Her focus went directly to me, and she smiled.
“Isolde, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Her gaze flicked over me, lingering for a moment on the faint white-blue sparks that danced nervously along my fingertips despite my best efforts to contain them. “And there it is, that rare spark. Gorgeous, isn’t it? Most succubi auras are smooth silk. Yours crackles like living lightning. I’ve only seen something close to it once before.”
I blinked, stunned. No one had ever called my power gorgeous, and I’d never once considered it like that. It was too unpredictable. And potentially harmful if I made a mistake.
Lirael crossed the room with graceful steps and stopped a respectful distance away from me. Kastiel straightened, his gaze tracking her. But there was no desire in his dark eyes, only an alertness that told me he viewed her as a potential threat when she was this close to me. Somehow, that made me relax more.
He knew this woman and trusted her enough to have Adan call her for help, but I had the sense that he wouldn’t hesitate to take her down with his shadows if he thought she was going to hurt me. I felt his determination to keep me safe as a low pulse through the incomplete mating bond, and I flashed him a grateful smile.
“I can feel how tightly you’re holding it back. There’s fear written all over your aura.” Lirael’s words drew my attention back to her. “It’s good Kastiel is here. I can sense the connection between you. Having him near will give you the strength you’ll need in the days ahead.”
“Don’t rush her,” Kastiel growled, flames swirling in his eyes.
“My apologies.” She dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I should have started by saying we’re not here to force anything today. I’d like to start with a simple assessment, where you justlet a small thread of your power out so I can see how it moves. Would that be acceptable?”
I glanced at Kastiel. He gave me a small nod, his dark eyes full of his faith in me.
I swallowed hard, then looked back at Lirael and whispered, “Okay. I think I can try that.”
“Good.” Lirael smiled. “Let’s keep it simple. Close your eyes if it helps. I want you to reach for a single thread of your aura, nothing more. Imagine it as a thin ribbon of light leaving your fingertips. Just let it exist in your mind for a moment.”
I swallowed and closed my eyes, hyperaware of Kastiel standing a few feet away, his solid presence the only thing keeping me from bolting. My heart pounded as I tentatively reached inward, coaxing the smallest sliver of power toward my hands.
The moment it responded, white-blue lightning crackled along my fingertips. The air hissed with static. I flinched, trying to yank it back, but Lirael’s voice cut through the panic.
“Stop. Hold it right there.”
My eyes flew open. The thread of aura still danced in erratic, jagged arcs between my fingers, spitting sparks that made the wards around the room flicker in response.
Lirael studied me with open fascination, tilting her head. “That sparking, volatile lightning isn’t normal for succubi. Most of us carry smooth auras. Allure wrapped in warm invitation meant to seduce. Yours crackles like living lightning.”
Kastiel moved closer to me. “Yes, we assumed it was because she’d never fed before.”
“No.” Lirael shook her head. “This is a rare hybrid gift. Storm blood from your father’s line mixed with the succubus powers you inherited from your mother. It’s incredibly powerful, Isolde.”
I gasped, my eyes widening. I’d grown up hearing stories about the powerful sea monster my father traced his family back to. Leviathan was known for his destructive power, bringing chaos wherever he went. But I’d never considered that the sparks could be from that half of my genetics.
“But you were partially right about the impact of suppressing it the way you have for years,” she continued. “Your succubus aura can turn unstable if you starve it for too long. That’s why the rifts keep forming. Your power is trying to break free any way it can, and it’s unusually strong because of your dual demon lineage.”
I stared at the crackling threads, stunned into silence. All this time, I had believed I was broken—with a power that needed to be caged forever—and it turned out the very thing I feared most was a rare strength passed down from my father.
“He never told me.” My knees felt weak. “All these years, I thought something was horribly wrong with me. And it came from him?”
Lirael’s expression softened with understanding. “Many older demons still treat hybrid gifts like secrets or liabilities. But this isn’t a flaw, Isolde. That crackling lightning is raw, untapped power. When you start feeding it properly, I expect your power will settle into something extraordinary.”
I couldn’t stop staring at the sparks still dancing across my skin. They looked different after her explanation. Less like a curse and more like something that had been screaming for air for years.
Kastiel moved close enough for his shoulder to brush mine, his warmth grounding me without a word. He simply stayed there, a silent anchor while my world tilted on its axis.
Lirael watched us both for a moment, then continued gently, “Suppression is what turns this gift volatile. Acceptance andfeeding will stabilize it. The rifts will stop. And that beautiful storm inside you will finally have room to breathe.”
Tears burned behind my eyes, from a mixture of anger at my father and the fragile hope that maybe I wasn’t doomed to be a danger to Kastiel.
Lirael must have seen the shift in my expression because her voice gentled further. “The fastest and safest way to stabilize an aura like yours is controlled feeding. Done right, with trust and consent, it becomes healing. For both of you since Kastiel is your fated mate.”
Just the thought of feeding from him had me yanking my aura back so hard that a sharp crackle of white-blue lightning snapped between my palms. The spark leaped toward the floor before Lirael lifted one elegant hand and dissipated it with a soft pulse of her own smooth aura.
“Easy,” she murmured. “That reaction right there is exactly what suppression does.”
