Bethan’s eyes widened.

‘It’s not just my job. You’re my friend now, and I care about you too much to risk anything happening to you.’

Perhaps, because of Tharin, she felt uncomfortable with this confession; Kellan was the only man in her life besides her father who was truly in her corner, the only one to defend her.

Initially, her brain analysed the situation and signalled Kellan was dangerous and untrustworthy, but it seemed he was the only one she could trust.

Kellan was right. He was not just a job. He was a friend.

A true friend.

She squeezed his hand. ‘We’re okay, Kellan.’

Relief washed over him, and he smiled. It was soft but enough to make her stomach jump.

‘Tomorrow, we should ask Saskia if we can have access to the Antiphonus.’

Kellan nodded. His brows furrowed deep in thought. His mouth agape as if he was about to say something but quickly decided against it.

‘Do you think some of Dana’s research is missing?’ he finally asked.

‘I was the one who cleaned her apartment out; there was nothing else to do with the grimoire.’

‘Do you still have access to that apartment? Maybe you missed something.’

She shook her head. ‘There is no way I would’ve left something like that; besides, new tenants are living there now.’

His face dropped, and he shifted enough that their thighs touched. Bethan clamped hers tighter so they wouldn’t anymore. She pulled her hand away, and his gaze faltered.

‘It’s just that Lenovik told you he gave Dana papers, and they aren’t with the rest of her stuff. Perhaps his papers are what lead her to the Etruscans.’

Bethan grimaced. ‘Whatever Lenovik had to say, it would be in the Antiphonus. We’ll find out tomorrow.’

Something else plagued Kellan. She could see his brain reeling over something in contemplation.

Bethan yawned. Her eyelids grew heavier; it didn’t mix well with the dizziness.

‘Bethan,’ Kellan’s said, his voice as soft as his skin, ‘Julius mentioned an illness.’

She took a deep breath.

‘After Dana died, my entire family got sick; we were in the hospital for days. I’m not sure what overcame us, but a healer told me it was rare, but some witches go through it when they experience grief. I think that illness is what caused me to lose my memories. And my powers. Elnora’s mother used to be the best healer in Krete. She made this potion that has been passed down in her family. She gave it to us, and my parents got their magic back within the first week. But not me.’

His eyes darkened, looking almost sceptical.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘The illness?’ he muttered. ‘What did it do to you?’

‘It felt like pure pain. My legs kept buckling; my brain felt like liquid inside my head. I couldn’t move. Elnora and Agatha took turns spoon-feeding me. It was so mortifying.’

He chuckled darkly.

‘It was really generous of the Rennigans to do that for you.’