Page 167 of Smoke, Mirrors, & Misdemeanours

They turned to look.

Starlight was still standing—but only just. Hairline fractures traced the stone façade like spiderwebs. Window frames had splintered, shutters hanging askew. Whole patches of plaster had flaked away, revealing brickwork gone soft with age. The roof sagged in places that once held steady. The steadiness it had worn like a mask was stripped away, gone.

In its place stood the truth: an old, tired building that had served long past its time.

Ark was the first to speak. “She held on just long enough.”

Cassia nodded slowly. Her hand rose to the amulet at her chest, still pulsing steadily.

“She did,” she whispered. “And now it’s our turn to carry her.”

On their way back to the new Starlight mansion, it began to rain. Cassia sat curled in the passenger seat, her coat drawn tight around her. The amulet at her throat was a strange yet calming presence, pulsing gently—proof that the entity was still with her. That it had chosen to follow her.

Ark drove one-handed, his other resting near his thigh, fingers twitching with a tremor that hadn’t yet subsided. She could feel the way his body ached, even in the quiet. The pain hadn’t fully receded after what the entity’s magic had done, but he hadn’t complained. Not that he ever would.

“I sent a message to Caius and Rhodes,” he said, his voice a low rumble against the drum of rain on the roof. “They’re on their way to Halewick Mansion now. They’ll be in position to support the transition.”

He didn’t look at her, his eyes on the slick road ahead, but the meaning was clear. Support meant wards, shields, and a contained magical perimeter. If the entity’s release turned volatile, they wouldn’t face it alone.

The rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers filled the car. Ark broke the quiet again, his voice low beneath the rain. “You know, for a moment there, I thought it was going to scatter me into dust.”

Cassia’s head turned sharply. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.” He glanced at her, his ancient, gold-coin eyes softened by fatigue. “I’ve faced many magical entities in my work, but I’ve rarely encountered anything like it.” He flexed his fingers on the wheel. “It wasn’t evil. But it was powerful.”

“It was scared,” Cassia said, her hand going to the amulet. Warm against her skin. “It was alone, and we were asking it to trust us with its very essence. That’s not a small thing.”

“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t.”

He was quiet for a moment, navigating a turn onto the quieter road leading home. “You were magnificent.”

The simple statement, delivered so gravely, made her breath catch. “I was terrified too.”

“That’s what made it magnificent.” He reached across the console, not taking his eyes off the road, and found her hand. His palm was warm, his grip firm, but a tremor still ran through his fingers. She laced her fingers through his, careful not to squeeze too tightly.

They drove in silence for a block, the rain painting the world in blurred streaks of light. Then Cassia spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “What I said down there . . . in the basement . . .”

Ark’s thumb stroked the back of her hand. “I know.”

“I meant it,” she said, turning to look at his profile, needing him to understand. “Every word. I wasn’t just saying it for the magic.”

He pulled the car through the wrought iron gates and up the gravel drive of the Halewick mansion, coming to a stop before the front steps. Two other cars were parked in the driveway. Ark turned off the engine, and the world shrank to the sound of rain pattering on the roof.

In the quiet, he turned to her fully, his expression open and unguarded. The weariness was still there, but beneath it, a profound, steady warmth.

“I know you meant it,” he said softly. “And I meant what I let you say for me.” His thumb traced her knuckles. “I love you, Aura Cassia. In case that wasn’t clear.”

The words, spoken in the stillness, settled into her very soul. She leaned across the console, her free hand coming up to cradle the side of his face, her thumb gently tracing the line of his cheekbone. He met her halfway, slow and deliberate, mindful of his injuries.

The kiss was not frantic or desperate. It was soft. A seal on the promise made in the dark. A gentle claiming amid the patter of rain. When they parted, they rested their foreheads together, breathing the same air.

“Ready for the next step?” he murmured.

Cassia looked at their new home, then down at the amulet pulsing gently at her throat, and finally at the demon beside her—weary, injured, and wholly hers.

She squeezed his hand. “Yes.”

They stepped out into the rain together. The front door opened before they reached it. Inside, the smell of wood dust and varnish mingled with something sharper: active magic. Rhodes and Caius had arrived, but they’d kept the lights off. The grand foyer was lit only by moonlight and the soft, phosphorescent glow of sigils painted across the dark floorboards.