Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

The atrium was small, yet the sunlight streaming in from the frosted glass of the ceiling lightened the atmosphere. A flowering leaf relief coiled around each of the six pillars that supported the glass dome—jessamine. Much like the rest of the castle, the atrium was furnished with only the bare essentials: a damask settee (which wasn't as comfortable as it looked) and the marble pedestal that bore the cloch na wight.

It meant wight's stone in Gaelic, and trapped inside the crystalline sphere like gray smoke was a wight from the Moors of Tarsaghaun. A pure spirit. They had many gifts and talents, and this one's was gauging a creature's magic. My magic, specifically, and whether or not I had full access to it.

I already knew the answer to that—I could see how much of the interlocking-leaf net remained of Grandmother's curse—but Ossian wanted an unbiased assessment.

While touching the cloch didn't hurt in any way, I still inhaled a deep breath before placing my hands gently on the sphere. The stone was warm to the touch, and the wight inside swirled at the contact. It was the gray of woodsmoke, but it would clear to the purest white if my magic core was free.

Unsurprisingly, the wight instantly turned cardinal red, the current of its movement frenzied as it sensed the curse trapping my magic as much as this crystal imprisoned it.

"Well, cardinal red is not apple red, though not by much," Ossian said. "You've been making progress, but it's not fast enough."

"Maybe if I could go outside, beyond the castle walls, it would speed up the process?" I ventured. "Grounding is an essential part of being a green witch, and I've had nothing beneath my feet than cold dead stone."

The fae king shook his head with a regretful sigh. "You know I can't let you leave. Wystan's out there, targeting supes and Fair Folk alike, draining them of their magic. What happens if he got ahold of you?"

"He'd have to break the curse on me to access my magic. I guess then I'd thank him before blasting him unconscious and bringing him back to face your justice."

Ossian's mouth twitched as he suppressed a smile. He brushed the backs of his knuckles over my cheek, and my body hummed with the tingling of that golden haze. Gone was the trepidation of earlier that morning.

"As tempting as that sounds," he said, "there are worse things out there than Wystan. Mallaithe, sluagh, fiáin pixies… No, you'll stay inside and train. With me."

A shudder rippled through me, one I didn't hide fast enough. The last time I had trained with him had been excruciating. It was also what had caused him to storm out of the castle and disappear for the rest of the day and night, leaving Alec to haunt my steps.

"We don't have a choice, love," he said soothingly, that golden haze gnawing away at my inhibitions. "Trust me."

I did. But not with this. Using the channel created by our fated mate bond, twice Ossian had poured his magic into me. Maybe it was because he was fae and I was a witch, or maybe our bond wasn't supposed to be used like that, but his magic had burned me. Twice it had scorched through my nerves, my whole body revolting against the foreign power.

He'd told me to relax, that it wouldn't hurt so much if I just allowed it to happen, but I never could. Then, like the tentacle-like roots of a fae hunting tree, his copper magic had spread over the net covering the oak tree of my magic, bombarding it again and again with piercing strikes. It was so eerily reminiscent of the shadowy tentacle-esophagi that the demonic half-heart on the grimoire had used to feed off my family that it took all of my willpower not to scream and shove him away.

Despite being a fae king, his power was not infinite, and Ossian would eventually grow weary and release me. Annoyed the first time, irate the second. While he'd ridden out of the castle, mercilessly digging his spurs into the flanks of his horse, I'd huddled in a scalding hot bath and bawled. The pain of the water dulled the pain in my core, or at least took my mind off it, and being secluded at the end of the east wing, there was no one to hear my sobs. No one to comfort me, either.

Then, I'd pleaded with the ember.

After that initial release, I'd been able to harness a portion of my power and unlink one cursed leaf at a time until I was drained. But the power of the ember was now spent. I needed something like it, some outside source that would convince Ossian to keep his magic to himself.

"Please!" I blurted as he reached for me. He paused. "Please, let me have today to recover. The lack of sleep, the fight with the bear… I don't have the strength to withstand your magic."

The fae king frowned. "Meadow, we cannot waste even one day. And—"

"I know that. I know ." I wracked my brain for a solution. "Let me go outside to the courtyard!" I exclaimed. Outside source indeed. "The little one with the rambler roses growing through the cracks. There's no soil, but maybe I can tap into the green life energy of the roses. It'd be better than staying in my room sleeping."

He looked ready to refuse, so I pressed, "You could go hunting with Alec." It was his favorite hobby, not to mention his duty, after all. The fae king was equal to the entirety of the Brotherhood when it came to protecting the citizens of Redbud from the monsters that plagued it.

"And leave you alone? Meadow—"

"I'm never alone here. And you leave to hunt all the time. Besides, if it works, and you're successful apprehending Wystan, you could take me beyond the walls of the castle. To the true earth. Imagine how much quicker I'll unravel my grandmother's curse then."

Maybe it was the logic, maybe it was the hopeful shine in my ivy-green eyes, maybe it was the allure to participate in his favorite hobby, but whatever the reason was, it was enough to convince him.

"It's cold out there," he told me, pinching my chin and tilting my head back for another one of his bruising kisses. "Wear that white fox-fur coat I gave you."