“We should probably sleep,” Ramona said. “Big research day tomorrow.”
The words felt hollow even as she said them. She’d been saying some version of that for days now —tomorrow we’ll figure it out, tomorrow we’ll try harder— while carefully avoiding the stacks of books Zara had been poring over. Avoiding the moment when she’d have to actuallytryto solve this and risk failing. Again.
Dr. Ramona Greenbriar, who couldn’t even break a simple summoning bond. Who would probably misread some fundamental principle, make some embarrassingly basic mistake that any first-year could have caught. The thought made her stomach clench.
“Probably.” But neither of them moved.
Around them, her roommates went to bed. Doors closing. Lights going off. The distant sound of Kashvi and Posey still giggling.
“Thank you,” Zara said quietly. “For tonight. I needed… I needed not to think about rituals and spellwork phrases for a while.”
“Me too.”
But looking at Zara now — this demon who’d had her entire existence upended, who’d been nothing but patient while Ramona hid behind retail shifts and avoidance — something shifted in Ramona’s chest. A small, stubborn ember of the person she used to be. The one who’d spent twelve-hour days in Thornwood’s archives, who’d defended a dissertation on medieval language root morphology, wholikedimpossible puzzles.
Zara had spent hours researching today, methodically working through texts while Ramona buried herself in rearranging a display of “Lucky Charms” as Marcus had requested. Zara, who had every right to be furious, who could have demanded Ramona fix this immediately, had instead enjoyed a night off from thinking about it.
Tomorrow, Ramona decided. Tomorrow she’d actually open those books. Actually try. Not because she thought she’d succeed — she was still terrified she wouldn’t — but because Zara deserved someone who would at leasttry.
The moment lingered between them until Zara settled into the chair.
“You know, you can sleep in the bed when you’re done researching for the night,” Ramona said. “In case you have any more… you know, nightmares or something.”
Zara turned, giving her a small nod, then her gaze went back to the book in front of her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Okay,”Zara said, spreading the books across the coffee table with the systematic precision of someone who’d been planning this for days. The easy warmth from movie night had evaporated from the night before, replaced by the familiar tension of detachment. “Let’s start with the basics.”
Ramona sat on the couch, sipping her coffee with her laptop balanced on her knees, trying to summon the enthusiasm from the night before that she didn’t currently feel. “What do you need?”
“This grimoire.” Zara held up a leather-bound book with water-stained pages. “It’s the most complete description of the severance ritual I’ve found. But it’s written in ecclesiastical Lysienne with some very archaic grammatical structures, and I’m not confident in my translation.”
Ramona took the book reluctantly. The moment her fingers touched the leather, something in her chest constricted. She knew this grimoire. She’d used it in her dissertation. Had spent weeks parsing a single chapter, unraveling the linguistic Lysienne choices the author had made.
She opened it to the marked page. The familiar script swam before her eyes.
“If you wish to break the bond,” Ramona translated automatically. Then stopped. “Actually, it’s more specific than that. Not just ‘wish.’ It’s more like ‘desire earnestly.’ The verb choice matters.”
“Why?” Zara was leaning forward, attentive.
“Because it sets the tone for the whole ritual. The author is establishing that this isn’t casual magic. You have to want it badly enough that—” Ramona stopped herself again. “Never mind. The basic translation works fine.”
“No, keep going.” Zara pulled out her notebook. “What does the verb choice tell us?”
“It tells us that…” Ramona’s finger traced the text. “It tells us that half-hearted attempts will fail. The magic responds to desire, to intention. If you’re ambivalent, the ritual won’t work.”
“So both parties have to actively want the bond broken. Just as we suspected.”
“Not just want. They have to desire it earnestly. Yearn for it.” Ramona looked up. “The word choice seems very specific about that.”
They held eye contact for a moment too long. The tether hummed between them.
“Right,” Zara said finally. “That’s… good to know.”
They kept reading. Or rather, Zara read and asked questions, and Ramona answered them in the shortest possible way before finding an excuse to check her phone.
After the fifth interruption — this time while Ramona read an article about whether Taurus was compatible with Scorpio in professional relationships — Zara closed her grimoire with deliberate patience.
