4. Clarissa
CLARISSA
S ome encounters rewrite destiny in the space between one heartbeat and the next.
I step into the library’s adjacent parlor, my heart racing, thoughts spinning with confusion and exhilaration.
The encounter with this stranger has left me reeling, my skin still tingling from his touch.
It was just a graze of his fingers against mine, a fleeting contact as he handed me the fallen book, but the effect was electric.
Never before had I felt such an incredible rush of energy.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I barely register Juliette’s presence until her voice cuts through the haze.
“Goodness, child. What’s the matter?” she asks, concern and amusement blending into her tone.
I blink, startled. Heat rises in my cheeks. I open my mouth to respond, but the words get stuck, tangled with the questions and sensations swirling in my mind.
Juliette’s brow furrows, her expression shifting from enjoyment to genuine worry. “Cat caught your tongue, dear?” she prods gently, patting the space beside her on the sofa in a silent invitation.
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of confusion that seems to have settled over me. “I’m sorry,” I stammer, my voice sounding strange and distant to my ears. “I just... Oh, it’s nothing.”
As I speak, a flicker of hesitation stops me.
It’s not that I don’t trust Juliette—she’s been my mentor and confidante since I arrived in Paris, guiding me through the Craft with unwavering dedication.
But this feels different. Private. The moment I shared with the stranger seems intimate, a secret I want to keep close to my heart.
And then there’s my ability as a seer. For as long as I can remember, I’ve glimpsed people’s pasts and futures, sensed the threads of destiny that bind them. A gift that’s only grown stronger under Juliette’s patient guidance.
But with that man… there was nothing. No flashes of insight, no whispers of fate. Just a void—an emptiness I’ve never encountered. It’s as if he’s shielded from my sight, his path cloaked in shadows that no spell can pierce.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine. Who is he, this man who so easily evades my gift? And what does it mean that our paths have crossed now, in this moment?
Juliette is watching me closely, her keen eyes seeming to see straight through to the heart of my confusion. “Nothing?” she says, her tone light and teasing. “You look like a woman who’s just been struck by lightning.”
The comment catches me off guard, perfectly timed, and I can’t help but burst into laughter.
It bubbles up from deep within, a release of the tension and uncertainty that’s been building in my chest. Juliette laughs with me, her warmth filling the space, and for a moment, the burden of my concerns lifts, replaced by camaraderie and shared mirth.
“ Lightning might be an understatement,” I manage between giggles.
Juliette’s eyes sparkle with mischief, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Ah, so it’s like that, is it?” she asks, her tone suggestive. “Do tell, my dear. Who is this mystery man who’s got you all in a tizzy?”
My cheeks flush at her words, embarrassment and excitement rushing through me.
“I... I don’t know,” I admit in a whisper.
“I’ve never seen him before. But when we touched…
Juliette, it was unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
A bolt of pure energy, straight to my core.
” I press a hand to my chest, heart racing under my palm.
Juliette’s gaze softens, her thoughts distant. “I know that feeling,” she murmurs, voice dreamy. “The first time I felt that pull—that undeniable connection—it was as if the ground moved beneath my feet. My whole world turned upside down.”
My lips ease into a gentle smile, assuming she speaks of her late husband. “You’re thinking of Willem, aren’t you?” I ask softly. The only dragon king in my lineage. His beast was said to be the shade of pure gold, just like my brother’s.
The change in Juliette is immediate and stark. Her dreamy expression vanishes, replaced by something cold and guarded. Her fingers tighten around her teacup until her knuckles go white, and when she speaks, her voice is barely controlled.
“Don’t.” The word cuts through the air like a blade. “Don’t speak that name.”
I flinch, shocked by the vehemence in her tone. “Juliette, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean?—”
“That name...” She sets down her cup with trembling hands, her composure cracking like ice under pressure. “It haunts me, child. In ways you cannot imagine.”
The pain in her voice makes my chest ache. I reach for her hand, finding it cold despite the fire’s warmth. “I don’t understand. Willem was your fated mate—the legacy you built together endures to this day.”
Juliette is quiet for a long moment, staring into the fire as if seeking answers in the dancing flames. When she finally speaks, her voice carries centuries of pain.
“There were two Willems in my life, Clarissa.” Her smile is bitter, hollow.
“One was my husband—your ancestor, Willem Von Draken. A good man, noble and true, handsome and patient.” Her voice softens with genuine tenderness.
“He loved me fiercely, with a quiet devotion that should have been enough. More than enough. Yet I was too young, too foolish to treasure what I had, and he was taken from me far too soon.”
She pauses, and I see her hands shaking before she clasps them tightly in her lap.
“And the other?” I prompt gently.
“The other...” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper.
“The other was the Dragon King, and he was everything he shouldn’t have been.
Dangerous. Cruel. Utterly compelling.” She pauses, her breath catching.
“A man who could make you forget your own name with a single glance.” She meets my gaze, and I see fear there—real, bone-deep terror.
A man whose touch brought only ash and ruin. ”
My blood turns to ice as tears gather in her eyes. “What happened?”
“He’s dead,” she says flatly, but there’s no relief in her voice. “Has been for centuries. And yet...” she trails off, shaking her head as if dispelling unwelcome thoughts.
“And yet?”
“Nothing.” She straightens, rebuilding her composure like armor. “Just an old woman’s memories playing tricks on her mind.”
But I catch the lie in her eyes, the way her stare darts to the shadows in the corners of the room, as if someone might be watching from the darkness.
“Juliette,” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“Enough of such bleak thoughts,” she says, though her smile is somewhat strained. “Tell me more about this connection you experienced. When souls recognize each other across impossible odds, it usually means a great deal.”
I want to press her about Willem—both Willems—but something in her posture warns me off. Instead, I describe the electric shock, the way time seemed to stop, the void where my visions should have been.
She takes my hand, her grip almost desperate. “Cherish this moment, Clarissa,” she says, voice serious. “No matter what happens next, remember this feeling. Hold it close and let it be your guiding light in times of darkness.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. Juliette’s words strike a chord deep within me, but now they carry a weight I hadn’t expected—a warning wrapped in blessing.
“I will,” I promise, determined.
Juliette smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good,” she says, giving my hand a final squeeze before releasing it. “Now, let’s examine these visions, shall we? I have a feeling we’re closer to unveiling the mysteries in your mind.”
We settle into our usual routine—conversations, laughter, shared secrets, and half-forgotten memories.
But even as we talk and the hours slip by, my thoughts keep drifting back to two things: the electric touch of the stranger’s hand, and the haunted look in Juliette’s eyes when I spoke that cursed name.
I don’t know who the stranger is, or what role he’s meant to play in my life. But I do know one thing with absolute certainty.
Nothing will ever be the same again.