Chapter 17: Theron

She wasn’t hurt.

That was the first thing Valesa said when she entered my study—before the door had even closed, before I could look up from the deteriorating ward map splayed across the table.

My hands stilled. “What happened?”

“She was seen in the eastern corridor this morning,” Valesa said. “Cassian intercepted her.”

That sent heat crawling up the back of my neck.

“And?” I asked, though I already knew I wouldn’t like the answer.

“He confronted her,” she said. “Cornered her, by some accounts. She held her ground. He made threats—cleverly worded ones, but threats all the same.”

“And he walked away?” I asked, already skeptical.

Valesa met my eyes. “No. He was forced to leave. The castle turned on him.”

I rose from the table, heart slamming once against my ribs.

“What do you mean ‘turned’?”

“The sconces in the corridor lit themselves—overheated,” she said. “The walls glowed with old sigils. The hallway distorted slightly. Enough to disorient. He backed off before it got worse.”

“She didn’t call for it?” I asked.

Valesa shook her head. “She didn’t need to.”

I turned away, moving to the tall windows that overlooked the main courtyard. Mist coiled along the stones below. The castle had always been temperamental, but never independent. Not like this. It shouldn’t be acting on its own. It shouldn’t be choosing.

And yet, it had.

It had protected her.

Not just responded to her presence—but intervened. Reacted. Defended.

I closed my eyes and leaned my hand against the cold glass.

This was what I had feared.

Delphine wasn’t just touching the magic here. She was becoming part of it. And the castle, in turn, was binding itself to her—not just magically, but instinctively.

Emotionally.

The old seals weren’t just decaying. They were yielding.

And I wasn’t sure if the magic recognized her as a savior or a replacement.

“Cassian won’t let this go,” Valesa said softly behind me. “He’ll go to the Council if he believes she’s compromised the castle’s balance.”

“She hasn’t compromised it,” I said. “She is the balance now.”

Valesa didn’t argue.

I pushed away from the window, pacing across the room, adrenaline scraping beneath my skin. “I should’ve stopped her sooner. Sent her away. Broken the contract. Anything.”

“You didn’t,” Valesa said.

I stopped walking. “No.”

“Because you knew it was already too late,” she added. “The moment she walked through the gates.”

I thought of her eyes, lit with challenge. Her hands, steady over crumbling ward lines. Her voice when she told me I couldn’t make choices for her.

The truth settled low in my chest, heavy and unrelenting.

I didn’t want her gone.

I wanted her safe.

But not removed.

Not away from me.

The castle knew. And it was reacting to that desire in real time—adapting itself, protecting what I couldn’t, doing what I had restrained myself from doing.

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“In the garden,” Valesa said. “Alone, I think.”

That didn’t surprise me. When her mind ran too loud, she liked open air.

I didn’t need to ask whether the castle had cleared the path for her.

I already knew it had.

-

I found her beneath the oldest willow tree in the garden, sitting cross-legged in the grass, ward stones arrayed in a rough circle beside her. Her cloak had slipped from one shoulder, her hair loose. She looked like she belonged there—not as a visitor, but as someone the land had grown around.

She didn’t look up as I approached.

“I heard what happened,” I said, stopping a few feet away.

“Which part?” she asked, voice even. “That Cassian cornered me or that the castle nearly singed his eyebrows off?”

I hesitated. “Both.”

She finally turned to look at me. “Did you send it after him?”

“No.”

“Would you have?”

“I wanted to.”

She studied me for a long moment. Then, softer, “But you didn’t.”

“I’ve been trying not to let this place make decisions for me,” I said. “It’s harder than I remember.”

Delphine stood, brushing dirt from her hands. “It’s not your place anymore. Not entirely.”

I nodded once. “I know.”

The words left a hollow ache in my chest.

She stepped closer. “You don’t have to protect me from it.”

“I’m not sure I can anymore,” I admitted.

Her gaze searched mine, no longer guarded. “So what now?”

I stepped into the last space between us.

“I stop pretending I don’t want to protect you,” I said. “And you stop pretending you don’t scare the hell out of me.”

A breath passed between us, shallow and weighted.

She tilted her head slightly. “Do I?”

“More than the vault ever did.”

I reached for her, slowly—one hand brushing the edge of her jaw, waiting for her to pull away.

She didn’t.

And this time, I didn’t stop myself.