“Around six,” she yawns. Then she swears softly. “My head is pounding.”
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, quiet and cracked. “Mine too.”
“Maybe we sleep in and talk later,” she says.
“Sounds good.” My voice comes out hoarse.
She’s quiet for a second. Then, softer, “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Her footsteps fade. The front door opens, then closes. A car engine rumbles outside a moment later, and I imagine Damon in his uniform, rain still dripping from his hair, looking furious at the world like usual.
I sink down until the water laps at my shoulders. The cold bites into me, but god, it feels incredible. My skin still tingles, warm in places no cold water seems able to touch, but at least the dizziness is fading.
I focus on the ceiling, letting the cold soak into my bones. Everything aches. My body feels like it’s been rewired overnight, like someone reached inside and twisted every dial to maximum.
This isn’t normal. Magic surges make people sick or jittery, sure, but this is something else. Something deep and strange and frighteningly pleasant.
I don’t want to think about that.
I close my eyes, letting the sound of the water fill the space around me. The storm outside has softened to a gentle patter. My breathing slows.
I’m drifting again when I hear Thistle leap onto the sink. His tail flicks against the cabinet. He watches me with narrowed eyes, as if he can sense the weird magic vibrating beneath my skin.
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
He flicks his tail again.
“Okay, maybe I’m not fine.”
I don’t have answers. I don’t even know where to start looking for them. A Rift surge hit last night, of course things feel weird, but this is… intense.
Too intense.
I dunk my face beneath the water for a moment, letting the cold burn away the confusion. When I surface again, my hair sticks to my cheeks.
I breathe.
I breathe again.
The water helps. Not completely, but enough that I can think in straight lines.
Eventually the chill starts sinking deeper, settling into my bones. My fingers wrinkle. My teeth give a tiny tap that warns me I’m not invincible, and I sigh, climbing out of the tub.
The towel feels rough on my skin, every tiny fiber sending a shiver through me. I pad into the bedroom, Thistle shadowing me from the bathroom before hopping onto the bed. I dress slowly, tugging on a soft sleep shirt and loose shorts, then collapse face-first onto the mattress.
The pillow smells like lavender. My breath fogs against the fabric. My eyelids flutter.
But the moment I’m still, the humming returns. Low. Constant. Unsettling.
I flip onto my back, arms sprawled out, staring at the ceiling again.
“What is happening to me?” I whisper to the empty room.
The last memory before the surge hit flashes through me—Theo’s hand sliding up my spine. His fingers brushing the marks on my neck. A dizzy rush that had felt nothing like normal attraction and everything like standing too close to a ley line.
And then I see Damon in my mind, drenched from the storm, glowering at the world. My stomach flips for no reason.
