Thinking about how much I have to lose now. She leaned into my touch. All three of you. Raven. Lucas. Aurora. Everyone.
I understood. Love as vulnerability. Connection as risk. The more you had, the more the master could threaten.
The more potential points of failure in a system.
He can’t take what we don’t give him, I said quietly. Fear. Isolation. The belief that we’re safer alone.
She turned, her brown eyes searching mine. Is that what you really think? Or what you’re telling me because you know I need to hear it?
Both, I said honestly. I’m scared too. Of what’s coming. Of what might happen at solstice. Of whether we’re strong enough.
Her hand found mine and squeezed.
But I’d rather face it together and be terrified, I continued, than face it alone and be certain. Because alone, we’ve already lost. Together, we have a chance.
She nodded slowly, processing and accepting.
Outside, campus continued its rhythm. Students moved between buildings. Defensive wards hummed. The wellspring pulsed beneath everything. This was the world we were about to fight for.
Normal operations while crisis approached—the same pattern I’d seen throughout history. People continuing their lives because the alternative was surrendering before the battle even started.
Twenty days, she said.
Twenty days, I agreed. And we’ll use every one of them.
I couldn’t promise we’d survive. Couldn’t guarantee the plan would work. Couldn’t offer false certainty when the variables were too complex to calculate with complete accuracy.
But I could promise we’d face it together—not because we had to but because we chose to.
Every morning, every decision, every moment between now and solstice was a choice, not an obligation—and we’d need that distinction to survive what was coming.
21
Marigold
NIGHT SETTLED OVER WICKEM WITH the eerie calm that came before something catastrophic.
I stood at my suite window, watching campus lights flicker in the darkness. Scout stirred behind me on the nightstand, his bones clacking a soft warning I could almost feel in my ribs. Below, everything seemed normal on the surface while a countdown ticked beneath.
Twelve days until solstice.
My body felt wired despite exhaustion. I was hypervigilant, every sound making me turn. Every shadow caught my attention, like I was already bracing for the fight, already trying to anticipate what could go wrong.
Keane sat on the couch with his tablet, running ward calculations out of habit. Wisp had already checked the windows twice, and now she circled once around Keane, her tail splitting and rejoining in a flicker of moonlight before settling beside him.
Elio adjusted the blanket someone had left draped over the chair, a small domestic ritual I’d watched him do a dozen times without thinking about it.
Cyrus stood between me and the window without seeming to realize it. His protective positioning had become so automatic he didn’t question it anymore. Ember flickered steadily on his shoulder.
You’re doing it again, Cyrus said quietly.
I turned. Doing what?
Standing guard. His amber eyes held understanding, not criticism. Trying to see threats before they arrive.
Someone should.
Wisp already did. Twice. Keane didn’t look up from his tablet. Wards are solid. Campus is secure. You can rest.
