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“Thank you, Honored,” Callum murmured.

She nodded, but there wasn’t any joy or pride in her eyes. “As part of the guide of the prophecies that followed this one, detailing when it was to be spoken and spread more widely, I am to tell you that you are welcome to study any of the prophecies we hold here to aide whatever journey you find necessary in light of its revelations. The other disciples and scribes will be made aware once we are finished.”

Callum’s surprise colored his voice. “Very well.”

“We’re just… allowed to take the only record you have of it?” Now I truly was terrified of ruining the old piece of paper.

“I made a duplicate already, my lady,” Isaac said. “This one is yours to study and reference as you wish.”

Thank God.

“Is it all right if we read it now?”

The woman gave an almost-smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “Of course, my lady.”

Callum unfolded the paper and held it so that I could see the scrawled ink. It didn’t look like either of the languages I’d been slowly learning the last week.

“What language is that?”

Callum’s voice was rougher than before. “Dorónmarc. It’s the language of Varím.”

“Will you read it for me?” I had no hope of being able to decipher a language I hadn’t even been exposed to. At least the botched translation spell from that ARchmage had included this language.

He nodded and then cleared his throat. When he spoke, it was clear and ringing, a power in it I hadn’t heard before.

“Until the ancient blood releases the trammels. Then, a monstrous and terrible power rises to subdue the earth. Wings black as night and primal acrimony sweep across the land, consuming all that stands in defiance.

“The careful peace shatters and a great battle wages in the lands gifted by the gods. A city topples into the sea. A woman stands sundered. A kingdom falls.

“Only then can the gate be broken open. A sacrifice borne of profound love halts the destruction. From the ruins, the ancient magics rekindle. The perversion is cleansed and the imprisoned feel the touch of the sun.”

Callum hesitated, swallowing heavily. His hands trembled slightly as the fire burned brighter, the flames leaping to the top of the fireplace. It was entirely instinct that had me circling his wrist the way he always did with me. His gasp was jagged, but the fire calmed.

“Sorry,” he whispered. Then, louder, “Thus, in the time of Addis, during the season of abundance, the curse will be undone and a new age will dawn.”

The room was silent enough to hear a pin drop. I wasn’t sure what to say. The prophecy had clearly impacted Callum viscerally. His face was still pale, and his hands still trembled under my touch as I traced shapes on the back of his hand. I couldn’t explain why I maintained the contact, just that part of me understood he needed it and that I… I wanted to be someone who could help him. After a minute, he folded the paper and focused on the disciple.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “We will steward it to the best of our abilities.”

She pursed her lips and then picked up the pen and notebook from the floor, turning her attention to me. “Let me record your two other dreams while you are here. Start with the one that is more clear, please.”

With a deep breath, I told her of the jungle.

41

AMETHYST

Two days passed, and the prophecy wasn’t brought up at all.

I’d spent the mornings—while Callum tended to various aspects of being the general of the Marish armies and also a prince who was loved and valued by the city to help handle disputes and other concerns—in our bedroom slowly shuffling through the rest of the pantheon and then the first of the books he’d given me that were, as best I could tell, a broad history of Avicourt. Shelby and Amaria would join for a bit, too, their own books in hand, before leaving to do activities in the city. When Callum returned after lunch, he would bring me into that ballroom and we would work on controlling and understanding my magic until my brain felt as wrung out as my mind. Then he’d walk me through various ways of protecting myself. Punches, kicks, even a bit of grappling that left me desperately wishing I’d asked him to kiss me at the celebration and even more impressed with just how effective the pendant was at blocking my scent. By the time I fell into bed long before Callum joined, my entire being was a mess of aching limbs and burning arousal. Not once did he touch me beyond the sparring, not even to circle my wrist or trace my jaw.

When I’d awoken this morning at the sound of Callum leaving the room to do his morning prayers in the estate’s chapel, I was desperate enough for an orgasm I briefly missed the small vibrator tucked away in my nightstand in Phoenix. I’d nearly blurted out my desire, a desperate plea for him to touch me, kiss me, relieve me of this ache I’d never known before. Not just for an orgasm, though that was certainly part of it. It was the urge to feel his skin against mine, share his breath, know the taste of his lips and the rough scrape of his hands on more than just my wrists when adjusting my form.

I had never craved another person like this, had never wanted to be consumed by them the same way I wanted to devour them, know every inch of their body and mind and soul. It should have frightened me. Two weeks ago, I would have rather jumped into Shelshire Lake from the cliff Vincent’s estate sat perched on rather than admit to any of it. Now? Now I slid into one of the day dresses the seamster had made that I’d picked up yesterday after spending the evening walking some of the city with Shelby, Amaria, and Monique rather than the leggings and overly large sweater I’d been wearing.

Despite having as much time in Starguard as me—less, really, given she’d been holed up with Arden after they’d completed their Freian rites—Monique knew several people by name and had led us to a small restaurant that took up the first floor of a building tucked into the shadow of the Memoriam Gardens. The three of them had managed to coax more laughter from me than from before Sloane and my’s trip to Maine. The threads of friendship were so foreign, I wasn’t entirely sure that’s what was developing, but I wasn’t quite so pessimistic to snip them before they had a chance to form at all. Even if my fingers itched with the urge out of a nefariously-edged self-preservation.

I traced a bit of the embroidery that was only a shade lighter than the dusty cerulean linen that had been cut obscenely well to my chest and waist, the princess seams laying perfectly flat before flaring away from my body just past my natural waist. Sloane was the one who knew more about garments, but from the bit I’d heard her talk of modifying and designing the dresses at the dance studio, I knew the slim, flat fit of this dress meant the seamster had had to use a lot of fabric. Some of that extra, he sent to the person he’d mentioned, and I slid a few of the custom pins with fabric ribbons trailing from them into the twists I haphazardly created to keep the entire mass a bit more manageable. When I pivoted to look at myself in the large mirror in the ensuite of our bedroom, nervous anticipation fluttered through my stomach. My cheeks were flushed a pale pink a shade lighter than my lips. My eyes sparkled with anticipation. The dress hugged my body all the way to my hips before flaring gently to then fall in a mess of fabric just barely brushing the floor. The lapis lazuli pendant sat nestled in the hollow of my throat like it had the last week, though I’d adjusted the chain so it could slip over my head without needing to be unclasped first.