Page 18 of Hexy Bear
The entity moved closer to Tilly, and every adult in the room tensed for action. But before anyone could intervene, the six-year-old looked up at the ancient consciousness with an expression of profound sadness.
"You're lonely," she said simply. "That's why you keep taking people and putting them inside yourself. Because you're really, really lonely, and you think having lots of pieces of other peoplewill make the loneliness go away. But it doesn't work, does it? It just makes you more lonely, because pieces aren't the same as real friends."
For just a moment, the entity's composure cracked, revealing pain or regret flickering across its stolen features. But the moment passed quickly, replaced by renewed determination and barely controlled hunger.
"Loneliness is irrelevant," it said. "Survival is all that matters. And I have survived for millennia by adapting, by growing, by becoming more than I was. Now you will help me become more than I could ever have imagined."
The magical pressure intensified, pressing against them with enough force to make the inn's windows rattle in their frames. But instead of succumbing to the overwhelming display of power, Griff felt something inside him coming to the surface. The same protective fury that had driven him to shield his family from every threat they'd ever faced, amplified by the magical connection he now shared with Mara and Tilly and supported by the bonds of community that tied him to everyone else in the room.
"No," he said with absolute authority of a parent defending his child. "You're not taking anyone else. You're not hurting anyone else. And you're sure as hell not touching my family."
The entity's eyes narrowed as it realized that its display of overwhelming force was actually making them stronger rather than weaker. Their shared resistance was creating resonance, their combined will pushing back against its control in ways it clearly hadn't anticipated.
"Fascinating," it murmured, its attention shifting between all of them with predatory interest. "But ultimately irrelevant. You cannot stand against centuries of accumulated power with nothing but sentiment and good intentions."
That was when the real battle began, and everything any of them thought they knew about magic, community, and the power of love was about to be tested in ways none of them could have imagined.
NINE
GRIFF
The entity's first strike came without warning, a wave of psychic pressure that slammed into the inn's protective wards like a battering ram made of pure malevolence. The windows exploded inward in a shower of glass and silver light, while the carefully maintained magical barriers that had protected the building for over a century cracked like eggshells under the assault.
"Everyone down!" Leo shouted, his lion surging to the surface as he threw himself between the consumed figures and the civilians they were sworn to protect.
But Tilly was already moving, her small form blazing with power that made the air around her shimmer like heat waves. She stepped forward, directly into the path of the entity's attack, and raised her hands with the kind of instinctive magical control that should have taken decades to develop.
"No," she stated, her word had enough force to make reality itself pause. "You can't have them. They're my family, and I don't let anybody hurt my family."
The psychic wave hit her protective barrier and simply... stopped. Not deflected or absorbed, but negated entirely, as ifa six-year-old child had just told the fundamental forces of the universe to sit down and behave themselves.
The entity wearing Ruth's face stared at Tilly with an expression that cycled through surprise, hunger, and something akin to respect. "Remarkable," it said, its voice carrying harmonics that belonged to dozens of different people. "Helena Whitaker's bloodline with a mix of shifter bloodline and a touch of fae has exceeded even my most optimistic projections."
"Tilly, get back," Griff said, his bear wanting to take over as every protective instinct he possessed screamed at him to put himself between his daughter and the ancient thing that wanted to consume her. But when he tried to move forward, he found himself held in place by invisible bonds that wrapped around his limbs like steel cables.
"Now, now," the entity said chidingly. "Let's not interrupt the child when she's demonstrating such impressive capabilities. I've been waiting centuries to see what would happen when all three primary bloodlines converged in a single individual."
Mara's herbal magic was crackling around her fingers, green light that smelled of growing things and summer rain, but the entity's presence was interfering with her ability to access her full power. "She's not a single individual," Mara said through gritted teeth. "She's part of a family, part of a community. That's what you've never understood."
"Community is inefficient," the entity replied with Ruth's familiar smile twisted into something predatory. "Individual consciousness creates conflict, competition, waste. What I offer is unity, purpose, the elimination of all the petty squabbles and selfish desires that keep supernatural society from reaching its full potential."
"What you offer is slavery," Aerin said, her academic training allowing her to maintain analytical focus despite the supernatural chaos erupting around them. "You don't createunity, you destroy identity. You don't eliminate conflict, you consume everything that makes conflict worth having."
The consumed figures surrounding them began to move with eerie coordination, their faces blank with artificial contentment as they prepared to carry out whatever orders their collective consciousness issued. But instead of attacking, they simply stood watching, as if the entity was more interested in observing than in immediately overwhelming its opposition.
"You misunderstand my methods," the entity said, its attention focused primarily on Tilly, who was still maintaining her protective barrier with an ease that defied every known principle of magical development. "I don't destroy what I absorb. I preserve it, refine it, integrate it into something greater than the sum of its parts. Every consciousness I've collected retains its essential nature while contributing to a collective purpose that transcends individual limitations."
"Then why are they all empty?" Tilly asked, her young voice cutting through the entity's philosophical justifications with the directness of childhood. "If you're keeping the important parts, why do they all look like nobody's home?"
The question seemed to catch the entity off guard, its composed expression flickering as it processed an observation that challenged its fundamental assumptions about its own nature. For just a moment, uncertainty crossed the stolen features, and in that moment of hesitation, something unexpected happened.
One of the consumed figures, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and graying hair, suddenly looked directly at Tilly with genuine awareness.
"Help," she whispered, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of desperate hope. "Please... we're still here... still trapped..."
The entity's attention snapped to the woman who had spoken, and the brief flicker of individual consciousness was immediately suppressed. But the damage was done. The illusion of willing participation, of integration that preserved essential identity, had been shattered by a single word from someone who was supposed to be beyond independent thought.
"Interesting," Nico said quietly, his ancient fae senses picking up magical currents that others might miss. "It seems your collective isn't quite as unified as you've been claiming."
