“And Pink found a DVD player, so we are all set!”
He grins at me and then gets to work battling cables and hooking up the DVD player to the TV. Watching him work is filling my chest with a warm glow.
He presses a button on the remote and when the TV displays the DVD screensaver, he lets out a whoop of satisfaction. Then he jumps onto the bed, hard enough to make it bounce, and very nearly hard enough to spill my tea.
We curl up together on the bed, not quite touching but close enough to share warmth. We watch in silence, the kind that doesn’t need filling. Flyn nibbles on biscuits. I sip tea that seems like the best tea I’ve ever had.
But even through the comfort, I feel it.
A shift.
A tug.
Like something inside me is stretching awake.
The air chills, the faintest ripple of pressure brushing against the wards. The runes on the wall pulse once, brighter, sharper… and then settle again.
Flyn sits up straighter. “What was that?”
“Something testing the wards,” I murmur. “It didn’t get in.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m still me.” I turn my head toward him, and I see it in his face, that flash of fear he tries to hide behind concern. “I promise.”
He nods, but I know the tension hasn’t left him. It hasn’t left me either.
I press a hand to the center of my chest. I swear the magic in me is growing. My dormant fey blood is stirring, and I’m not sure if this dungeon can make my fey side stay asleep. And I don’t know what will be left when it wakes up.
I swallow. I think I can fight the fey, with the help of this dungeon. But I’m not so sure if I can fight the feyandstay the same. The fey are malicious. They might call to my blood, awaken my ancestry, simply because they can, and because I’m not bending to their will. Spite and cruelty run just as thick as blood in their veins. I can feel it under my own skin. I’ve always been able to.
“What if I’m not the same after this?” I say softly.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches me, eyes serious.
“Then I’ll learn the new you,” he says eventually. “I’m not here for the version you think I want. I’m here foryou.All of it.”
I swallow. My throat is too tight for words.
Outside, the wind shifts. Inside, the lights flicker. The magic holding this place together hums a little louder, a little stronger. I can feel the fey pressing against the veil. They want me. They want access. But they don’t have me. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“I don’t want to be a doorway,” I whisper.
“Then don’t be.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It never is. But you get to choose. That’s what’s been stolen from you, isn’t it? Choice?”
My eyes sting, but I don’t look away.
“Well,” Flyn says, leaning back against the headboard beside me. “Take it back.”
The runes on the wall flicker softly. Not wild or ominous this time, just pulsing like a heartbeat. My heartbeat.
Take it back. Oh goddess, how I want to. Take back my power. My agency. My sense of self. Take back everything Ritchie stole from me.
“I’m trying,” I say again. “I’m scared.”
