Chapter Nine

Present Day

November 9, 2026

 

AS MUCH AS Storm hated what he was seeing, he didn’t pull away from Ithen’s true heart. He kept watching the roll of memories, needing to learn all he could about this man at the centre of everything important in his life.

For the first time, he pitied Cesa Copry. The man suffered bouts of clarity throughout the next few years, fighting the curse Ithen placed upon him. He was often kind and sweet to Rowan and thought of Asher with fondness. Yet, no matter how long his victory, he always reverted to how Ithen made him: bitter, angry and convinced the Tera family had stolen his power. Cesa became obsessed with finding the amulet.

Storm wanted to reach into the past, to give Cesa his sanity back, to remind him that Asher loved him. He hadn’t known what love was before, but now he knew. He’d seen love in his parents, in Asher and Cesa’s relationship, in the glimpses of Cesa and Rowan. They were all different kinds of love but each true and solid; no amount of magic in the world could stop them from loving each other.

No matter how cursed Cesa was, his love for Asher and Rowan broke through. The fact he kept fighting was the only reason Storm couldn’t give up. He embraced the truth as he allowed Ithen’s memories to wash over him.

*

Ithen’s Memories: 2014

 

A BRUTAL STORM howled as Ithen arrived at the Tera manor for Storm’s sixth birthday. The property was dark at only six o’clock on the November night and he was glad Cesa hadn’t needed any convincing to stay home, despite Asher’s continued attempts to reach out to his old lover. Ithen hoped tonight would be the night he could unearth the last piece of information about the amulet.

“Storm, will you please talk to the wind?” Veronica’s voice floated through the entry hall behind the little boy running toward the stairs. She shook her head and crossed to Asher. “That is the strangest little boy I have ever met.”

Asher caught her around the waist with one arm, gazing into her eyes. “He is the best of both of us.”

Storm walked to the open door, ignoring Ithen standing there, and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Wind, could you please calm down? Mum is shouting at me like it’s my fault.” He stood and waited as the wind calmed to a hard breeze. “Thank you!” A crackle of black mist floated from his hands, drifting out the open door as Storm turned and ran to the stairs. The magic sailed through the air, becoming a flutter of leaves, dancing in the calmer wind.

Clearly the boy had learned to befriend and play with the wind.

Ithen scowled when Storm turned at the bottom of the stairs, where Rowan stood waiting, chatting to someone invisible.

“Come on, Yael. We’ll find you a new hat in the attic,” Rowan said, leading the way up the grand staircase with Storm hot on his heels. A few steps later, Asher lifted Storm off his feet to raucous laughter.

“No demons in the attic. You know dark magic can hurt your friend. Take the box and your friend to your room,” he advised, letting him go to continue his run upstairs. He didn’t seem concerned that his son was playing with demons.

Ithen watched in confusion. Intrigued to discover if the demon was real or if Storm had an imaginary friend, he turned to Asher. “Storm sees demons so young?”

“Since he was a baby,” Asher admitted with fondness. “He has a strong affinity for this one. What I find more curious is that Rowan has the ability. An elemental witch wouldn’t normally have contact with the darker arts at his age. The Fates must believe he’ll need the gift in the future.”

“To protect the amulet.”

That remark bought him a dark look from Asher. He grabbed Ithen’s arm and guided him into the privacy of the study, closing the doors behind him and flicking the lock. “How do you know of the amulet?”

“Cesa told me. He said I should know how to protect the spell, in case of an emergency,” Ithen explained, though he still needed to know how to find the spell and where the amulet was.

“I see.” Asher walked away and paused at the window. “Did he not tell you that you must be of Copry blood to protect the spell? Only a Copry can see the paper the spell is written on, just as a Tera is the only one who can see the amulet.”

Ithen raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised, though the words confirmed what Cesa had told him. He was neither Tera nor Copry and Cesa wasn’t likely to bend to his will, with the way he continually fell into old habits. Ithen had been forced to increase the hold over his mind, and he feared another push may break him entirely.

“I didn’t know,” Ithen lied, digging deep in his magic to find the darker spells, the ones to control and manipulate minds. With a flick of his wrist, he muttered the words to the spell until Asher froze mid-step and was fully under his control. “Bring the amulet to me.”

