Page 3 of Oh, Sacred Dark
From inside the house, the voice of Landon’s husband floated out. “I can hear you.”
“See?” Landon hissed at Tyler, but there was amusement glowing in his eyes.
Tyler laughed, shaking his head. Those two were always pretending to bicker while being grossly in love. “Uh-huh. Point me to the damage, and I’ll get going with it.”
“Sure thing,” Landon replied, walking to the side of the house.
It had been nineteen years since Tyler’s magic had manifested at age thirteen—right about the time his dynamic as a Dom became obvious. Still, after all that time, using his abilities felt as good as those first times—better even, now that he was skilled in its application.
Transformation Magic didn’t turn one piece of matter into another. Instead, it grew what was already there, be it organic or soul matter. Tyler had learnt how to weave wards out of coven bonds as well as how to create wood out of a stump. There were a lot of materials that were impossible to grow with Transformation Magic—alive, complex organisms. Water. Anything that had been taken beyond its natural state—processed flour as much as bread was out of the reach of magic.
Tyler had the ability to create things that nature and soul could make. Nothing more and nothing less.
It took an understanding of the self to do so. A deep connection and understanding with the world around him.
It was difficult work, necessitating energy and concentration, but it was peaceful, too. Tyler had his own workshop to make more refined structures—art, furniture—the intricacies more fulfilling to create, but fixing things for the community had its own appeal.
He was sweating by the time he finished with the roof. He drifted out of his trance slowly, as if he were surfacing from dark waters, the pressure change making his ears pop. He sat there for a while, gathering the pieces of himself which had slipped into his surroundings like phantom filaments, before making his way down the ladder.
Tyler didn’t know what he would do without a coven. Without the soul connection it brought—the stability to spirit and magic. His mind wandered to Roman, to his still face and green eyes. Did he feel lost without the connection? He didn’t seem to care about much of anything, at least externally, but surely he felt the lack?
It was almost lunchtime when he said goodbye to Landon and Bobby, so he made his way to the Main House. It’d been two days since he had visited, and he was probably due a check-in with Roman.
The ground floor of the Main House was bustling with the lunch crowd, people setting the tables and carrying large dishes of food for people to serve themselves. Tyler made his way to the kitchen, winding around the cooks to find the head of the operation.
“Hey, Mama Nai.”
Mama Nai shot him an impatient look, her dark-brown face creased with age but eyes still as sharp as they had ever been. “Not a good time for chit-chat. Help set the tables.”
“I will! Just wondering how Roman is doing. He mention anything during mealtimes?”
Mama Nai’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion briefly. “Oh, that boy. He must be eating outside of mealtimes. I haven’t seen him since he came. He’ll be picking from the food left out for the stragglers.”
Now it was Tyler’s turn to frown. “He hasn’t been eating with the rest of you?”
“Nope. Don’t be so hard on him—he’s in a new place. Maybe he’s overwhelmed by it all and wants to eat alone,” she said in response to Tyler’s obviously displeased expression.
Tyler hummed noncommittally. Every coven he had ever visited would frown at a newcomer neglecting communal time. “I’ll help in a sec, I’m just going to check in on him.”
“Don’t be too hard on him,” she repeated. He bussed her cheek and escaped the chaos of the kitchen, stepping into the much cooler air of the stairwell leading up. There was an elevator for those who needed it, but Tyler wanted a second to gather himself.
He’d banked on having a little information on Roman prior to seeing him again, and the fact that the sub hadn’t shown his face during mealtimes was more disquieting than it should be. Tyler understood being traumatised by past events, but he couldn’t imagine a magic user not wanting to settle into a coven—how anybody wouldn’t be desperate for it.
Tyler had made sure to explain that lunch and dinner were set times. To expect to be fed outside of those was just…presumptuous. To not even have talked to Mama Nai? It was just suspicious.
Tyler took a breath as he got to the third floor. There was no point in overreacting to such a small thing. Like Mama Nai had said—maybe Roman was just overwhelmed. After all, it wasn’t like Tyler had been there to accompany him and act as a buffer.
He knocked on Roman’s door firmly, waiting until it opened slowly, revealing a pale Roman.
Roman blinked slowly as if he had just woken up despite it being almost one o’clock.
“Hey, Roman,” Tyler grunted out.
“Hello,” Roman replied in that same tone-empty voice. He took a few steps away, but Tyler remained in the hallway.
“I hear you haven’t been going to lunch and dinner,” Tyler stated as neutrally as possible.
Roman sat on the edge of the bed, back straight, and looked away defiantly. “Yes.”
