32. Violet

32

VIOLET

"The price of power is never small, little flower."

I jerk awake at the sound of Nathaniel's voice, the purple book falling from my lap to the floor. He stands by my window, moonlight casting his sharp features in silver. How long has he been watching me sleep?

I look around for Thorne, but he isn't with me. Did he leave, or is this a dreamscape?

"Has anyone ever told you that you need to be a little less obsessive and creepy and a little more… I don't know… nice?" I try to keep my voice steady.

"You can call for your vessels if you wish," he says, sounding amused. "But we both know this conversation needs to happen. Especially now that you've discovered what you are."

"You know about the book." It's not a question. It doesn't have to be.

"I know everything about Morgan's legacy, little flower. Why do you think I chose you? "

He moves closer, and I resist the urge to back away. Without the guys here, my power feels muted and uncertain.

"You didn't choose me," I say. "My father owed you a debt."

"And how do you think that happened, hmm?"

Inhaling deeply, I don't rise to it. Whatever it was, it is in the past. I can't change it.

He picks up the purple book and runs his fingers over its cover. "It has shown me so many others over the centuries, Violet. But you. You are it, dear girl."

Something cold settles in my stomach. "Others?"

"Did you think you were the first?" He laughs softly. "Oh, little flower. I've been searching for the perfect Catalyst since before your grandmother's grandmother was born."

"Why?"

"Because I made a promise," he says simply. "To someone who understood the true potential of the forest's power. Someone who knew that one day, the four aspects would need to be united again."

"Morgan," I breathe.

"Very good." He sets the book down carefully. "Though she wasn't Morgan then. Far before my time, but her power… that is forever."

"Another heir."

"Indeed. Not as pretty as you, but far more delightful."

"You think you can hurt me by insulting me? "

"Who insulted you? I quite like your fire. It's challenging."

"And how many people have you turned trying to fulfil that promise?"

His expression darkens. "Fewer than you might think. The potential is rare, and the forest is... particular about its choices. Most candidates didn't survive the turning."

"But I did." His words chill me, though. So, not everyone who is turned survives? I didn't know that, and I'm glad I didn't. I kind of wish I didn't now.

"You did." He sounds proud, like a teacher whose student has finally grasped a problematic concept. "More than that, you're thriving. The vampire blood enhanced your natural abilities without corrupting them, and now you've found your vessels, just as I knew you would."

"Meaning?"

"Fate, dear girl."

"Besides, they're not my vessels ," I snap. "They're their own people."

"Are they?" He moves to my desk and perches on it. "The Shadow Walker, born under a lunar eclipse. The Frost Bearer, whose family has guarded magickal knowledge for generations. The Flame Heart, last of the true Dragon bloodlines with an ancestry so complex it would make your head spin. Such perfect vessels, all gathered in one place. Do you really think that's a coincidence?"

I want to argue, but something stops me .

It is fate. I just don't want it to be twisted by Nathaniel into something it's not.

"The forest has been planning this for centuries," Nathaniel continues. "Guiding bloodlines, arranging circumstances, waiting for the perfect combination, and now that it's found you all..." He trails off, smiling.

"What happens now?"

"Now? Now, the real work begins. The power you've accessed so far is nothing compared to what's possible when the four aspects truly unite. But it's dangerous. Without proper guidance, the magick could tear you apart."

"Let me guess. You're offering to be that guidance?"

"Who better? I've spent centuries studying this power, watching previous attempts fail. I know what mistakes to avoid."

"So, if you knew all of this, why have you been trying to get me away from them?"

"It wasn't apparent these boys were the vessels, until the other day. They weren't supposed to be able to touch me. No one can except you." His gaze heats up, and I pull a face of utter disgust. But then, a thought strikes me. If they weren't supposed to be able to touch him, and while they didn't exactly hurt him, they gave a good fight, then does that mean once this Catalyst and her vessels are combined they can?

"The forest's magick is not gentle," Nathaniel says softly. "It demands balance, sacrifice. The price of being a Catalyst... "

"What price?" I demand, remembering the book's warning. "What aren't you telling me?"

