37. Violet

37

VIOLET

It's been a day since the forest started waking up. A day since Caine froze the forest and a day where we have found nothing that will stop the wild magick from not only trying to wipe out this realm once it unfreezes in its fury, it will burst through the veils, and many realms will feel its wrath.

In short, this is a disaster and time is running out.

"You're brooding again," Thorne says from my doorway. His shadows reach for mine instinctively because I have those now, too, echoes of his power swimming beneath my skin.

"Just thinking." I look down at my hands, watching purple light dance with traces of flame, frost, and darkness. "Something's coming. Something bigger than Nathaniel's games or the forest's awakening."

He moves into the room, closing the door behind him. "You've been saying that since yesterday. Any clearer on what it is? "

"No. But..." I close my eyes, letting the four aspects of magick flow through me. "It's like the forest is waiting for something. Like everything that's happened so far is just preparation."

"Preparation for what?"

"That's the question, isn't it?"

A knock at the door interrupts us. Caine enters without waiting for a response, frost trailing in his wake. "We have a problem."

"When don't we?" But I'm already standing, sensing his urgency through our connected magick.

"The Vampire High Council is here."

My heart skips. The Vampire High Council. Gaida's dad, ancient vampires, and what's the bet they are here for me?

"All of them?" Thorne asks, his shadows darkening.

"Enough of them." Caine's ice spreads in agitated patterns.

"Where's Flint?" I ask, already moving toward the door.

"Trying to keep his flames from burning down the east wing," Caine replies dryly. "The Council's presence is agitating everyone's magick. Even the non-vampires."

He's right. I can feel it.

"They'll try to stop whatever it is you are going to do," Thorne says quietly.

"They can try, but I can't hide. They are here for me."

We head downstairs, feeling the tension build with each step. Students press against walls as we pass, their awe and fear are growing for Caine after what they witnessed, and are still witnessing as the forest freeze holds.

The Vampire High Council waits in the great hall. Their ancient power is a suffocating presence that makes my newly acquired magick writhe under my skin. Seven figures in formal black attire, each radiating the kind of authority that comes from millennia of existence.

A man—tall, otherworldly stunning, radiating disapproval—turns to me, and I gulp. It's plain from his authority that he is Gaida's father. This is my sire's sire. My grandsire? Is that even a thing? I hadn't really thought about it until I laid eyes on him and now all I can think about it is how Gaida is like my sister that I never had and always wanted.

"Miss Violet," he says, his voice carrying countless ages of refinement, but still making me snicker. He's been taking lessons from Blackthorne. Or perhaps the other way around… "We've been watching your situation with great interest."

"Have you now?" I try to keep my voice steady, but it's hard when four different types of magick scream inside me, wanting to break free. Wanting to show these ancient beings exactly what I'm capable of.

But that's exactly what it wants me to do, what Nathaniel wants me to do, so I won't. Stubborn doesn't even cover what I'm being right now, but I won't cave.

"The forest's power must be contained," another Council member states - a woman with blood-red lips and eyes that have seen empires fall. "Your resistance to its call is admirable, but ultimately futile."

"With all due respect," Caine steps forward, and all eyes go to him, warily, I might add. I've never been more proud. "We have it under control."

"For now," the woman smiles, showing delicate fangs. "But your time freeze is temporary, young ice prince. What then?"

"Then we'll find another way," I say firmly. "One that doesn't involve unleashing wild magick across the realms."

Gaida's father raises one perfect eyebrow. "And what of your sire's plans? Do you truly believe Nathaniel will allow you to contain this power?"

A chill runs through me. "You know about that?"

"We know everything, child." His eyes fix on mine, ancient and knowing and a tiny bit menacing. Okay, a lot bit menacing. "We know why he turned you. Why he chose this specific moment in time. Why he needs Morgan's power unleashed."

"Then enlighten me," I challenge, even as my magick surges beneath my skin, wanting to show them exactly who they're dealing with. "Because I'm getting really tired of everyone knowing more about my destiny than I do."

The Council members exchange looks that speak of centuries of silent communication. Finally, Gaida's father sighs.

"The balance between realms has been maintained for millennia through careful regulation of power. Wild magick—true, unbound power—would shatter those barriers."

"Making it easier for certain entities to cross over," the red-lipped woman adds. "Entities that have been waiting a very long time for such an opportunity."

"Entities like what?" Thorne asks, his shadows coiling protectively around us.

"Like the things that made vampires necessary in the first place," Gaida's father says quietly.

Oh?

Oh shit.

"You mean..." I start but can't finish the thought.

"Yes." He nods gravely. "The Old Ones. The beings that existed before time was measured, before magick was bound, before the realms were separated. I'm not talking about the first of our kind, here. I mean the gods and goddesses that walked these lands as they were being created."

"And Nathaniel wants to let them in?" Flint's flames flare with his anger as he joins us. I hadn't even heard him approach. "Why?"

"Power," the woman says simply. "The Old Ones reward those who serve them. Your sire believes he will be granted dominion over this realm in exchange for helping them return."

"He's insane," I whisper, but even as I say it, I know it's true. It fits perfectly with what little I know about him.

"Perhaps," Gaida's father agrees. "But he is also patient, cunning, and very, very old. He has been planning this for centuries, waiting for the right moment, the right vessel."

"Me," I say flatly.

"You." He inclines his head. "The perfect combination of vampire strength and mortal flexibility. Young enough to be moulded, old enough to handle the power. But most importantly, carrying Morgan's direct bloodline. There has been no other. Only you."

