Page 83 of Magic in My Bones
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head, the weight of the chain suddenly heavier in my grip. “It just... happened. I felt something, like it was pulling me in.”
Dorian’s eyes softened, but the concern didn’t leave his face. “That’s not how this should work,” he said, his voice quiet, but filled with wonder. “Tell me everything.”
I hesitated. It was one thing to tell him there was a spirit that needed our help, but the rest? Dorian wouldn’t understand. How could he? He’d never known what it was like to feel uncomfortable in his own skin like I did.
The spirit’s words echoed in my head, promising something I’d never dared to hope for. The body I was meant to have. The power to be seen for who I really was. It was tempting, too tempting to ignore. But I couldn’t tell Dorian about that. It felt... wrong. I couldn’t ask him to understand a thing he couldn’t possibly relate to.
Instead, I clutched the chain tighter, my voice steadying as I met his gaze. “I saw a spirit,” I said, keeping my words simple, my voice tight with something that felt like both resolve and fear. “It’s trapped inside the chain, waiting to be freed.”
Dorian’s brow furrowed as he processed this new information. “A spirit? Inside the chain?” He shook his head, his disbelief written clearly on his face. “The chain is a soul transfer device, soI suppose it’s possible, but… There’s no telling what sort of spirit we’re dealing with. We must be careful.”
I nodded, but deep down, I already knew. It wasn’t just about freeing the spirit. There was something more. Something thatfeltright, even though the consequences were unclear.
“I know,” I said quietly. “But it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels like... like I’m supposed to help it.”
Dorian studied me, his gaze searching my face, as though he were trying to read the depths of my mind. For a moment, the weight of his concern felt like it might break through my resolve. But then his expression softened, and he nodded, though the worry never fully left his eyes.
“All right,” he said quietly. “But we do this carefully. No matter what, you’re not doing this alone. We’ll figure it out together.”
I met his gaze, feeling a flicker of warmth in my chest at his words. It wasn’t everything I needed to hear, but it was something. “Thanks,” I said, my voice steadier than before. “But... I think I need to go to the old academy to free it.”
“Well,” Dorian said, smoothing his hands over his shirt, “luckily, we were planning to head there anyway to put a stop to this business with Alistair. I see no reason we can’t just… take the chain along and free the spirit while we’re there.”
I nodded, a sense of quiet determination settling over me. There was something inevitable about this, something inescapable. I didn’t fully understand what was at play, but I was certain the old academy held the answers.
“Saturday morning, then,” Dorian continued, his voice firm. “We’ll go to the old academy first thing. We’ll take the chain with us, figure out how to free the spirit, and stop Alistair. The sooner, the better.”
I glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Sounds like a plan.”
Dorian pulled me closer, and I let myself sink into his embrace. His cardigan was soft against my cheek, worn in all the right places from years of late nights spent grading papers and researching obscure necromantic texts. He smelled like home, like safety and possibility, all wrapped up in one person.
“Just promise me you'll be careful,” he murmured into my hair. His voice carried that particular tone of worry he seemed to reserve just for me, the one that made my heart ache in the best possible way.
“I promise,” I said softly, even as guilt gnawed at my insides. I wasn't lying, not exactly. The chain's promises sang through my blood like a siren's call, but Dorian's arms around me offered their own kind of magic. One spoke of instant transformation, of finally being seen as I truly was. The other promised patient love and acceptance of my journey exactly as it unfolded. I wasn't sure which path terrified me more: the quick solution the spirit offered, or the slower, harder road of becoming myself one day at a time.
The chain hung heavy in my pocket, its presence a constant reminder of the spirit's promises. But Dorian's arms around me were real and solid, offering their own kind of magic. One that didn't require bargains or ancient artifacts. Just trust, and time, and the courage to be honest.
I wasn't sure which scared me more.
29
Teach Me
Dorian
Several days had passedsince Ren inadvertently activated the Chain of Echoes, and the tension between us had only grown heavier with each one. While Ren still came to spend time with me every afternoon, he’d been strangely distant since then. A part of me wondered if perhaps we’d taken things too fast, especially since we hadn’t been intimate since the last time. I missed holding him close, missed loving him, missed pleasuring him, but I wouldn’t push him to do more than he was ready for.
It was Friday night now, the end of the week bringing some semblance of calm, but I could feel the weight of everything looming over us. I’d spent the evening preparing Ren’s favorite meal, a hearty vegan stew with smoked tempeh and root vegetables, but he’d barely touched his dinner.
The kitchen was warm and inviting, its ancient copper pots gleaming in the amber light of enchanted lanterns. The rich aroma of herbs and roasted vegetables mingled with the musty scent of grimoires stacked on the weathered oak shelves, theirleather spines cracked with age. Steam rose from the pot on the stove, fogging the window that looked out onto the herb garden where protective crystals gleamed in the twilight. Bones dozed in his favorite spot by the hearth, his skeletal form oddly comforting against the backdrop of dancing shadows cast by the fire.
Ren sat at the kitchen island, absently stirring his glass of iced tea, his eyes distant. He wasn’t looking at me, not really. His attention was on the food, the utensils, the table, but not on me. Not on us.
I took in a quiet breath and leaned against the counter, the smooth wood warm beneath my palms. The kitchen herbs hanging from the ceiling swayed gently in the evening breeze from the open window.
“Everything all right?” I asked. “The resonance from tomorrow's ritual isn't affecting you, is it?”
Ren didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lifted to mine, but it was a look that didn’t quite meet my eyes. It was like he was there, but not fully present. His shoulders were tight, his body stiff, and I could tell he was somewhere else in his mind. Somewhere far away.
