Page 89 of Anomalies

“Well, maybe I don’t want my future to be predetermined based on something I never asked for,” I reply, and the room falls silent.

“Ah, wanting,” Delia hums around the word. “There is no wanting for you, Lucina. There is only the will of Fate, the will of the Matrons, and the will of Magic. You will have no dream that does not align with that trinity. Believe it or don’t, but you will learn it, as all the women before you have.”

Ceres grins back at me, the tilt to her red-painted lips smug and triumphant. Laverna’s fingers fidget with the fabric of her robes, and the Dame is watching Callan…who has yet to take his eyes off me.

You will have no dream that does not align with that trinity.

I roll out my shoulders, magic replenishing like grains of sand in an hourglass.

You will learn it, as all the women before you have.

I lift my chin and smile weakly. “We’ll see, Your Grace.”

“Glad you’re alive,” Callan snaps when the door shuts behind us and hot summer air kisses my cheeks. “Now, I can kill you myself.”

“Let’s focus more on the alive part⁠—”

“No, I’d rather kill you,” he says, frantically checking my pupils, calloused fingers gripping my chin. “You let them get the better of you. I told you to let me handle it.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him, reaching for all the strength I have to stand on my own. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

Callan shakes his head as if I’ve missed the point entirely. “I’m not fighting your battles, Chaos, I’m fighting the things you shouldn’t have to deal with. Let me, please.”

I blink up at him, magic replenishing faster now that the sun is beating down on my bare shoulders.

Callan’s chin jerks to the door behind us, dark stubble catching the sun. “No more of that,” he says plainly. “No more risking yourself for the sake of pride.”

I clear my throat, swallowing against the tightness there. “Okay.”

“Good.” He releases me only to lace his fingers through mine. “Let’s go.”

I wobble a bit as I steady myself to fall in step beside him. “Where are we going?”

I haven’t asked why he’s wearing more armor than usual, or why he’s been extra broody ever since his meeting with Delia yesterday, but I just figured she denied yet another plan he’s been working on. His coven is supposed to leave at the end of next week.

“The Yard,” he says bluntly, his body tense underneath all the armor. “There’s been a change of plans, and our training can’t wait until tonight.”

“Training?” I start to panic. “But Callan, I⁠—”

“Drained every drop of power to put Ceres in her place? Well aware.” I blink back at him, afraid, but then he adds, “Today’s training won’t be magic-focused, you’ll be fine.”

Callan shifts on the path, putting himself between me and a group of Floras that walk past. Their stares linger on our clasped hands, then instantly they whisper to one another. I know the Captain sees it; he sees everything. But he makes no move to release my hand.

“What change of plans?” I ask.

“I’m leaving tonight.”

“Tonight?” My voice comes out shriller than I would have liked it to.

“Delia approved my plans yesterday, but there is a storm moving across the continent, which will make traveling to Streatham more tedious if we were to wait until next week.”

Fear creeps into my heart, and it feels too potent; he isn’t mine to worry about.

“How long will you be gone?” I ask, stepping to his side when the crowd on the path thickens.

“If all goes well, a week. But if we don’t get what we need before the storm passes, we’ll have to wait it out.” He glances down at me, checking my reaction. “That could mean two weeks, maybe less.”

Two weeks.