His expression changed, almost like he was trying to decide whether telling me the truth would help or hurt more.
“The stone on its own doesn’t do enough,” he said. “It needs a living line to answer to.”
I frowned. “A living line?”
He nodded once.
“Blood.” His eyes stayed on me. “This stone has been in your grandmother’s line for a long time.”
The word sat there between us.
No one reached for it.
No one pretended not to understand.
My hand tightened around the handle of the teacup Stella had left for me.
Gideon held my gaze.
“Why?”
“Her family came across it centuries ago. If the legends are true, that shadow stone is useless in most other people’s hands.”
For a second, the whole room seemed to tilt, not literally, just enough that I had to set the cup back down before I spilled it.
Keegan’s jaw hardened.
Bella swore under her breath.
Ardetia didn’t move, but the fingers folded on the table in front of her tightened one over the other.
I shook my head once. “No.”
Gideon didn’t look away.
“The shadow stone can be dormant for years,” he said. “Sometimes longer. It can be hidden. Guarded. Passed down. Forgotten on purpose. But when the time comes to wake it fully, to give it back what it needs to sustain that kind of power…” He paused. “It responds best to kin.”
The mark on my shoulder pulsed so hard I felt it in my teeth.
I didn’t like that at all.
I pushed the compress back into place and forced my voice to stay steady. “That still isn’t enough of an answer.”
He said nothing.
I leaned forward.
“What does that actually mean?”
This time, when he hesitated, it wasn’t subtle.
He looked at the table instead of at me, and for a man who had walked into Stella’s tea shop carrying secrets like they were spare change in his pocket, that tiny avoidance meant more than a speech would have.
“Gideon,” Nova said quietly.
His eyes remained hardened. “I know.”
He did know.
