Chapter 16: Delphine

I wasn’t looking for trouble when I left the annex.

The castle had shifted again overnight, opening a curved hallway that led out through a corridor I didn’t recognize—stone arches lined with old tapestries and gilded sconces I was sure hadn’t been lit in years. The space had a quiet reverence to it, like a memory held too tightly.

The air was heavier here. Magic saturated the walls. Not wild or hostile. Just... focused. Like the castle was paying very close attention.

I rounded the far corner of the hall and nearly walked straight into Cassian.

He was waiting—leaning against the stone column beside a tall window, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who always felt like a blade waiting to strike. His posture was casual, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Miss Ashwood,” he drawled, pushing off the wall. “Funny how we keep running into each other.”

“Funny,” I echoed dryly, not slowing. “Or suspicious.”

He fell into step beside me. “I prefer serendipitous.”

“I prefer being left alone.”

“And yet,” he said, voice smooth as ever, “the castle seems to have other plans.”

That stopped me.

I turned to face him fully. “What do you know about that?”

Cassian’s smile sharpened. “Only what everyone else is beginning to notice. Doors opening that haven’t moved in decades. Hallways rearranging. Anchors shifting. Wards pulsing brighter than they should. All since your arrival.”

“You think that’s my fault?” I asked.

“I think the castle is responding to you,” he said. “And you’ve made no secret of your talent for drawing attention. Magical and otherwise.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Say what you’re really thinking, Cassian. Stop circling it.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I think you’re dangerous. And I think the Council knew you would be.”

The words landed like a cold wind in my chest.

“I wasn’t sent here with an agenda,” I said, sharper than I meant to. “They gave me a contract. Fix the failing wards. Nothing more.”

Cassian tilted his head slightly. “Did they tell you why the last Ashwood never finished the job?”

I said nothing.

“Of course they didn’t,” he continued. “They sent you with just enough knowledge to walk into the fire—and none of the tools to understand what’s burning.”

“I’m figuring it out,” I said quietly.

His gaze turned calculating. “Then maybe it’s time you ask yourself which side you’re on.”

“That’s a threat,” I said.

“It’s advice,” he replied. “Right now, you’re standing at the center of something very old and very powerful. And power like that doesn’t offer itself freely.”

“It hasn’t offered anything,” I said.

“Hasn’t it?” His eyes flicked toward the hall behind me. “The castle shifts when you move. Wards pulse when you’re nearby. And I’ve seen the way Lord Valemont looks at you. You’re not just a contractor anymore. You’re a liability—or an opportunity.”

I didn’t like the way he said it. Like I was a lever someone could pull, if they just found the right angle.

“And what do you want from me?” I asked.

Cassian stepped closer.

“To survive,” he said. “Which I won’t, if this place breaks open again. So if you're going to be the epicenter of this storm, I’d rather be standing beside you than buried underneath you.”

I stared at him, trying to read what was real behind that politician’s grin. Was this an alliance? A warning? Or just more of his constant maneuvering?

Before I could respond, the light in the hallway shifted.

The sconces flared—abruptly, violently—casting long shadows that snapped across the floor. A low rumble echoed through the stone.

Cassian took a step back, immediately on edge.

The wall behind me pulsed with ward lines I hadn’t drawn.

The castle was listening.

And it didn’t like him.

“You should go,” I said, barely above a whisper. “Before it decides you’re a threat.”

Cassian glanced over his shoulder, wariness flickering in his eyes. “It’s already decided.”

He vanished a second later, disappearing into the corridor without another word.

The air settled slowly.

The sconces dimmed.

But the wall beside me still hummed, faintly alive.

I placed a hand against the stone, trying to understand what I was feeling.

The magic wasn’t angry.

It was protective.

Territorial.

The castle wasn’t just responding anymore—it was guarding me.

And that terrified me more than anything Cassian could’ve said.

Because it wasn’t just that the castle wanted me here.

It didn’t want to share.