Intriguingly, Asher resisted. No one had ever resisted him, not even in those fleeting moments Cesa regained his faculties. He always succumbed again because believing the lies Ithen had fed him came so easily.

Ithen pushed more magic into the spell, watching the alertness remain in those beautiful dark eyes. He needed to vanquish Asher’s consciousness for the spell to take root, and if that required more magic then so be it.

After only two minutes, the sound of footsteps approached the door, followed by a polite knock. “Asher?” Veronica called, repeating her husband’s name a few times.

Every time Veronica spoke, Asher fought harder and gained more control, able to curl his hands into fists. Ithen couldn’t let him regain enough to utilise his magic. “I didn’t want to do this,” he admitted, dragging out the darkest magic from the Tera grimoire. The moment he called the shadows from the corners of the room, Asher’s eyes widened with understanding.

Ithen bought a few inches of ground, shoving Asher’s consciousness so far that his eyes flickered between awareness and emptiness. Just two more minutes and Asher would be his puppet.

“Asher! What’s wrong? Cesa says you’re in danger!” Veronica shouted, though her voice didn’t inspire another resurgence of Asher’s consciousness.

He was almost fully submerged in Ithen’s will.

Another, harder knock battered the wooden door, and Cesa’s voice shouted through in panic, “Asher, stay away from Ithen. Fight him!”

The result was instant. If Ithen had ever doubted the fabled power of love, he saw its effect in full force. Asher loved his wife but seemed to love Cesa with a strength so powerful and deep that Asher broke through the spell with ease, almost before Ithen could register the switch.

With an enraged scream, Asher thrust out both hands, sending every ounce of his magic toward Ithen. Scrambling to save his life, Ithen focused on a defensive barrier. This had gone to hell, so he needed to find a way to escape, to find another path toward his goal.

Clearly, Asher was too strong to allow him to live.

*

Present Day

 

STORM STUMBLED FROM the memory into a place of darkness, similar to the abyss but nowhere near as dark or evil. He wasn’t sure where he was, but pain raked along his spine like the mark of a talon, leaving him screaming and grabbing his head as words and images warred with one another.

In an instant, he was thrown from Ithen’s memories into his own. Memories so distant and forgotten that Storm had never seen them.

*

Storm’s Memories: 2014

 

SITTING ON THE floor with Rowan as Yael tried on their fancy-dress hats, Storm flinched as the wind battered the window, a tree branch beating the glass. Storm cocked his head to listen, but screams from downstairs distracted his focus. He looked at Rowan whose eyes widened.

“My father is here,” he whispered, probably worried because he wasn’t supposed to be here. Their fathers had fallen out, and Rowan was banned from visiting. Homeschooled as he was, he didn’t have any other friends and Storm liked playing with him.

He was about to speak when his dad’s voice broke into his mind, creating a crack that resonated through his head, opening a previously locked door. Storm cried out and held his head as the word Run! repeated over and over inside his head.

Yael squeaked and rushed to their feet, spreading their arms wide. Black smoke emanated from every inch of their body until Storm could barely see the rest of the room which became opaque and cloudy within minutes.

Rowan grabbed his arm and tugged until Storm huddled in the corner by the bed, remaining behind Yael’s barrier of smoke.

The door banged open and Storm screamed. Rowan put a hand over Storm’s mouth as Yael trembled but held strong.

Ithen marched into the room, blood trickling from his nose as he stomped around, searching every corner. Storm had never liked the man or how he spoke to people, so he remained in hiding. When Gladys followed him into the room, Storm almost called out to her, trusting the witch like she was family. Then she spoke and his world shattered into uncertainty and confusion.

“This is a disaster,” she snapped, helping Ithen search the room. “You knew only a Tera could find and use the amulet so you went and killed the only two we could control?”

Rowan glanced at Storm and held a finger to his lips. Storm nodded but didn’t understand what was happening. Gladys was saying his parents were dead…killed by Ithen. Why?

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Ithen replied, sounding almost petulant, a word his mum had loved to use whenever Storm was moody and tired. “Asher fought me, and he was stronger. We’re lucky I got out alive,” he said, pausing at a scream from downstairs.

