Page 64 of Mane Squeeze
She blinked. “And we were one of his tests.”
He nodded grimly. “He knew we were tied. He didn’t create the bond—he just twisted what was already there. Because our connection, our resistance to magic, it proved something. That certain threads of magic can’t be rewritten without consequence. That there are still forces older than him.”
Lillith’s skin prickled. “So he’s using those consequences. Weaponizing them.”
“Yeah,” Dominic said. “And he’s done being subtle. His next move is to infiltrate the Council of Concords.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The council?”
“He said the humans have gotten arrogant. Lazy. He plans to use the Echo rifts, channeling old magic through them, destabilizing borders between realms. That way, when he shows up with solutions—offerings to ‘heal’ the tear—he’ll look like a savior. Not a threat.”
Lillith sat back slowly, her mind racing. “So he creates chaos, then shows up with control.”
“Exactly,” Dominic said. “Classic power grab. He’s not just after us anymore. He wants the entire Accord system shattered. He wants to rebuild the world, throne by throne, with him at the top.”
She swallowed hard. “And if the Pact falls…”
“There’ll be no boundaries between realms,” Dominic finished. “No rules. Just raw, ancient power flooding through the world again. Cities will crumble. Magic will rot the ground. Creatures we’ve only read about in fairy tales will walk under daylight.”
Lillith went silent. She could hear the thrum of the ley lines from her cottage—always could. It had been background noise since she was a child. But now, she imagined them unraveling. Threads snapping. The heartbeat of the world falling out of rhythm.
Her voice was small when she said, “That’s madness.”
Dominic’s gaze locked with hers. “He’s not just after us anymore, Lil. He’s after everything.”
Silence sat between them for a long breath, heavy and electric.
“And I think,” he added, “he’s going to the council next. Not just to speak. To infiltrate. To curse the charter, maybe. Something worse.”
Lillith’s fingers twitched in her lap. “Then we need to warn them.”
“We need to do more than that,” Dominic said. His voice was harder now, clipped with purpose. “We need proof. We need records. The original Pact transcriptions. Your research. Maybe even whatever’s buried at Echo Archive. If Markus still has contacts at the Concord library, we can start there. We’ll need to move fast.”
Her throat worked as she nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay. We can do that. I have notes. Glyph studies. And a coded ledger Rowan helped me with last year. Might be something there.”
“Good,” he said, setting the empty cup aside. “We don’t wait for him to strike next. We don’t react—we outplay him.”
Lillith looked at him, and for a moment she wasn’t a woman haunted by old ghosts, or a runaway noble turned wardweaver. She was his. And she was ready.
“I’m with you,” she said, voice quiet but unshakable.
He turned to her, something like wonder in his eyes. “You mean that?”
Her smile was small, but real. “I mean it.”
Dominic reached for her hand, lacing their fingers. No magic surged this time. No bond hummed in their skin. Just touch.
Lillith reached to her nightstand, pulling out a small bundle wrapped in silk. She handed it to him, her fingers lingering as he took it.
“What’s this?” he asked, brow furrowed.
“Open it.”
He did, carefully. Inside was a bracelet—worn leather, dark and sturdy, threaded with silver and marked by three runes stitched in thread that shimmered gold in the light.
“A rune-sigil?” he asked, voice quiet.
“Protection. Clarity. Loyalty,” she said. “It’s not magical like the tether. It doesn’t bind you. It doesn’t control. But it’s yours. If you want it.”
