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Epilogue
Gavin tried to pretend it was any other morning. Once he’d climbed out of bed after the truly spectacular orgasm Atlas had given him, he showered, ate a small breakfast—his stomach was too knotted for anything else—and sat for meditation with Violet.
Meditation was one of the many things Violet and Fred had considered part of his Magic 101 lessons. They’d assured him it would help him learn control once the magic in his blood was unleashed.
He hoped so.
Ever since the night Charlotte was kidnapped and he’d seen Atlas, Lark, and Pike use their power, vivid dreams had plagued him. In the dreams, he was the mage and the searing thrill of magic flowing through him felt more like a drug than a weapon. Sometimes the dreams left him feeling as sated as an orgasm, and sometimes they wound him up so tight the only thing that helped was putting on his running shoes and pounding the pavement for miles.
Atlas usually joined him on mornings like that. He didn’t try to set the pace—keeping a couple strides behind Gavin and letting him run however he needed to.
He took a slow breath, trying to empty his mind and center himself. Still, it plagued him. When the power was real and thrumming beneath his skin like blood in his veins, how would he outrun it then?
“Are you ready, Gavin?” Violet appeared in front of him, standing in a white slip dress with the ends of her purple hair dragging the floor.
He still sat on his meditation cushion, legs crossed and hands resting loosely on his knees. Looking up, he met Violet’s gaze. “I’m ready.”
She held out a hand. He took it, letting her pull him up off the floor. Once he was standing, she didn’t let go. Instead, she led him down the hall to the round room with all the doors. He should have known that’s where the ritual would take place, but the logistics of it hadn’t really been on his mind—only the outcome.
Inside, the stone firepit in the middle of the room was already lit. Pike, Lark, and Atlas stood on three sides of it, facing the fire. Violet walked Gavin forward, pulling them to a stop on the empty side. She squeezed his hand once and let go.
Looking up, Gavin found Atlas staring back at him. Atlas shot him a little smile and a wink. Lark and Pike both offered him nods when he looked their way.
“Gavin,” Violet said, voice somehow deeper than he’d ever heard it. “Are you ready to begin?”
He swallowed hard, stealing himself. They hadn’t told him the exact ritual steps, only that it was easy and the only thing he’d really have to do is accept the power that already lived within him. “I’m ready.”
Across the pit from him, Atlas moved to stand beside Lark. At the same time, Violet went to the opposite side to stand beside Pike, leaving Gavin on his own and an empty space directly across from him.
For a moment, nothing happened. The fire spit sparks up into the air. The room beyond their circle was dim, the doors lining the walls barely visible beyond the fire’s reach despite how early in the day it was.
The door directly in front of Gavin on the opposite side of the room cracked open. No light shone beyond it. A figure stepped out of the darkness. He was tall and well dressed in a charcoal three-piece suit. He had black hair, black eyes, and deeply tanned skin. His dark eyes reflected the fire’s glow, growing brighter with every step he took.
Every hair on Gavin’s body stood on end. Bone deep fear ate at his stomach, making his insides twist and heave, screaming at him to run. But he couldn’t run. Because there was only one person this could be. Kerak, the king of demons, paused only a second on the far side of the fire before he simply stepped up into it, walking through the flames as simply as he’d walked across the floor.
“Hello, Gavin,” Kerak said as he stepped back down onto the floor, not a single singe mark on him.
“Hello,” he stammered, glancing at the others. “I’m not sure what to call you.”
One side of Kerak’s mouth lifted. “You can call me Kerak. We are family after all.”
Gavin’s confusion must have shown on his face because Kerak continued, “The power living in your blood—just like every mage’s power—comes from a demon somewhere in the limbs of your family tree. In your case—” Kerak reached out and pressed a hand flat against Gavin’s chest. “—that demon was me.”
Three sharp inhales echoed somewhere in the room behind Kerak, but Gavin couldn’t look away from the demon in front of him. His…ancestor? “Who?” Gavin whispered, afraid his voice would shake if he spoke any louder.
Kerak took a deep breath and lifted his hand. “Put about six greats in front of grandfather, I think.” Dark eyes Gavin now realized contained their own dancing flames, not a mere reflection, bored into his. “You have her eyes.” Kerak’s gaze traveled over the rest of Gavin. “She was blonde and fair as well. Some genes remain stronger than others throughout the years. Aside from my son, you’re the first to carry power in your blood.”
Gavin swallowed. He didn’t really have any blood relatives to speak of. None he was close to anyway. Charlotte was his family now. The family he’d chosen. “Is she?—”
Kerak shook his head. “No. She was fully human and lived a human life. We were…a passing fancy to each other, although we remained close until she died. I met my mate some hundred or so years later.”
Not knowing what to say to that, Gavin kept silent.
With a small nod, Kerak brought them back to the situation at hand. “Let us complete the ritual. Then, if you’d like, we can discuss your heritage in more detail.”
It was Gavin’s turn to nod. “I would like that, I think.”
A small smile pulled at Kerak’s lips. “So would I. Now, Gavin Radcliffe, are you prepared to accept the blood power living within you?”
