Page 56 of Anomalies

I’d rather die than admit it, but I think he might be right. This foreign thing in my blood is more than capable of ripping me apart. I can feel it in the heavy thrum of it as it dances through my veins. I can feel it in the fire that comes up my throat whenever I summon it, and even the dark pit that gets left behind when the rest of it is spent taunts me. Of course I’m scared, I’d be stupid not to be.

“Don’t give it the power to scare you.” Callan’s stare lands on another rock—sorry, small boulder. “Try again, and don’t be afraid. I’m here if anything goes wrong.”

I arch a brow at him, and he smiles.

I don’t know who I’m sitting next to—but it isn’t the Captain. Not how I’ve come to know him. He was prodding through my memories only hours ago, threatening to wipe them from existence.

I straighten my spine, pull back my shoulders, and shake out my hands. Then I take a quick deep breath and let the magic consume me once more, confining it to my fingertips.

Chaos brews beneath my skin, and a wave of nausea passes over me as I raise my hand to the rock across from us. I pluck it from the ground, a tear running down my cheek as I try desperately not to vomit. I think I’d keel over and die if I threw up in front of him⁠—

“Focus, Lucina.”

My breath is shaky as I exhale, a restless sea raging within me, and I’m being pummeled by the waves. The same waves that nearly drowned me three weeks ago.

The fear quickly gives way to anger and frustration. You’re mine, I tell the living thing inside me, but this time it isn’t a prayer; it’s a command.

You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine⁠—

Something snaps⁠—

And all at once, everything stops.

Every ounce of magic trapped inside stills, like it’s…waiting. Waiting for me.

Gods, I did it. I can feel it. It’s mine. Wholly mine.

Magic cracks exactly as I tell it to, and the rock falls over the edge. The splash that follows is music to my ears.

Triumphantly, I turn to face Callan, who mimics my excitement for only a moment before a flash of gold shimmers in the air around us. Something moves beneath my skin, rumbling like thunder, and when I look down at my hands⁠—

A line of gold ink winds between my fingers, twisting around my wrists, and trailing up my arms. The mark of my bloodline. I feel it sliding up my neck like a snake, and I watch as Callan’s stare settles on my forehead.

He stumbles back a step, eyes dangerously wide and skin dangerously pale.

“What is it?” I panic, my heart beginning to beat erratically in my chest. “Callan,” I snap when he doesn’t answer, “what bloodline is this?”

His voice comes out breathless, and my entire world tilts on it’s side. “Van Reenan.”

15

LUCINA

“That’s not funny,” I tell him, my voice distant, but nothing in his wide eyes suggests he’s joking. “No, that’s not possible, Callan. There’s… been a mistake.”

The Captain is dead silent, but I can tell by the harsh look on his face that his thoughts are screaming.

When his eyes fall down my body, I move my shawl in a poor attempt to cover the gold still inked in my arms. “This is crazy,” my voice rises in panic. “I’m not a Van Reenan⁠—"

Faster than anything has the right to move, the Captain has one hand behind my head and the other clasped over my mouth. “Keep your voice down,” he says in a tone that leaves no room for argument, then I watch in real time as the mask of the Captain slides back into place—cold, detached, and strategic. “Now take a deep breath…” he waits for me to do so, inhaling with me, then exhaling slowly. “And put your magic back. All of it.”

It's never been easier to lock it all away, now that it moves and breathes at my whim, and within seconds, the bright ink fades.

“Good.” The Captain exhales, like he’s relieved that it’s gone, then he slowly removes the hand covering my mouth and untangles his fingers from my hair. “Lucina⁠—"

“That doesn’t make sense,” I cut him off, rifling through everything I know about that bloodline. “That would mean I… and I can’t be⁠—”

The daughter of a traitor.