“What do you think you’re going to find? Luca told me you’re headed up to Marmora Castle today.” Cass leans over to grab me my coffee, and I take a grateful sip when he hands it to me.
“I don’t know, but I’ve learned to listen to my affinity. I couldn’t ignore this if I tried. The dream felt so real, like I was actually there. There is something hidden on that cliff.” But what it is, I truly have no idea.
Luca pops his head into my nest, a roguish grin on his face. “Are we going exploring or aren’t we, sleepyheads?”
Ian mutters under his breath, but I kiss him until his frown disappears and he’s fully awake. Amid more coffee-flavored kisses, we dress and meet Luca downstairs a few minutes later, where Marcus is already waiting for us, keys in hand.
He glances between me and Ian, and I wonder what he sees when he looks at us, if that fleeting darkening of his eyes is longing or jealousy. I reach out with my affinity, but he stonewalls me as he always does. I get nothing from him. No insight into the way his brow quirks into a tense vee for a split second, no answers to the questions on my lips.
Ian grabs a notebook, then helps me into my yellow woolen pea coat. Even in early April, a bitter chill sweeps across Deer Island on brisk, biting winds. We pile into the SUV, with Luca in front to guide Marcus to the old castle. Ian pulls me across the back seat and into his arms, and I cherish his warmth, knowing it’ll be even colder up on the cliffs.
We pulloff a dirt road at the base of a sloping hill leading up to a cliff along the bay. Waves crash, the surf churning at the base of the cliff. We exit the SUV and stretch our legs while we take in the overgrown trail leading up the hill. Stone cobbles line the path, mud and sprigs of winter-yellowed grass filling in the gaps between the stones.
Luca takes my hand and draws me forward. Ian’s admonishment to be careful is lost on the wind as the itch to explore overtakes me, and I begin the long scramble up the grassy hill. This is where Luca and I shine, uncovering the secrets and beauty of this wild island we call home.
The castle finally comes into view when we reach the hill’s summit, and it steals my breath. My dream did nothing to capture the menacing storm clouds winding around its spires, the way lightning seems to be captured between clouds like it’s frozen in time. The dark clouds are heavy with rain, and errant rays of sunlight catch in the thick mist, throwing prismatic rainbows around the castle’s tall towers. The castle itself is resplendent, seemingly untouched by the passage of the centuries since its construction. Not a stone is out of place or worn by wind and sea spray.
Edging closer, I can feel the magic surrounding the castle; the air is heavy with it, and it raises the fine hairs at the nape of my neck. I shiver as I approach the edge of the magic. It shimmers slightly, like wards, but there’s a chaos to it I’ve only felt in one other place before: the conservatory at Rose Manor where my magic exploded out of me when my father came to take me away, to lock my magic. It was the magic of trauma, and I wonder if the magic surrounding the castle is the same. I reach out and skim my hand over the wall of magic, sharp sparks stinging my palm. I draw my hand awaywith a hiss of pain, chagrined when Luca pulls me back from the tempestuous magic.
“Careful, princess. I don’t like this at all.”
“Nor I,” Ian agrees, joining us at the top of the hill.
I stand my ground, staring down my mates and Marcus. “I saw the castle in my dreams for a reason. I’m sure of it.”
Pain rips through my skull an instant later, forcing me to my knees. The dewy grass soaks into the denim of my jeans, and I shiver. A vision whips through me, dragging me under like the tumultuous sea surging below us.
“Juniper!” Ian shouts, rushing to me and kneeling at my side, all but holding me up as my vision threatens to overtake me. “Resist the vision, my darling. You’re still weak from last night.”
But it’s already far too late.
A sigil slams into my mind, making me wince. It’s a third-order inverse sigil, one I recognize from Ian’s thorough tutelage. I grab my scribe from the pocket of my coat and etch it into the dirt, knowing, somehow, that there will be more sigils to follow.
They strike me like brands, searing into my mind. I scratch the following seven sigils into the dirt as fast as my fingers will allow.
Storm clouds clash overhead, thunder rolling over the castle courtyard as lightning sizzles across the sky, hot and electric.
My head throbs, and I have to squint my eyes shut against the bright flashes of lightning. I sag when the vision releases me, collapsing into Ian’s waiting arms. He pulls me close, and his cedar-and-bergamot scent guides me back to the present, out of the foggy haze of the vision. I smile up at him, just the smallest quirk of my lips, before I swoon.
“We have to get her to Mai,” Ian barks, effortlessly standing with me tucked in his arms. His heart beats out afrantic rhythm beneath my ear as I float at the edge of consciousness. He tightens his arms around me, and I let myself drift away, catching only the smallest snatches of conversation. My mates’ worry. Marcus’ rumbled question.
I come to in the SUV, tucked into Luca’s arms as Ian and Marcus fret over me. I blink up into Marcus’ green-gray river-rock eyes. They’re narrow with tense worry, and my first thought as I wake from my swoon is that, in some way, Marcus Haley loves me.
If only he hadn’t lied to me.
“We’re taking you back to campus,” Ian tells me, no room for argument in his tone. “I want Mai to look at you.”
I frown up at him, ready to argue. “I’ll be fine with some rest. You know that. We have to figure out what the spell means, Ian.” If it evenisa spell. It isn’t simple or straightforward; it’s composed of complex sigils, some of which I haven’t learned in classes or in my extracurricular studies with Ian yet. “Please tell me someone got a picture.”
Ian digs out his phone and his notebook, passing me each, grumbling about stubborn omegas.
I trace my fingertips over the sigils in his notebook with a frown. “I don’t recognize half of these.”
“I suspect they’re very, very old.” Ian points to a few of the sigils swimming before my eyes.
Saints, maybe Ishouldsee Mai. I shake my head to clear it. “We need to investigate. I need to go back up to the castle.”
“Out of the question,” Luca growls from behind me, his wine-and-cherries scent spiking. “You’re as weak as a kitten right now.”
