My body would not take much more of this. It was only for Emma that I kept resisting.
I fell onto my bed, and didn’t stir thereafter. I was keenly aware of Emma’s presence, but only as I was drifting in and out of my own mind.
The demon wouldn’t give up. Nor would Emma. I knew the leshane was powerful, but so was my mate. My greatest fear was before this was over, Emma would be stubborn enough to kill herself before she allowed this demon to take me wholly. She was headstrong. She would not give in.
Perhaps that’s what the leshane was counting on. He wanted to absorb her power. He couldn’t take it unless he hunted her down.
And I kept giving him opportunities to do so. Yet the time was drawing near. My grave loomed, waiting for me as patiently as my bed. If the leshane wanted Emma’s magic, all he needed to do was bide his time.
These bitter stories had bitter ends. As well as violent ones.
Chapter Twelve
Emma
“Your magic is beautiful, Emma. Sustain it. Nourish it.”
Faylin’s face hovered beside mine as I knelt by the hearthfire. My grandmother was teaching me Unseelie hearth magic, a hidden art that had been practiced by my ancestors for centuries. It was all about making the home a magical and protective space for casting. Apparently, the more sacred your home, the more powerful your magic would be. I was learning as much as I could to take back to my dorm, so I could continue practicing with the grimoire in secret there.
I stirred the cauldron counter-clockwise. The mixture within bubbled and turned a shimmering black, due to the faeseed I’d added. I focused my eyes on the brew, channeling my magic into the potion as I said, “In the name of the goddess Milonna, no evil shall enter here. No harm nor negative energy will come to me.”
The mixture turned to silver. I felt a bit of my energy drain as it siphoned into the spell, but I didn’t feel tired whatsoever. I thought of the intention of protection, as that was the main goal for this exercise.
“Think of the person you love the most,” my grandmother said. “What would you do to protect them? What would you do to save them? Put those feelings into the potion. Call them in to aid in your work.”
Ethan immediately popped into my mind. I focused on how defensive I was of him, how much I wanted to save him, and put that into the spell. The mixture turned so black, it was nearly like looking into the night.
“Very good,” Faylin praised. “We’ll make an Unseelie out of you yet.”
“I’ve got it, Babcia.” She insisted I call herBabcianow— Malovian for grandma.
Vocheck wanted me to call him Bapa. I stuck with it, because it didn’t feel as formal as their real names, and I liked the idea of having a close family. Arthur watched nearby, eyes huge behind his glasses as he observed me pull off the intense spell.
The spell was to provide protection for my dorm room. I was damn sick and tired of people breaking in my room and trying to kill me. With this mixture of salt, cloves, vinegar, faeseed, and Unseelie magic, mixed together and applied to my door frame, no one would be able to enter my dorm if they had ill intentions, so long as I remembered to reapply it every new moon. I finished stirring the pot, and sat back to let it sit for a moment.
The fattest, oldest dog I’d ever seen ambled into the living room. He was huge, with white fur and pointed ears. I think he rolled rather than walked. His big paws smacked on the floor, and his tail wagged as he sniffed my sweater.
“Who’s this big guy? I didn’t see him the last time I came over.” I held out a hand, and the dog licked my fingers. He had big black eyes that immediately warmed my heart.
“He was sleeping in the bedroom, lazy thing.” Bapa reached over and gave the dog a pat on the head.
“Do you have a cat?” I asked.
“Faeries don’t like cats. We enjoy dogs. Especially white ones,” Babcia said. She reached into her apron and tossed Puck a treat.
Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen a single cat at Arcanea University… or in Dolinska, for that matter. Were they unheard of here in Malovia?
“Cats are the pets of filthy witches.” Bapa wrinkled his nose. “Felines don’t much appreciate our kind. Cats aren’t loyal. Not like old Puck, here.”
Puck. Ethan would’ve liked that name.
I drew my attention back to the spell. It’d cooled in mere minutes. I used the ladle to pour the mixture into a vial, capping it with a cork. I slipped the mixture into my bag, to put on my door for later.
“Don’t get caught with that on school grounds,” Arthur warned. “Not even Lady Magdalina will be able to defend you.”
“I’m aware.” I had plenty of experience hiding Unseelie objects. I’d renewed the apple branch spell to protect me from curses that I learned last semester, and always carried one with me.
“Wands are the worst,” Babcia added. “Stay away from such wretched things.”
