“Do you think it is safe?” I asked.

“The lake or your plan?”

“I suppose I wonder about both.”

He tipped my head back. “I will not let you go to Galat without an escort.”

“I did not expect to go without you,” I said.

He seemed relieved, and I guessed that he had anticipated an argument, but I did not wish to do this without Adrian near, even though I would have Ana and Violeta.

“As far as your plan, are there consequences if it goes wrong?”

“It cannot really go wrong. It can just fail,” I said, especially if we did not have enough strength between the three of us to call Ravena’s magic to us. “But…if it goes right…then it is possible I will have the ability to control the mist, possibly perhaps also the blood plague.”

Though, it was hard to say how the magic would work once it was contained.

Despite this, the thought still thrilled me, especially given Adrian’s words the night before.

There is no one else here to protect you.

If I had Ravena’s magic and learned how to shift with only a thought, I would never need protection again. I wanted that, desperately.

Adrian was quiet for a moment, and then he brushed his thumb over my cheek, pressing into me, still wedged between my thighs.

“I want that for you too,” he said.

I met his gaze, and before I could confront him about listening to my thoughts, his mouth closed over mine once again.

This time, I did not stop him.

Eighteen

Isolde

I could not remember a time as Yesenia that I felt uncertain about a spell, but I felt uncertain about this one, though we had done so much to prepare over the last two days. We had meditated, drawn warm energy into our bodies as we chanted, matching our words and cadence like a well-rehearsed song. The more we practiced, the more hopeful and confident Violeta and Ana grew.

On a technical level, we were ready, but the closer we came to nightfall, the more I felt like something was wrong. I did not share my feelings because I could not pinpoint why I felt this way. Perhaps it was only anxiety, but the dread inside me only deepened as the sun began to set.

I had just begun lacing my boots when Adrian entered my chamber.

He was dressed in black, his overcoat threaded through with gold, and he had tied his hair at the nape of his neck. The angles of his face were harsh in the warm light. His serious expression only added to my turmoil.

Perhaps I was just too desperate for this to work.

Adrian knelt and took over lacing my boots, his fingers working fast.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Frantic, I thought.

“What if this doesn’t work?” I asked.