Chapter Sixteen

Three Days Later

November 15, 2026

 

“THAT MAN IS incompetent,” Yael said, glancing at Kyrie as Rowan helped him slip into a new coat. “I wouldn’t trust him with a pet, never mind a coven of dark mages.”

Storm tried not to smile at the judgement but nodded, trusting Yael. He needed to do something about Auden and his coven soon, but not yet. When the war was over, he would need to place another more experienced mage into the position of leader of the coven, someone who didn’t treat demons like chattel.

Yael and Kyrie had just returned from visiting Auden’s coven, where they’d been gathering information and observing the man’s abilities from a distance. The report wasn’t good but hardly a surprise.

“We’ll deal with that as soon as this prophecy business is sorted,” Storm promised, aware Yael had a personal stake. Neither demon had acted on the obvious mutual attraction, and Storm didn’t know the etiquette on demon relationships well enough to ask. They would either figure it out, or Kyrie would make the first move; the young demon had grown in confidence during the three days he’d spent with Yael.

Right now, they had a more imminent task ahead. One Storm didn’t relish.

“Might I suggest you remain close?” Yael said, drawing his attention from his thoughts.

“Any particular reason?”

Yael shrugged and watched Rowan fuss over Kyrie’s clothing. “By all accounts, your father was an extraordinary dark mage with abilities of some renown. There’s no telling what he may have dealt with during his practising years or what he may have intentionally or accidentally invited into his home. I think you should be prepared for anything.”

Storm nodded, accepting the wisdom of the word the caution. “I trust you, Yael. If you think I need to be careful, I will.”

“Thank you. I appreciate your trust in me,” Yael replied, with a faint smile that was part amusement and part pleasure.

“Nonsense.” Rowan appeared in good spirits and linked his arm through Storm’s. “Next to Storm, you’re the most powerful person in this room,” he insisted, kissing Storm’s cheek with big, innocent eyes. “Besides, this is a huge deal, and we grew up together—whether we can remember or not—so we should do this together.”

Rowan’s support of the fact they were going, despite Yael’s hesitations, meant more than any words could. “You’re adorable,” Storm admitted, not surprised that Rowan blushed and shook his head at the compliment.

“Come on. If we leave now, we can avoid the rain,” he said, glancing back to make sure Kyrie was following them to the front door of the mansion. They had the reassurance of Cesa being at another business meeting which Rowan had given his support for.

“You do remember that’s not a problem, right?” Storm said, leaving the subject of the two demons trailing them from the house for another day. “If I ask, the rain could fall around us but never on us.” He wondered if the chaos of the last few weeks or the revelations they’d unearthed had pushed the knowledge from Rowan’s mind.

Raising a sceptical eyebrow, Rowan led the way along the path to the Tera property by the quickest route. “I’ve seen you get soaked by the rain a million times.”

Resisting the temptation to kiss the adorable pout off his lips, Storm cleared his throat. “Yeah, but…I like the rain. It’s how we communicate,” he confessed, despite the doubtful look Rowan shot him. “If I don’t want to get wet, I won’t.”

“Okay, let’s do that,” Rowan decided, glancing pointedly at Kyrie, bundled into a heavy overcoat. “I do not want to get sick when we have so much to do.”

“Do you get sick?”

With a nonchalant shrug, Rowan replied with a light tone, “No idea, but I don’t want now to be the time I find out.”

“Smart man.” Storm appreciated the attempt to make this easier. Even if there wasn’t a way to forget what they were doing, the fact Rowan cared enough to understand what he was thinking and feeling and wanted to help lighten the load, reminded Storm how special Rowan was.

Who knew an elemental half-witch/half-demon could crack the guards around his heart and show him what true love looked like.

*

STEPPING ONTO TERA property, Storm could feel the earth humming beneath his feet, sending vibrations throughout his body, welcoming him home. The ground embraced his magic, fawning over him while the trees rustled and whispered, “The lost one. Forest child. Stolen son.” The words were like a knife to his heart. The trees didn’t mean to hurt him, but they reminded Storm of everything he’d been running from.

Deep down, he was still a child trying to escape the murder of his family, unaware he was walking straight into the arms of their murderer’s accomplice. He was still hiding from the prophecy that shrouded his every move with expectation and whispers of the great deeds he was made for.

Storm had overcome those fears and found comfort in the truth. He understood what was expected and why, now that he’d lived a life where the prophecy remained unfulfilled. Even then, the atmosphere and pressure that knowledge left him wading through was suffocating as he re-entered the house he’d been born into, the legacy home that should have been his until the day he died. To Storm, it was nothing but a place of nightmares, ghosts and dark whispers from the shadows.

“Are you okay?” Rowan stepped closer and squeezed his clasped hand.

Storm looked at their intertwined fingers and couldn’t remember when they’d slipped naturally from Rowan holding his arm to holding hands. “Yeah. It’s—” He didn’t know how to explain, but the ghosts of the house had crowded in on him the minute he stepped through the door.

The memories from Ithen’s mind played out in stark clarity, showing him where he’d stood when he last spoke to his dad…where his dad’s dead body had lain while Cesa had sobbed and grieved over his lost lover…where his mum had faded into the light and the abyss.

A shiver raked his spine, forcing him to face reality. Rowan stood by his side, where he’d been since Storm fell from the abyss and into his life. Yael was on his other side, offering strength and power, a promise of safety. Kyrie, the young demon, waited patiently beside Yael, ready to walk into this chaos because Storm had broken his bond to Auden. Kyrie was loyal, despite Storm not wanting or expecting repayment. He would never have known of Kyrie’s situation if not for Yael, someone the young demon idolised. Eventually, he might sense demons—higher and lower—and become the true Protector of Demons, but he suspected that would come with time and experience, when he proved he was worthy of the position, perhaps when he saved the demon child that had become Donald.

For now, he had another task in mind.

“We need to find this amulet, which is supposed to react to a Tera descendant, so how do we do this?” Storm asked, glancing at the group in hope of a logical solution.

Yael gestured to the study door, still standing open from the day his dad had died. Even from here, Storm could see blood stains still on the carpet. Gladys’s promise to have the place cleaned after the murder and maintained until he was ready to return had clearly been a lie. “I believe someone is waiting for you in the study.”

Frowning at the fact they’d gone enigmatic, Storm squared his shoulders and released Rowan’s hand.

A few deep breaths steadied his racing heart, a wipe against his jeans helped rid his sweaty-palm problem, and then he walked into the room. He only stopped after stepping over the blood stains that marked the place his dad had died, not wanting to look at them or acknowledge the memories of his dad lying there.

A breeze swept through the room, whispering words that niggled at Storm’s brain.

Run!

…a Tera is the only one who can see the amulet.

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.

Storm remembered the words from Ithen’s memory of the night his parents were killed, the night his life changed. What did they mean and why was the wind repeating them? What purpose did they have? The last one wasn’t even about him but about Rowan.

Storm looked out the room and found Rowan standing in the doorway, one hand clutching the wooden frame, the other pressed to his heart.

Rowan licked his lips. “Turn around, Storm. There’s…by your dad’s desk.”

Storm didn’t want to turn around, but he didn’t have the luxury to refuse. He was the Dark One: the one destined to control and guide all magic, the one the demons counted on to protect them, to return their stolen child and restore balance to the magical world. If he couldn’t turn around, he was no good to any of them.

Closing his eyes, he took a steadying breath and faced the mahogany desk by the right side of the room. He opened his eyes, tears welling at the thought of what might be there, what couldn’t be there but what he knew with everything in him was there.

“Hello, son.”