I feel Ciarán push his way into my mind.
Ambrose…my demon’s voice rings in my mind.Are you okay? What happened?
Nothing happened—I’m just a failure.Something inside of me is broken.Why does he think I’m even worth protecting? I’m useless, nothing. The only people who cared about me are gone.
Self loathing takes over as my intrusive thoughts start to spiral.
Ambrose… snap out of it. Stop it, none of that is true.
I open my eyes and see my demon transform into a surging mass of shadows. He charges me, going down my throat and spreading through my body. This possession feels different. The last time was sexual in nature, but this time it feels as if he’s filling in my emptiness. Patching over all the hollow spaces and making me whole again.
Ambrose Stone, we’re in this together. You are not broken. You are not a failure. Youcando great, impossible things with your magic,he declares.See what I see…
A reel plays through my mind. It’s Ciarán watching me as I conjure the water and put the fire out. He momentarily watches the magic I create, but most of his focus is on me. On theexpression of accomplishment and pride on my face—on my beaming smile.
I hadn’t even realized how happy using magic made me. How capable I felt when carrying out a spell correctly. Seeing myself through his eyes gives me the confidence I lost.
I close my eyes again, but instead of relying on happy memories to fuel me, I look inward. I dig deep, finding that happiness from before and harnessing it as power. A surge of our combined magic bursts from my hands, and when I open my eyes, my house reconstructs in real time. It’s as if I’m watching everything happen in reverse. The charred remains are transfigured to their original materials, and the pieces float back in place. Within a few minutes, my home is back to the way it was before the fire.
Ciarán, you need to see this,I internally scream.
He leaves me, returning to his corporal form. His smile says a thousand words.
“You’re amazing, my little witch.” His voice gushes with pride as he brings me in for a hug.
A throat clearing breaks us apart. I turn my head and see Caulder. He’s flanked by my coven’s elders. All of them regard Ciarán with suspicion, as if he’s a dangerous weapon or a freak of nature. My demon projects a shield around us, one that no magic can penetrate. I know that with him, I can confront Caulder and expose him for the liar he is.
“We saw that demon possess you, Ambrose,” Caulder says in a deceptively concerning tone, as if he didn’t set my house on fire and attack us. “How long has this been going on?”
“Don’t you fucking dare try to play the hero, you lying bastard! You set my house on fire and attacked us.” I’m seething with anger, and it takes every iota of control I have not to strike him down where he stands.
“What are you talking about? I know things have been hard for you since your parents passed and you haven’t been yourself, so I came to check on you on my early morning walk. Your home was burning to the ground, and this demon attacked me when I tried to help you.”
The elders fucking fawn over him, giving him googly eyes and patting him on the shoulder like he’s some stand-up guy. It makes me sick.
“You’re lying,” Ciarán says, a smirk blooming across his face. “This man has abused and mistreated my summoner, and I have proof.”
“How didyousummon a shadow demon?” Mrs. Talbot, the newest of the elders, says with a hint of surprise.
“I used my family’s grimoire, just like any other witch would,” I snap.
“I’ll take that book so I can research how to properly banish this demon. He’s not safe. He’ll infect and corrupt your mind, Ambrose,” Caulder says as he reaches for the book.
I blast him with my magic before he can even touch the shield, knocking him flat on his ass. He’s unconscious, and the youngest elder checks to see if he’s okay. “Ciarán is right. He can prove that Caulder Scarborough isn’t the man you think he is.”
The other elders look at each other, as if to silently confer. Their facial expressions are a mix of disbelief, shock, and interest.
“How do we know your demon isn’t making this up? What if he possesses us?” Mr. Lambert asks, eyeing my demon as if he’ll attack him at any minute.
“The demon is bonded to me, and can only possess me because I allow him to do so. I can vouch for his integrity. He won’t harm you.”
Ciarán nods, then takes my hand. “Ambrose is right, I can only possess him. I am bound to him and will protect him withmy life. I also can’t make up memories—only show them as they were shown to me. Join hands with us, and you’ll see the truth.”
They reluctantly join hands with us. My demon immediately replays every single memory I’ve ever shown him. It’s a giant reel of Caulder abusing and brow-beating me. He shows them snippets of the tamer intimate acts and conversations we’ve shared, and the entirety of the fight we had before I summoned him.
Their gasps while everything transpires are all the confirmation I needed. They see the truth. They know who he is.
When Ciarán is done, we break our union. The elders seem shell shocked.
