Page 71 of Gift from the Stone

Stepping out of the cover of darkness, Caspian’s dressed from head to toe in black, blending in darkly, drop dead sexily, with the shadows that cling to him. That dangerous look in his eye mixed with the smirk on his lips has me both pissed that he scared me on purpose and squirming from his playfulness.

“I was reading up on the portals before you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing creeping out of the walls?” I ask sarcastically.

“Will you give us a minute Perfecta Anima?” he asks Oakly rather than answer me.

“You know I have a name and it’s Oakly,” she snarks, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m aware. I need a moment with my Primary,” he replies, just as snarky.

I snort as Oakly gathers her stuff, muttering how he’s an ass, and she takes it personally he won’t bother calling her by her name. I’m pretty sure he does it on purpose just to piss her off because of her blatant favoritism to my guys, and needless to say, he’s not the favorite.

“Why do you do that?” I snicker.

“Do what?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

“Not use her name. You don’t even say my name unless I’m in trouble,” I muse.

“I use her name, just not out loud,” he vaguely replies.

“But why? And what about me?” I ask.

After a moment of rigid silence, I get the picture that, for some reason, I’ve pushed a sensitive topic. I guess it never truly occurred to me that it was an issue because I’ve never seen him interact with any females, aside from me and Oakly. He avoids most people like the plague besides me, the guys, and Gaster. He tolerates Oakly’s Nexus at best.

Willing to drop this subject for now since he’s obviously not ready or willing to talk about it, I lean down to pick my journal up, but his shadows block my way, gathering it up and moving it out of my reach. Whipping my head up to look at him, the serious expression he’s wearing dries any words I may or may not have thought about saying next.

“For the longest time, I haven’t addressed any female by their name. It makes them a real person. I address her as your Perfecta Anima because it’s just what I’m used to. And you…” He pauses, running his shadows across my skin, wrapping me up and pulling me to my feet.

“When you first arrived, I didn’t want to acknowledge you as real or as anything more than another female. Names carry power, and I didn’t want you to have that power over me, so I refused to use it, and I addressed you as anything but. Her, she, the girl, the spy, anything but your name. Then you became more, so much more than just Willow. You became my Primary. The highest, greatest, most powerful blessing, so I hold you in such regard. You are my Willow, but more importantly, you’re my Primary.”

My mouth falls open and closed as I ponder his words. I’m not sure how to respond honestly. The possessive way he says it makes my heart flutter in my chest and my bond glows from the recognition. I’ve just assumed this whole time he calls me Primary as a pet name, like all the guys have given me one, but this seems so much more coming from him.

“Tell me what you were reading,” he says, distracting me from the multitude of things I want to say and questions I want to ask. It’s evident from his tense posture and haunted eyes that there’s more to his reasoning, but he’s not willing to explain further, and that’s okay with me for now.

“Portas Regnorum,” I answer.

“Ah, the Portals of the Realms. Why’s that caught your attention?” he asks as he guides us to sit back down on Gaster’s couch.

“I found the physical copy at Gaster’s when you all were interrogating Jarod and something about it has stuck to me ever since. The Mastery has to have some sort of means to be traveling between the realms. Either by a portal or by someone like Gaster,” I explain. His curiosity trickles in slowly through our bond, making mine pique even more. If it’s caught his interest, I know I’m onto something.

“Gaster explained to you the portals closed and why we believe they did?” he asks.

“Yes, he did. But read this. I really believe there’s some sort of connection between the blood magic and the portals,” I declare.

When he hands me my journal back, I quickly recite my search spell to bring me back to the page I had just finished reading before he made me lose my place. Once the pages reveal, I quickly skim back over the passage I want him to read. This was written in a time when the portals were still open, this knowledge is both old and so enlightening.

As the portals began opening one by one across the fabric of existence, the price of passage had to be paid by those willing to travel the distance. Where a mixture of magic can predominantly be found in all the realms now, powering the crossing of the portals, there was a time when there was no mixing of beings across the lands.

Each realm held their own source of power that had never mingled with any other. The only connection to any of us was the similarities of our life essence, thus creating the payment for passage.

Turning the book around to him, I point to the paragraph and wait to see what he thinks about it. Impatiently tapping my foot after a few moments because I swear, he must’ve read the damn thing a hundred times by now. After my second huff, he smirks and hands me my journal back.

“I do believe you’re onto something, Primary. There’s a connection between the dagger, the gem, and the portals. And it has something to do with their blood,” he concludes.

“Yes, exactly. You think that too?” I ask excitedly.

“I think there’s a very big possibility,” he, not as enthusiastically as me, agrees.

“What are you doing with your day? Do you want to stay with me during my free period and keep looking into the portals?” I ask casually.

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