a sunset sinking into the horizon. Crystal welcomed Mason’s loving attention well into the night.
The library smelled like sea salt and scorched sage. Ugh. The witches had gathered around the long oak table, looking every inch the coven tribunal they were pretending not to be.
Crystal stood near the window, arms crossed, watching waves crash against the cliff below. Mason hovered just behind her like backup she hadn’t asked for but wasn’t ready to refuse.
Joell cleared her throat. “All right, everyone’s here. Let’s get this over with before Lioness starts doodling on the wallpaper again.”
“I was going to doodle on Mason, actually,” Lioness said sweetly, twirling a pen. “He needs a magical tattoo.”
Mason raised his hands. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Focus,” Joell said, a tone that made even the raccoon on Victoria’s shoulder sit up straighter. “Litha’s tomorrow. The mansion will relocate to Tennessee at sunrise. But before that,” She turned her gaze on Crystal. “We need to set some boundaries.”
Crystal arched a brow. “Is this the part where you all tell me to stop saving the world in my sleep?”
“Something like that,” Sahara said, dry as parchment. “No disappearing acts. No communing with mysterious ocean entities without a magical sister chaperone.”
Magda folded her arms. “Especially not after that incident with the glowing veins.”
Crystal’s pulse flickered in response, a faint shimmer beneath her skin. “It wasn’t exactly voluntary.”
Joell softened slightly. “We know. But we also know you. You’ll go charging off again if we don’t make you promise.”