I have known he is the Magic Hunter, but I never once considered his speciality. I automatically know without thinking. Fear left no room for curiosity. I understood Lander was powerful, but I never once tried to work out the nature of his power.
“I’m an animal mage.”
Of course he is.
An animal mage.
Pieces slot into place. Connections snap tight. Shame floods me, hot and nauseating.
I have been manipulated from the very beginning. I try to summon the fierce protectiveness I found earlier, but it will not come. All I feel is bone-deep exhaustion and a heavy, aching sadness that settles in my ribs like wet stone.
Why did I ever expect Lander to be different?
After William’s betrayal, I thought I had learned not to hope. I thought I understood people.
Yet the lesson never sticks.
Perhaps that is why William found it so easy to control me back then.
Lander, too, played me beautifully.
Through his raven’s eyes, he saw me crawl—naked and broken—from the ley line. He came to me already knowingwhere I lay. The bird watched the whole time, followed me, stayed with me. Became myfriend.
While I thought myself clever and powerful, Lander stayed one step ahead.
What did I tell him? What did I tell the raven?
Far too much.
I almost pointed at my own grave and confessed everything. I let things slip—my magic, information, fragments of myself I should never have handed over.
Lander knows I am tied to the house, and I would not be surprised if he already knows exactly what I am. The realisation hollows me out. I feel broken, used—stupid.
I wanted this life to be different, to believe I could begin again. But if everything ends the same way, perhaps life is not the problem.
Perhaps I am.
I trusted him. I liked him. Yet there is no trust here—only a job to complete, whatever the cost, even if that cost is me.
He studies me now, searching my face. And for once I am grateful for this strange, blank expression—grateful that nothing shows. I need not add humiliation to the hurt.
“You have known who I am the whole time.”
“I didn’t,” he replies, narrowing pale, unreadable eyes. “But from your reaction…” His voice goes softer, more certain. “I do now.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The police arrive,summoned from the Magic Sector. Lander grips my wrist, keeping me at his side as if I am both evidence and liability. Snack Thief perches hidden in the nearest tree. I cannot meet the bird’s black eyes. It is not his fault, yet I feel betrayed—absurd, really, because he is only a raven obeying a powerful mage.
With the last paperweight safely locked in the case, I feel my filaments burn as I snap the catches shut. The box already bears layered spells to prevent the paperweight’s magic from leaking, and I add two more wards—one to reinforce the seal, another as a failsafe.
If I had time, I would encase the whole thing in lead and seal it again, but I cannot with Lander here, watching.
When—if—I get a moment, I will come back and destroy it.
Somehow, I doubt I will have the chance.
One officer debriefs Lander in low tones. Lander explains that the raid is unsanctioned, that the intruders acted without authorisation, then adds—almost casually—that they have their reasons.
