Somewhere around thetwentieth time I checked my phone, I realized I’d become the person I used to mock. Every time it buzzed, I half hoped, half dreaded it would be Krystal. Even when it didn’t buzz, I checked anyway, just in case somehow I had missed the chime.
The manor was silent except for the occasional creak and the far-off groan of the boiler. Morning sunlight cut through the upper landing, catching dust motes and the edge of a glass left on the railing from last night’s casual dragon gathering. I paced the corridor with the phone hot in my palm, retracing the same stretch of floorboards until my shoes had made a visible track through the antique rug.
I could still smell her, lingering on my shirt. My dragon hated that she wasn’t here now. I hated it more.
I tried her number one more time, just in case she’d miraculously decided to answer. Four rings, then voicemail.
Somewhere in the house, a door slammed. I heard the low grumble of Drake and the sharper, more metallic laugh of Skyeechoing up from the first floor. Business as usual. But nothing about this was usual, not anymore.
I made my way down the grand staircase, past a pile of coats abandoned on the banister, and toward the formal library at the back of the house. The place had been designed to intimidate, double-height shelves, ancient wood, the Beck family crest pressed in gold over the marble fireplace. Ashton was already there, seated in a wingback like some old-world diplomat, flipping through a sheaf of veterinary reports. He didn’t look up when I entered, but I felt his attention land on me all the same.
"Any news?" he asked calmly.
I shook my head, collapsing into the chair opposite. "Nothing. She’s not answering my messages. And yes, I do understand she might be asleep."
Ashton finally met my eye. He was two centuries my senior but looked younger, at least in the mornings before the day wore him down. "You expected this?"
I bristled. "No. Maybe. I don’t know what I expected."
The library door opened and in sauntered Drake, his hair still wet from a shower, the ends dripping onto his rumpled Henley. He gave me a raised eyebrow and flopped onto the leather sofa next to Chance, who was halfway through a crossword and pretending not to care about the drama.
Aurelia swept in next, her hair braided back tight. She ignored Drake’s attempts at levity and beelined straight to me, laying a manicured hand on my arm.
"She’ll come around," she said. "Just keep letting her know you're there when she's ready. The news about her mother placing a spell on her is probably a huge shock."
I grunted. "I don’t understand her fear."
Aurelia’s eyes narrowed. "She had a lot of information dumped on her at once."
Krystal was a wolf shifter. She should have been able to sense me as her mate. Vivienne had said the spell would mute it.
Skye entered and sat between Drake and Chance on the sofa. "When a guy ghosted me, I tracked him down and egged his car. It didn’t fix things, but it made me feel better."
Aurelia rolled her eyes. "Violence is a last resort, dear."
"Is not," Skye said, grinning into her mug.
I tuned out the banter, focusing on the way the morning light bent through the stained glass of the windows. Everything felt brittle, fragile, as if one sharp word would shatter it.
"Zaden," Ashton said, his tone shifting from big brother to clan alpha, "walk us through what happened. Start to finish."
I took a breath, rolling the sequence in my mind like beads on a string. "She was fine during the party. A little on edge, but that’s normal for her, she's kind of high-strung." I hesitated. "Then I told her that she had a block, and she was my mate and that we met ten years ago, just before I went into hibernation. And then she freaked out and left."
Erin slipped in quietly, her auburn hair tucked behind her ears. She perched on the arm of Ashton’s chair, eyes flicking between me and the others. "Does she not remember meeting you?"
I shook my head. "No. I had my suspicions that she didn’t, but her reaction last night confirmed it."
Aurelia squeezed my arm, hard enough to leave an imprint. "She’s in shock. Give her time."
Skye piped up from her corner, "Yeah, give her a few days, then go over there and force a conversation. Sometimes they need to see you’re not going away."
"Or," Drake interjected, "you could serenade her window at three a.m. Worked for me once. For about a month."
Ashton shot him a glare. "Not helpful."
The room fell quiet for a second, everyone waiting for me to break the silence.
I looked at Aurelia. "You know more about magic than I do. How do we remove the spell?"
