My breath caught in my throat. I scrambled out of bed, suddenly desperate to escape the confines of my room. Theburned spiral on my blanket seemed to mock me as I fumbled for the light switch, my fingers clumsy with fear.
The living room was dimly lit when I stepped into it, the glow from my hands providing more illumination than the night lights Fenric had insisted on installing "for security purposes." Zane was pacing by the window, his body tense as a bowstring. He turned when he heard me, his mismatched eyes narrowing with concern.
"You feel it too." It wasn't a question.
I nodded, rubbing my arms to dispel the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. "Something's wrong. I woke up and my hands were glowing, and there was a burned spiral on my blanket."
Rook rose from his position by the door, nostrils flaring as he scented the air. "The apartment smells wrong."
"Wrong how?" I moved closer to them both, seeking the comfort of their presence.
"Like ozone," Rook's eyes gleamed amber in the dim light. "And something else. Something that shouldn't be here."
I looked around, suddenly noticing an absence. "Where's Milo and Horrace? Fenric?"
"Left about three hours ago," Zane's voice was tight with tension. "Milo said he felt a weird energy fluctuation and wanted to check it out and he asked Horrace to go with him. He hasn't checked in. Fenric had an emergency meeting."
Alarm shot through me. "And you let Milo go alone?"
"He insisted," Rook growled. "Said it was probably nothing, just some necromantic residue he wanted to investigate."
"We should call him," I reached for my phone, but Zane shook his head.
"Already tried. It goes straight to voicemail."
The unease that had woken me intensified, coiling in my gut like a living thing. I moved to the window beside Zane, lookingout at the city skyline. Something about the light seemed off, too sharp, too defined, as if reality itself had been turned up a notch.
"Something's off. It's like the world's hiccuping and pretending it's fine," Zane murmured, his eyes scanning the horizon.
As if in response to his words, a wave of energy surged through me without warning. My magic exploded outward, doubled and overcharged, hitting the wall with enough force to leave a smoking crater. A book that had been on a nearby shelf fell in slow motion, taking several seconds to drift to the floor in a temporal delay that made my skin crawl.
"Winter!" Zane grabbed my shoulders, steadying me as I staggered. "What was that?"
"I don't know," I gasped, staring at the damaged wall in horror. "It just happened. I couldn't control it."
The door opened with a bang, and we all spun toward it, ready for an attack. Instead, Fenric stood in the doorway, his silver-blonde hair disheveled, his usually immaculate suit wrinkled. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and a grim set to his mouth.
"We have a situation," he announced without preamble, stepping into the apartment and closing the door firmly behind him.
I'd barely seen him since our kiss. When we had gone to the breach, it was contained and they wouldn't allow me and my unstable prophecy magic near it for safety concerns.
"No shit," I gestured to the smoking hole in the wall. "My magic just went haywire."
Fenric barely glanced at the damage, which was unusual for someone who documented every sneeze I made. "It's happening citywide. We've had reports of multiple magical anomalies in the last six hours."
"What kind of anomalies?" Rook moved closer to me protectively.
"Chronomancers losing time. Familiar bonds breaking spontaneously. Spirit animals going mute." Fenric's eye twitched, a sure sign of extreme stress. "And multiple low-level veil leaks reported across the city."
A chill ran down my spine. "The breach at the containment facility, you said it was contained."
"It was. Physically." Fenric's gaze met mine, and I saw genuine fear there. "But the effects are spreading. The Veil didn't just crack. It stretched and it's still moving."
"What does that mean?" I demanded, even as dread pooled in my stomach.
Before Fenric could answer, Rook stepped forward, his face tight with barely controlled anger. "What did you do?" he demanded, eyes fixed on me.
The accusation stung. "I didn't do anything. That's the problem." Hurt flashed through me.
