Page 37 of Magic Forsaken

It had been freshly textured and painted in light gray, a bright note against the dark wood and steel accents. But now it was covered in words, the letters two feet high, scorched into the wall as if with a monster blow-torch.

DEATH TO THE TRAITOR’S

END THE SYMPOSIUM OR DIE

THE HUMAN’S WILL KNEEL BEFORE THERE RIGHTFUL RULERS

IDRIAS POWER WILL RISE AGAIN AND THOSE WHO STAND IN HER WAY WILL BURN!

Melodramatic much? And right out in the open, where anyone walking by could see the message through the windows?

Someone was indeed threatened by this Symposium, and they were willing to risk war with the humans in order to stop it. Or maybe war with the humans was what they were hoping for?

Callum just stood there, staring at the words, arms folded, water dripping down his face as his jaw turned to granite and the veins on his forehead seemed to pulse with fury. Power gathered in the air, growing stronger and heavier with every breath.

I couldn’t even have said what impulse drove me to open my mouth. Only that I was becoming increasingly unsure of how hewas going to respond, and I needed to say something to break the tension.

“At least we know we weren’t attacked by a high school English teacher.”

It worked… Well, partially. The dragon stopped staring at the wall as if he could burn it down with the power of his gaze, but then he was staring at me instead, as if he couldn’t believe he’d heard me correctly.

Oh right. Kira had warned me. The king of the shifters had no discernible sense of humor.

“This wasn’t the work of an individual, but a group. The attack required—at minimum—three different elementals working in tandem. Fire to burn the letters, air to blow out the windows with precision, and earth to create the localized quake.” His voice was flat and clipped—almost robotic—but beneath it was a towering rage. “It took time to write this message. The fact that no one outside raised an alarm means a siren may have been involved as well.”

A siren? I hadn’t heard of those before. Part of me wanted to ask what a siren was and what they could do, but this was clearly not the right moment for idle curiosity.

“And did you discover anything else while you were flitting around out there?”

That one won me a sarcastic side-eye.

“The complete lack of any suspects or evidence in the vicinity,” he bit out. “Which might also mean fae rather than siren. It’s possible they somehow glamoured either themselves or the building.”

A chill shook me as I considered that a glamoured fae enemy could be literally anywhere. Could easily be someone I knew. Someone who knew me.

“Anything else?”

“It smells wrong.” He shook his head in evident frustration. “All of it. Something isn’t right and I can’t tell what.” Then he turned to me with an almost accusatory gaze. “Which you might have been able to sense for yourself if you were willing to embrace the fact that you’re a shapeshifter.”

He wasn’t going to let this go.

“I told you, I’ve chosen not to use any magic. I don’t want it.”

“Wanting has nothing to do with it! You act like it’s something you can change, like your name or your hair color, but it’s not. It’s who you are.”

I was so tired of this fight. So tired of battling the magic within myself, in addition to the reality that no one else would ever understand.

“It doesn’thaveto be who I am,” I said fiercely. “I can choose not to let it change me.”

“Changeyou?” he echoed incredulously. “Itisyou. I don’t know what you were taught by the humans who raised you, but magic is not wrong or unnatural. You can’t make it go away by denying that you have it.”

I could try. I didn’t know what else to do. Had no other way to grapple with the guilt that I lived with every minute, every hour of every day that I survived.

“And what about when it can save lives?” he demanded. “You say you hate bullies, and you’ve used your power instinctively twice, both times in defense of those weaker than you. So why not embrace that? Why not choose to use it to fight back against those who hurt others?”

His words hit me like a physical blow.

Because in some ways, he was so very wrong—my magicwasunnatural. I shouldn’t be able to do magic at all.

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