Rowan’s eyes widened, and he mouthed, “My father.”

Instead of being overcome with grief, clarity flowed through Storm. Their parents had been close before these last few months and that scream could only be from Cesa, who must have been so sad that his friends had died. Storm cried for them, but stayed quiet as Yael protected them from the people he had thought he could trust, who were now ravaging his parents’ bedroom.

“I doubt we’d see the amulet even if it was right in front of us,” Ithen grumbled, turning to where Gladys stood by the door. “You said the boy couldn’t leave the house. Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I put a spell over the exits so he couldn’t leave, but he isn’t anywhere to be found.”

Rowan squeezed him tight, and Storm grasped his hand. They were searching for him and an amulet; he couldn’t let them find him, not if they had killed his family.

Ithen left the room, barking demands, but when Gladys followed, she glanced at where Yael stood and sniffed before leaving. A moment later, Yael sagged to the floor and faded into a shadow before disappearing.

“Yael!” Storm reached for them, but nothing remained. He didn’t understand why, where they’d gone or why they’d left.

Rowan grabbed his hand and urged him to stand. They snuck downstairs and froze at the bottom of the steps as Gladys stepped out of the sitting room and pointed at them. She uttered strange words, and Storm felt his mind tremble.

“Storm, we’ve been searching for you.” When she reached out, every instinct told him to run, but he let her hug him and hold him tight. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. A demon tried to force your father into a bond and killed him. Your mother died from the explosion of magic.”

The words were spoken in comfort, but Storm’s brain screamed, Don’t believe her, and the wind howled, Lies! Lies! Run! He didn’t know what to do. A prickle of something raised the hairs on his neck as Gladys drew an image on his back, and in an instant, his doubts were chased away and he felt silly for worrying.

Gladys was so kind, though she’d been sad ever since her son died, and DJ—the nickname the other boys gave him—would probably trade places with him in a heartbeat, to hug his mum again. Storm squeezed her tight and let her lead him toward the door.

“You’ll live with me until you’re old enough to live alone,” Gladys said, wiping away his tears.

Storm wasn’t sure why he was crying but a scream and a shout came from his dad’s study. The door was open, and his dad lay on the floor, empty eyes staring unseeing at Storm, blood seeping from his eyes and mouth. The last tendrils of dark magic floated around him, not sure where to go without their host.

Cesa Copry lay across his prone body, crying out in grief and pain. Though Rowan ran to Cesa, the comfort of his son wasn’t enough. Storm opened his mouth to ask Cesa to care for him so he could be with Rowan but hesitated when the magic surrounding his dad became a hazy figure rising from his body.

Asher Tera, his dad, stood from his body and gazed at Cesa with sad eyes. He bent to kiss his cheek, Cesa shivering in response to the contact he could feel but could never fully understand, then walked from the study toward Storm.

In the background of Storm’s awareness, Ithen and Gladys were making plans, but he couldn’t find the will to care. He stared at his dad as a misty hand lifted to cup his cheek.

“I love you, my little Storm. When you are ready, you will learn the truth, and I hope you are wise enough to not seek revenge. It cannot bring us back to you,” he advised, glancing over to where Storm’s mother stumbled from her body.

“Trust no one,” Asher whispered, bending to look him in the eye. “The only people you can trust are Rowan and Yael. One day Yael will return to you, but they won’t be safe here for some time. You have to be brave while you’re alone.”

Storm nodded his promise and watched his dad glance at Cesa Copry, clearly distraught by the loss of his friends. Veronica walked away, fading into a stream of light that welcomed her.

Once she was gone, his dad kissed Storm’s forehead and tapped his nose. “You won’t understand this now but when you’re older…if you can, save Cesa from the darkness clouding his mind and heart. For Rowan’s sake and yours.”

“For you, daddy,” he said in his mind, knowing his dad couldn’t rest easy in the abyss unless he did this.

Asher nodded but looked sad. “You’re a smart boy. Love deeply, study hard and live well, my little Storm.” Without another word, he faded into the light the way his mum had, after taking a last glance at Cesa before he caught Storm’s eye and disappeared forever.

