All of it was gone now.
Outside the window, storm clouds gathered in response to her grief. Rain began to fall—soft at first, then harder. A downpour that matched the tears streaming down her face.
And through it all, the mate bond hummed between them. Permanent. Unbreakable.
A reminder that no matter how far she ran, they’d always be connected.
Hours later,when the tears had finally stopped and exhaustion had settled into her bones, Muriel sat up and stared at the wall.
She wanted to go home.
Home to Shenandoah, to her cottage with its wild gardens and greenhouse sanctuary. Back to the life she'd had before opening theCodex, before Silas Corvus appeared at her door, and before she'd come to Brandon for help.
She could pack her bag right now and be in her own bed by dawn. Pretend none of this had happened.
Except she couldn't.
She was angry and hurt but she wasn’t stupid. Had she stayed in Shenandoah, she’d likely be in the hands of the Collectors by now. Like it or not, Brandon had probably saved her life.
But at what cost?
No, running away to lick her wounds wasn’t feasible.The Collectors were still hunting her. Every uncontrolled surge broadcasted her location like a beacon, and given the emotional storm raging through her right now, she’d be lighting up the sky without Brandon’s magical guardrails holding it in place.
Corvus would find her. The Magisterial Consilium would send others. They wouldn't stop until they had theCodex—and her.
Brandon had said the bond was permanent, but would it be as effective at long distances as it was in proximity?
The thought made her chest tighten with frustrated rage. Even her escape routes were stolen from her. She was trapped—by danger, by circumstance, and a mate bond she'd never asked for.
No. Not trapped. Just... limited in options.
Muriel pulled theCodexinto her lap, seeking comfort from the only thing that had been hers before Brandon had complicated everything. The ancient grimoire warmed under her touch, and more images filtered through her mind.
They weren’t the violent visions of hunters and fleeing keepers this time. These were gentler. A woman with her eyes, standing in a moonlit garden with a man whose face was obscured by shadow. The woman's hand in his. Their magic spiraling together—green and blue, earth and sky, perfectly balanced.
Another image: a different woman, same hazel greeneyes, same delicate features. She stood beside a broad-shouldered figure wreathed in darkness, but his energy was protective, not threatening. His hand was on the small of her back as they faced approaching danger, together.
More keepers. More shadowy figures.
More protectors.
The realization hit her like cold water. In every vision theCodexhad shown her, there had been shadowy figures in the background. She'd assumed they were threats. But looking at them now through the lens of what she'd learned about mate bonds... what if they weren't enemies?
What if they were like Brandon—bound to their keeper mates, protecting them?
Some bonds are written in stars and sealed in blood.
The woman from her vision had said that. Not as a warning, but as an explanation. This was the pattern. This was the legacy. Keeper witches and their mate-bonded protectors, generation after generation.
Which meant...
Muriel's mind skittered away from the thought before it could fully form. She wasn't ready to examine that possibility. Wasn't ready to consider that maybe the bond wasn't the betrayal she'd named it.
But another thought crept in, unwelcome and persistent.
Her mother had been heartbroken her entire life.Muriel had always assumed it was because her father had used her and abandoned her.
But what if... What if her mother's grief hadn't been based in betrayal at all? What if she'd been mourning a mate bond severed by loss?