“Are you actually researching, or are you just pretending while reading about zodiac signs?” Zara narrowed her eyes,which, for a demon, was a bit more menacing than Zara had looked before.
Ramona’s face heated. “I was taking a mental break.”
“You’ve takensixmental breaks in the last hour.”
“Research is exhausting.” Ramona shrugged, clearing her throat.
“Not when you’re barely doing it.” Zara’s voice was sharp now. “You read one sentence of Lysienne and then immediately reach for a distraction. Every time.”
“That’s not?—”
“It is.” Zara stood up, frustrated. “You were fine explaining horror movie tropes for two hours last night. You lit up talking about why characters make bad decisions. But the second I ask you to engage with youractualexpertise, you shut down.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“Because that didn’t matter!” The words burst out sharper than Ramona intended, her emotions rising with heat in her cheeks and a roaring in her ears. “Because I can be wrong and no one cares. No one gets hurt. But this…” She gestured at the grimoire. “If I get this wrong, if I mistranslate something or miss a nuance, the ritual fails. Best case, we’re stuck together for another four weeks. Worst case, one of us gets seriously hurt. And it’ll be my fault. Again.” Her heart was pounding in her chest. “It’s fuckingalwaysmy fault.”
Zara stared at her. “You already think you’re going to fail?”
“IknowI’m going to fail. That’s what I do. I fail at magic.” Ramona clenched her jaw, shaking her head. “I can read about it. I can explain it. But I can’t do it. And the second something matters, the second there are actual stakes, I fuck it up.”
“That’s not true.” Zara’s tone was gentle, like an outreached hand.
“Isn’t it?” Ramona stood up, needing space. Her hands felt tingly in a panicked kind of way, and she shook them as she blinked quickly, willing herself not to cry. “My coven and my career and my marriage ended because I proved everyone right. That I’m a failure. That I’m too dangerous to trust with real magic.”
“Ramona—”
“So yeah, maybe I am avoiding this. Because at least when the ritual fails, no one wasreallyexpecting otherwise.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
Zara sat back down slowly. She let out a heavy, long sigh. “Come here.”
“I don’t?—”
“Please.”
Ramona sat. Not close, but close enough that the tether eased slightly.
“I need to tell you something,” Zara said. “And I need you to actually hear it.”
Ramona waited.
“You’re terrified of failing,” Zara began. “I understand that. But you’re so focused on not failing that you’re guaranteeing it. You’re creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“That’s not?—”
“Let me finish.” Zara’s voice was gentle but firm. “Last night, you explained horror movie logic to me for two hours. You were patient. You were thorough. You broke down complex narrative structures into understandable pieces. And you loved doing it.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It’s exactly the same thing. It’s teaching. It’s expertise. It’s taking something you understand deeply and helping someone else understand it, too.” Zara leaned forward. “The only difference is that you’ve decided horror movies are safe and medieval grimoires are dangerous.”
Ramona said nothing.
“But here’s the thing — you’re already doing the hard part. You translated that perfectly. You explained the verb choice and why it matters. That’s not failing, Ramona. That’s succeeding.”
