Her gaze lingered on me, searching for the reliability I’d always offered. Then it moved to Elio, testing for masks that weren’t there anymore. And finally it landed on Cyrus, braced for possession that had transformed into partnership.
She was waiting for someone to flinch, to decide this was too complicated, too much.
None of us did.
I’m done shrinking, she said quietly. Done apologizing for needing you.
Good, I said.
About time, Elio added with a slight smile.
Cyrus pulled her into a hug—slow at first, like he was testing whether she’d wince from sore muscles. When she didn’t, he held tighter.
She sank into it. I watched the tension finally release from her shoulders, tracking it the way I’d track portal stability returning to normal parameters.
I moved closer, my arm coming around her waist from one side. Elio mirrored the motion from her other side. The four of us pressed together—Cyrus anchoring from the front, Elio and I stabilizing from the sides, Marigold centered in the middle where she belonged.
The familiars manifested closer. Scout hopped onto the bed near us, Wisp settled against my leg, Echo perched on the headboard, and Ember radiated controlled heat from Cyrus’s shoulder.
The positions felt right, sustainable, like a structure that could bear weight without collapsing.
We go together, I said into the quiet. Into whatever comes after. Together.
We come back together, Elio added. No heroics. No sacrificing yourself to save us.
No dying, Cyrus finished. That’s not on the agenda.
Marigold nodded against my shoulder. Together.
We stayed like that for a long time—silent and present. I tracked the passage of time by the changing light through the window, the way campus sounds gradually increased as students began their morning routines.
Eventually, her stomach growled loudly enough that all of us heard it. The moment released its grip.
Breakfast, Elio announced, standing. I’ll make something.
I’ll help, I said, already calculating what we had in the suite versus what needed to be portaled in from the dining hall. Protein would help her recover from yesterday’s magical strain. Complex carbohydrates for sustained energy. Something warm.
Cyrus stayed beside her, his hand finding hers. You good?
Yeah. She squeezed his fingers. Actually good. Not just functional.
His smile was rare but genuine. Good.
LATER—AFTER BREAKFAST, AFTER MARIGOLD had finally checked in with Dr. Phillips about Raven’s continued progress, and after the immediate crisis management had been handled—I found her standing at her suite window.
Campus spread out below. Students moved between buildings in predictable patterns. Defensive wards hummed at frequencies I could feel through my portal sense—invisible layers of protection. The wellspring pulsed beneath everything, constant and aware.
Normal operations continued despite the countdown looming over all of us.
She’d spent months building toward this, learning to lead, building coalition, and developing her necromancy into something that could counter the master’s corruption.
But she’d also built something else, something more fragile and more essential.
She’d let herself have us—fully and without reservation or apology. Now the fear sharpened because she knew exactly what the master could take.
Keane? she said from the window without turning.
I crossed to her, my hand finding her back with grounding contact. Thinking about Raven?