I give him a curious look. "Only me? I was told there were others."

"Not like you."

His deep, dark eyes, like those of his daughter, penetrate my gaze on a soul-deep level. I lift my chin higher as a defence mechanism against crawling into a hole and never coming out.

"What does that mean?" Thorne snaps, seeing this look pass between us and not liking it one bit.

"Exactly what it sounds like," Gaida's dad says, mercifully shifting his gaze to Thorne. "She is the one."

"The one," I snort, unable to help myself. "Give me a break."

Gaida's father's eyes snap back to me, his gaze hardening. "This is no laughing matter, child. The fate of multiple realms hangs in the balance."

I bite back another sarcastic retort, forcing myself to focus. "Okay, fine. I'm ‘the one.' But that doesn't explain anything, now, does it?"

The red-lipped woman steps forward. "No vampire can contain this power. Our very nature is anathema to wild magick. It would destroy us."

"But I'm a vampire now, too," I point out.

"You are," Gaida's father nods. "But you weren't born one. Your mortal essence still lingers, allowing you to channel magicks no full vampire could touch. It's why you can wield the powers of your companions as well."

I look down at my hands, watching the interplay of ice, fire, shadow, and that indefinable something that must be my own power. "So, what am I supposed to do? Just let the forest's magick flow into me and hope for the best?"

"Absolutely not," Caine says firmly.

"We can't risk it," Flint agrees. "There has to be another way."

Thorne remains silent, his shadows writhing uneasily around him. I can feel his conflict through our connection—the desire to protect me warring with the knowledge that we might not have a choice.

The magick inside me pulses, responding to Gaida's dad's words. I can feel it trying to break free, to show itself to these ancient beings. To prove itself worthy.

"That's why you're really here, isn't it?" I ask suddenly, understanding dawning. "Not to stop the wild magick, but to make sure I don't survive containing it."

The Council members don't deny it.

"If you die absorbing the power," the woman says gently, "it dies with you. The realms remain separate. The Old Ones remain bound."

"If you live," Gaida's father adds, "you become a beacon. A lighthouse in the dark, drawing them to our shores."

"There has to be another way," Thorne argues, his shadows darkening the hall. "We can't just sacrifice her."

"Can't we?" The woman's voice is silk over steel. "To save countless realms? To prevent the return of beings that would make your worst nightmares seem like pleasant dreams?"

My magick roars inside me, wanting to show them exactly what I'm capable of. Wanting to prove I'm strong enough to contain this power without dying. Even though this was my plan to begin with, having someone else suggest you sacrifice yourself, hits a bit different. It's chilling, and I want to rebel against it.

But that's what Nathaniel wants, isn't it? For me to prove myself. To become powerful enough to break the barriers between realms.

Balance. The key is balance.

"What if..." I start slowly, an idea forming. "What if there was a way to redirect the power? Not contain it or unleash it, but transform it?"

The Council members look intrigued despite themselves.

"Explain," Gaida's father commands.

"The forest's power wants to be free, but it doesn't have to be wild," I say, the idea becoming clearer. " What if we could change its nature? Make it something that strengthens the barriers between realms instead of breaking them?"

"Impossible," the woman states. "Power cannot be transformed, only contained or released."

"Really?" I let my magick show just a little, purple light dancing with shadows, ice, and flame. "Because I'm doing it right now. Four different types of magick, working together in ways that shouldn't be possible."

The Council members shift uneasily.

"It would take unprecedented control," Gaida's father muses. "The slightest slip..."

"Then it's a good thing I have help." I look at my guys. Each of them nods, ready to face whatever comes next.

"And what of your sire?" the woman asks. "He will try to stop you."

"Let him try." My voice carries more confidence than I feel. "He's not the only one who can play the long game."

The Council members confer silently for several long moments. Finally, Gaida's father speaks.

"We will give you until the time freeze ends to attempt your transformation. But know this. If you fail, if there's even a chance of the barriers weakening?—"

"You'll kill me," I finish. "I know."

He inclines his head slightly. "For what it's worth, I hope you succeed. The Old Ones... they should remain where they are."

I want to ask why he thinks that. Is he afraid of what they will take from him if they burst through the veil and rule once again? Everyone has an ulterior motive. This isn't about the greater good. It never was, and it never will be.

Except maybe I can change that. To me, this is about the greater good. I don't want this power. I never asked to be this fulcrum upon which the fate of the supernatural realms hangs. Fuck, two months ago, I didn't even know that any of this existed.

Watching the Council members file out, I feel the weight of what I've just proposed settle over me. Transform wild magick? Create new barriers between realms? Even with four types of magick at my disposal, it seems impossible. I was talking out of my arse and blowing smoke up theirs. I don't know what the fuck I was even suggesting, I just knew I had to say something to stop them from trying to kill me on the spot.

"So," Flint says into the silence, "you found another way."

"Just save multiple realms from ancient horror-beings while completely reinventing how magick works," Caine adds dryly. "Should be fun."

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I have no fucking idea what I'm saying or doing."

"Well, whatever it is you proposed, we have less than a week to figure it out," Thorne reminds us.

I look down at my hands, where four different types of magick still swirl together in ways that shouldn't be possible. I don't even know what my power really is. Well, I say four, but really, it's three. It's theirs, and I'm just borrowing it? Absorbing it through osmosis? What?

"Well," I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel, "I guess we better get started."

Because somewhere out there, Nathaniel is watching. Waiting. Planning.

The Old Ones are stirring in their ancient prison, sensing the possibility of freedom.

We have six days to change everything.

No pressure at all.