Page 35 of Magic Forsaken

For what felt like an eternity, we remained frozen in place. I could feel the warmth of his skin, the intensity of his regard, and the immense wellspring of power within that scaled form. But I could also feelhim. Callum. His intense need to protect and his stubborn fury towards whoever dared to attack him. Attack his territory and his people…

Suddenly, my knees folded, and I hit the rooftop on my butt.

I’d almost fallen to my death, but the dragon had saved me. And while I was still huddled there in the cold breeze, unable to utter a word, one of those scaled forefeet pointed to the roof witha single claw, while the dragon fixed me with a stern stare as if to say…

Stay here.

Dark wings unfolded from his shoulders as he backed away, then they beat the air, buffeting me with swirling winds as he lifted off from the roof and melted into the darkness.

He wouldn’t be able to fly far, not here in the middle of the city, so I knew he would be back. And in the meantime… I could go back down and look for clues—from solid ground.

Maybe he’d meant for me to stay on the rooftop, but he wasn’t the boss of me yet. And I wanted very much to not be on top of this building in case someone tried to blow it up again.

I darted for the door with speed that would have made even my fae tormentors proud, dashing down the stairs and pausing to catch my breath only once I was midway down the hall.

It was worth remembering that our attackers might still be in the building. Despite the increased traffic of a Saturday night, I’d seen no sign of suspicion or alarm in the streets outside—it was as if they’d seen and heard nothing, so there was probably a sinister reason why.

If I just rushed out of here, I risked running straight into an ambush.

For the smallest instant, I wished I’d been born a true shapeshifter. That I could use my shifted form without thought and without guilt. I would be able to search in silence and sniff out any intruders with ease.

But it wasn’t like I had no other skills. I just had to figure out who or what I was facing…

And that, of course, was when the power went out, leaving me completely in the dark.

If I were in a movie,this was the exact moment when the creepy music would start playing so the audience would know something was about to happen.

I didn’t need music to feel a little creeped out. I could hear sounds from outside through the shattered windows at each end of the hall, but the sixth floor hallway itself was eerily silent. If anyone was up here with me, they were behind one of the doors.

All of them proved to be locked—including Callum’s apartment, so I headed for the stairs. I hadn’t been lying when I told Faris my hearing was excellent—it was the only one of my senses that had improved even in human form. If anyone tried to sneak up behind me, I would know, so I started down the dark stairwell one cautious step at a time, trying not to breathe loudly.

Halfway down the first flight, I missed a step in the darkness and fell forward. My ankle rolled, and I hit the stairs on my shoulder with a pained grunt before sliding the rest of the way down to the landing.

I ended on my back, biting my cheek to keep from crying out from the pain. My ankle throbbed. I’d hit my head on one of the stairs. But I had to move, because I still didn’t know whether anyone was out there in the dark, windowless stairwell.

It didn’t have to be this hard, the insidious voice in my head insisted. Power seethed and crackled just beneath my skin. I could let it go free. The stairwell would no longer be dark, and my enemies would run fromme. But what would that make me? Who would I be if I just gave up and accepted it? Accepted what I had become. Would I still be me, or would I be as corrupted as the tormentors I despised?

And how would it change the way everyone looked at me?

You can’t hide from this, Raine.

Stop running.

Magic always breaks free.

Were they right? Was this ultimately a losing battle I fought with myself?

I didn’t know how to calculate the risks. Didn’t know the answers to any of my questions. I only knew that I couldn’t keep lying there in the dark, so I rolled over and rose to my feet, wincing when my weight hit my ankle.

One torturous step at a time, I made my way down those seemingly interminable flights of stairs. Nothing jumped out of the dark, no doors slammed, no footsteps echoed down from above. If there was anyone else in the building, they were still in hiding.

With that comforting thought, I finally reached the foot of the stairs and stuck my head out into the foyer to listen for anything suspicious.

I heard water—like the sound of a shower running—and winced again, this time at the thought of the damages. Probably the sprinkler system had been activated, which meant an absolute mountain of cleanup, just when the remodel appeared to be nearly finished.

Maybe that had been our attacker's goal. Callum and Faris both believed there was a saboteur attempting to put an end to the Symposium. If they destroyed the building—or at least made it unusable for the intended purpose—it might be enough to discourage attendees from coming all this way.

And if that was the case, the saboteurs probably hadn’t stuck around to rejoice in their success.

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