Following his gaze, Storm didn’t know what else to do but sent some magic to soothe Cesa and Rowan, who sat by his father, crying quietly. When Cesa hugged his son, Storm saw the darkness fade from around him, glad he could do something good in this moment of madness.

*

Present Day

 

RETREATING FROM THE torment of memories, now he had the answers he needed, Storm sagged and slipped away from the traitor. An added kick to Ithen’s side was instinctive, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted Ithen further away or just to hurt him.

He wanted to scream, to run, to forget he’d ever witnessed these memories that revealed so much.

Everyone he’d ever counted on since his parents died, everyone he’d ever trusted since he was left alone in the world, had betrayed him by murdering his parents. The one man he had blamed for everything, the one man he hated more than anyone else, was a victim, just like Storm.

Tainted by Ithen’s magic and manipulations twisting his mind, Cesa was trapped in a cage, locked away from the feelings of love and warmth he had for Storm’s parents, while kept at a distance from his son.

Rowan needed to know the truth Gladys had kept from them, with her twisted dark magic. No wonder she’d aged well and hadn’t handed over her coven to Gregory; she couldn’t risk him finding out what she’d done or what she was capable of. Gregory could be counted on to treat her like a traitor. Thanks to Gladys’s lack of motherly instinct, her detachment from anyone not herself, Gregory could do what needed to be done without sentiment getting in the way.

The tears slipping over his cheeks were a natural reaction to everything he’d seen and now knew, but Storm pushed them away. They wouldn’t help. Lifting his head, he met Yael’s gaze across Ithen’s body, not surprised that they looked shocked.

“I remember nothing of my childhood. It is like a separate life to demons. The way your life and death are separate.” Yael would have mentioned if they remembered their past together, though they must have been terrified to realise there was so much of their life they couldn’t remember.

Gladys must have sensed Yael that night and had either sent them away or known they would run, in case she used her magic against them. She stole them from each other, erasing them from Storm’s mind so he couldn’t remember Yael, while knowing that Yael wouldn’t keep those memories.

What a bitch.

Storm crawled around Ithen’s body to sit next to Yael, taking their hand in his. “I understand now.” He watched the confusion clear as anger took over, an emotion he shared. “This explains why we’re drawn to each other. We were childhood friends. And we’re a team, right? We’ll work together to make this right and bond as we were always meant to,” he said, feeling more deeply than ever that this was their true path. They would be a team, not a master and servant. He could never put shackles on Yael and monitor their every move; that was Ithen’s idea of magic but not Storm’s.

Yael looked pleased, a slow smile forming, which morphed from delighted to coy. “Yes. I think I’d like that.”

Storm didn’t doubt they looked forward to dealing with Ithen and Gladys when the time came. “What will we do about him?”

Yael’s gaze slid over Ithen’s body, pure evil swirling behind their white eyes. “The higher demons might want him. They would find his magic interesting.”

As fitting as punishment may be, Storm wanted Ithen somewhere accessible and safe, in case they needed him later. “How about we stuff him in my shack?” he countered, smiling when Yael looked disappointed. “In case we want to delve into his head again or we need to use him. I can’t go back to the shack. I need to stay somewhere they won’t find me.”

“Rowan.” They spoke at the same time, so Storm didn’t defend the decision. It was the only place he could think of, and his dad had been right the day he died: the only two people in the world he could trust were Yael and Rowan. Just as they had always been by his side, they would need to fight this war together.

He wished he didn’t have to involve Rowan, but logic demanded he open his eyes and cast his own feelings aside because Rowan was already involved. He had been ever since the start when his father was cursed and Ithen stole what relationship they had with a curse.

Now they had to undo the wrongs of the past: Cesa’s curse, his parents’ murders, his failure as the Chosen One, and their broken friendship. Storm had a feeling that the real reason he’d lost the war the first time around was because he hadn’t been at his strongest, and he hadn’t been whole. Without Rowan and Yael, he wasn’t surprised he’d failed to fulfil the prophesy, lost the war and descended into bitterness.

Without them, he wasn’t truly Storm Tera, dark mage and necromancer, the Chosen One worthy of fulfilling the prophecy.