“Are you certain? Once we bind you into the network as deliberate anchor, separating might be difficult.”
“How difficult?”
He chose honesty over comfort. “I don’t know. Charlotte’s notes suggest the bond is permanent, but she also built escape clauses into most of her workings. We won’t know for certain until we try.”
Delphine absorbed this without visible fear. “If the alternative is watching your network collapse and letting mirror contamination spread unchecked through the city, I’m willing to risk permanent magical commitment.”
“That’s not a small decision.”
“No. But it’s mine to make.” She touched his arm briefly, fingers warm through fabric. “And I’m making it. Let’s anchor this thing properly before something worse happens.”
They worked through the night. Visited sites across the Quarter, testing whether her presence stabilized the inverted nodes. They discovered that when she stood within certainproximity, the violet light faded back to blue. The corruption reversed, at least temporarily.
By three in the morning, they’d confirmed the pattern. Delphine could anchor the network. Could hold stability where Bastien’s wards alone had failed.
They returned to his apartment as dawn approached, both exhausted but satisfied with progress. She collapsed on his couch without ceremony, kicked off her shoes, and pulled the throw blanket over her shoulders.
“Five minutes,” she mumbled. “Then I’ll go home.”
“Stay.” The word emerged before he could reconsider. “It’s almost sunrise anyway. Rest here.”
She was already asleep.
Bastien watched her breathe, face relaxed in unconsciousness, trust implicit in the way she’d let herself become vulnerable in his space. She’d chosen this. Affection, yes. But also awareness of responsibility that went beyond magical partnership.
She trusted him. With her safety, with her choices, with her participation in work that could cost her memories or worse. They really had no idea.
He couldn’t afford to fail her.
He moved to the table and continued mapping the network’s geometry, planning the ritual that would bind her as permanent anchor. Working through exhaustion because stopping meant confronting the truth—he was falling in love with her again, and this time there was no excuse of soul memory or divine tether.
Just two people choosing partnership despite every reason to maintain distance.
Gideon was wrong. It wasn’t manipulation. It was love across lifetimes.
Outside, the Quarter woke. Street cleaners started their routes. Delivery trucks rumbled through narrow streets.Morning arrived with relentless normalcy, indifferent to the fact that two people had spent the night preventing reality from fracturing.
Bastien glanced at Delphine sleeping on his couch, blanket pulled to her chin, hair falling across her face.
Worth protecting. Worth the risk of permanent bond. Worth whatever it cost to keep her safe while respecting her agency to make her own choices.
He turned back to his work and kept planning.
Chapter
Twenty
Bastien watched the torrential rain from his apartment window. Delphine had fallen asleep on his couch two hours ago, research notes scattered across the coffee table. She’d fought exhaustion until her eyes wouldn’t stay open, finally admitting defeat somewhere around eleven. He adjusted the blanket over her shoulders and left her a note saying he’d gone to check on Maman’s shop before the storm hit.
Another lie. They were getting easier. The war within him carried on. Tell her enough so she could make decisions for herself. Withhold information that could harm or kill her. Back and forth like a pendulum.
He packed methodically. Waterproof bag for the mirror shard and his tools. Flashlight. Chalk. The silver knife he used for drawing blood wards. Change of clothes in the car—soaked clothing after hours in the tunnels would raise questions he couldn’t answer.
Delphine had wanted to come with him when he’d mentioned checking the tunnels. He’d told her they weren’t safe yet, that he needed to verify structural integrity first. She’d accepted it with the careful patience she had for him often—thekind that said she knew he was lying but would give him space to admit it when ready.
Except he wouldn’t be ready. Not for this.
Heavy rain created Mirror Flood conditions. Surface water was turning every puddle into a potential network node. Tunnel flooding would amplify that effect. Dangerous, but it gave him a window. Gideon’s reflections thrived in carefully controlled spaces. Chaos might blind them.