He studies me for a long moment before placing the book back down. "The forest speaks to you, doesn't it? Calls to you in dreams, shows you visions? Those calls will get stronger. The magick wants to be used, to flow freely again. And if you resist..." He shakes his head. "Well, madness would be a mercy."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Think about it, Violet. The power demands everything, and few are strong enough to bear it."

I think about the increasing pull of the forest, how hard it's becoming to resist its call.

"But you," he continues, "you might be strong enough. Think about it, Violet, and when you're ready to know more..." He pulls something from his pocket and places it on my desk. "You know how to find me."

He's gone before I can respond, leaving only a small silver key behind.

I pick it up with trembling fingers. It's old, covered in the same runes as the purple book. As much as I hate to admit it, Nathaniel's words make terrible sense. The way we all came together, the natural flow of our combined powers, the increasing pull of the forest.

I look at the purple book, then at the key and then where Thorne was before I fell asleep. Where is he if this was all real?

What price would the forest demand for its power? More importantly, what price would it extract if I refuse? But seriously, the biggest question of them all is, why the forest? What power do these ancient trees and shrubs have that is so connected to Morgan that it is actively trying to seek out her true heir? How? Why?

The forest whispers at the edge of my consciousness, its call stronger than ever, trying to answer me, but I don't understand what it's saying. But I have a feeling I'm going to find out soon enough.

Whether I want to or not.

Curling up, knowing I can't go to lectures now and concentrate, I close my eyes. Sleep is impossible after Nathaniel's visit, though. His words keep echoing in my head, swirling with the forest's constant whispers. Eventually, I murmur, "Caine. Come to me."

In the blink of an eye, he is there, shirt hanging open, tempting me before I've even taken my next breath. "What is it?"

"Nathaniel paid me a visit earlier."

Thorne and Flint arrive via their various modes of travel, hearing the words that tumbled from my mouth.

Thorne goes very still. "What?"

"Where did you go?" I ask him.

"I woke up in my own bed…"

"Nathaniel," I hiss.

Then I tell them everything: Nathaniel's connection to Morgan, his centuries of searching for vessels, what he said about them being vessels, and then a further explanation of the book and its words. By the time I finish, I'm exhausted, but everyone is up to speed.

"He's lying," Thorne says, from his favoured perch by the desk. "He has to be. "

"Nathaniel said your birth was special - during a lunar eclipse?"

"The Shadow Moon, they called it. My mother used to say it was an omen." He laughs without humour. "Guess she was right."

I pick up the purple book, which has become something of a security blanket. "It all fits too well to be coincidence."

"That doesn't mean we have to play into his hands," Caine says firmly. "Whatever game Nathaniel's playing, we can figure this out ourselves."

Flint nods in agreement. "He mentioned fire powers for me, but I've never shown any sign of that. Maybe he doesn't know as much as he claims."

"Or maybe those powers are just dormant," I muse. "The book did say the Catalyst could help unlock new abilities. Besides, he said more than that. He said you were the last of the true Dragon bloodlines with an ancestry so complex it would make my head spin. What does he mean?"

"Beats the shit out of me."

"Then we need to find out. Your dad must know something."

Flint scowls but doesn't say anything. I think I've shocked him or angered him even for questioning his bloodlines.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Thorne cautions. "We need more information."

"Agreed," Caine says. "But where do we start? Back underground? "

I twirl the silver key Nathaniel left behind. "Maybe not, but Nathaniel did leave us this. It has to open something important."

Flint eyes the key warily. "Could be a trap."

"Probably is," I admit. "But it might be our best lead right now. Unless anyone has a better idea?"

The guys exchange glances, clearly conflicted. Finally, Thorne sighs. "We'll go with you, wherever that key leads. But we do this carefully, okay?"

I nod and chew my lip. "I know this is a sore subject, but the severing ritual?—"

"You can't do it. Not yet," Thorne says. "We know. I hate it, but Nathaniel has answers, and we need him to give them to us. If we sever your bond with him, then all hell will break loose now."

"Fuck's sake," Flint states and then vanishes from my room, taking a small piece of my soul with him.

"Yeah," I mutter as a morbid silence falls. "All hell."