Page 34 of Autumn L.A.W

The entity hissed in frustration. “This vessel fights me. Small bones. Strong will.”

Its gaze sharpened on Cal. “This one is easier.”

Before anyone could react, a ripple of shadow peeled itself from Lioness’s chest. Spirit Lion lunged, but the shadow slid around him.

“No!” Lioness croaked, her voice thin and breaking.

The shadow struck Cal like a knight’s lance. He arched, gasping, knees buckling as the darkness poured into him.

Lioness collapsed.

Slowly, Cal rose. Too still. Too tall. Too calm.

When he opened his eyes, they were Cal’s shape but threaded with black fire.

“Yes,” the entity said using Cal’s mouth. “This is better.”

Rayna swore. Lioness whimpered. Victoria began drawing a containment sigil around him so fast her chalk broke.

Cal inside shouted through clenched teeth, “Don’t…let…me⁠—”

The entity cut him off. It flexed his hands. “A warrior’s frame. A mind untrained in magic. This body will not break.”

Lioness pushed up on shaking elbows. “Leave him! He doesn’t deserve this!”

The entity turned Cal’s head toward her. “You opened the door,” it said. “His body is your gift.”

Rayna stepped between them. “Over my dead, extremely irritated body.”

The entity smiled, but unlike Cal, its smile contained malice.

CHAPTER 9

Cal Monroe stood too still. That was what told Lioness he was already gone.

Not unconscious, but not fighting in any way that showed on the surface. His posture was perfect, balanced like a statue that had never known fatigue. The tremor that had wracked his body moments earlier was gone. The strain in his shoulders had smoothed away, replaced by a terrifying calm. When he lifted his head, his eyes were black. Empty.

Lioness took a step back before she realized she’d moved. Something inside her recoiled, instinct screaming louder than reason. “That’s not you,” she said hoarsely.

Cal’s mouth curved. It was a familiar mouth. She had watched it smile, laugh, curse. She had memorized its shape without meaning to. The expression it wore now did not belong to him.

“You opened the way,” the prisoner said, voice low and resonant, semantics slipping beneath the words like a second language trying to surface. “But you were never meant to hold me.”

The broken obelisk behind them pulsed, hairline cracks glowing faintly as if something was unfinished.

Lioness narrowed her eyes. “Get out of him.”

The thing inside Cal considered her for a long moment. Then he stated, “No.” The simplicity of the refusal landed harder than any threat.

“This body is strong,” the prisoner continued. “Tall. Durable. Quiet inside. A structure meant to bear weight.”

Cal’s hand flexed slowly, as if testing tendons. The movement was wrong. Too smooth. Too deliberate.

“I was imprisoned by a dead king,” it said. “Buried far from my origin. Far from the land that knew my name. I waited while empires rotted. While faith decayed into dust.”

Its gaze locked onto hers. “And then you looked. You and one other.”

Pain detonated behind Lioness’s eyes. “You leave Sahara out of this!”