He gives me his complete attention, that focused intensity that makes me feel like the only thing in his world.
“The visions come in layers,” I explain. “Surface impressions triggered by touch or emotion—those are relatively clear. But deeper visions, the ones about important moments, those are more complex. They show branching possibilities, decision points, futures that depend on specific choices.”
“Like seeing me die?”
“Yes. But today, when I touched Jace, when the bond-bridge activated—I saw deeper than I ever have before. Saw past the death moment to what comes after, saw alternate paths, saw...” I pause, struggling with how to explain. “I saw transformation. Something beyond just surviving. But the path to that future requires going through things that terrify me.”
“Through the moment where I’m wounded.”
“Through many moments where we’re both at risk.” I take a breath. “Crane wants me specifically. Not just any healer—me. He’s been watching, researching, planning. He knows about my work with Elena, knows about my abilities. He needs someone who can stabilize the chimera pathways he’s forcing open.”
Magnus’s expression goes cold. “He’s experimenting on himself.”
“Yes. The stolen forms are destroying him from within. He’s desperate, degrading, probably insane with pain and desperation.” I meet his eyes. “When we go deeper, he’s going to try to separate us. Create situations where I have to choose between helping his victims and staying protected beside you.”
“Then we don’t separate. Simple as that.”
“It won’t be simple. He’ll use the prisoners as bait. Create medical emergencies that require immediate intervention. Force me to choose between my healer’s oath and my safety.”
“What does your gift show you doing?” Magnus asks. “In the futures where we survive, what choice do you make?”
The question surprises me—most people want to know what to avoid, not what path to follow. But Magnus is asking me to trust my visions as guidance, not just as warnings.
“I go to the prisoners,” I admit. “Even knowing it’s a trap. But you’re with me, covering my back, watching for threats I’m too focused on healing to see. I heal, and you protect.”
“Then that’s what we do.” He says it like it’s already decided, no room for argument.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He touches my face again, brief but grounding. “You see the path forward. I trust your gift.”
The simple acceptance, the absolute trust in his words, these are more than I dared hope for. Most people who learn about my visions either fear them or want to control them. Magnus just... accepts. Trusts me to interpret what I see, to make choices based on that knowledge.
“We need supplies first,” I say, looking around the storage room properly for the first time. “Medical equipment, anything we can use. The files mentioned where the prisoners are kept on sublevel four, the containment wings.”
We search the room systematically, finding treasures among the abandoned equipment: medical kits with sterile supplies, emergency rations, even a few weapons—nothing advanced, but better than nothing. Magnus discovers a maintenance map of the facility, and we spend precious minutes memorizing the layout.
“Two routes to sublevel four,” Magnus says, tracing paths with one finger. “Direct route through the main laboratory is the fastest but also the most exposed. Or service corridors around the perimeter. These are slower, more confined, but less likely to encounter patrols.”
“Crane will expect us to avoid the lab,” I say slowly, my precognitive sense tingling. “He’ll have the service corridors monitored, trapped. The direct route is dangerous but it’s where he won’t expect us.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m...” I close my eyes, letting the visions flow. Flashes of corridors, guard positions, Crane watching monitors. “Yes. The service routes have pressure sensors, motion triggers. He’s paranoid about infiltration. But the main lab—he thinks we won’t dare go through it because that’s where he is.”
“Then we surprise him.” Magnus’s smile is predatory. “Storm Eagles have a saying, don’t they? About the best path through a storm?”
“Straight through the heart of it,” I finish. “Because trying to avoid it just keeps you in danger longer.”
We finish our preparations in focused silence, both of us aware that what comes next will define everything. The relative safety of this storage room is an illusion we can’t maintain forever.
As I check my medical supplies one final time, Magnus catches my hand.
“Before we go deeper,” he says quietly. “I need you to understand something. Whatever happens down there, whatever Crane tries to do—I’m not letting him have you. I’ll burn this entire facility to frozen ash before I let him hurt you.”
“Magnus—”
“No.” His grip tightens slightly. “You need to know. I’m Mountain Cat. We don’t do half-measures, don’t do acceptable losses. You’re mine to protect now, and I protect what’s mine with everything I am.”
