[A Dark Alley]
The place was hidden for a reason.
Tucked between abandoned buildings at the edge of the old quarter, the shop looked like nothing more than a forgotten relic with dusty windows and a flickering sign.
It was the kind of place people passed without ever really seeing but Rogan slipped inside anyway.
The air changed the mont the door shut behind him.
Thick with herbs, smoke and sothing older like ancient magic layered so deeply into the walls that it humd faintly beneath his skin.
Shelves lined the narrow space cluttered with jars, vials, dried roots and symbols etched into glass.
A woman stood behind the counter, her dark hair braided loosely down her back as she ground sothing with slow, deliberate movents.
"You are late," she said without looking up.
Rogan exhaled. "I needed to be sure I wasn’t followed."
She snorted softly. "If they were looking for you, you wouldn’t have made it past the alley."
Only then did she glance up.
Her eyes were sharp, knowing, far too perceptive for comfort.
"Sit," she said. "You don’t co here unless sothing’s wrong."
Rogan did as told. He sat, resting his elbows on the worn wooden counter.
For a mont, he said nothing and the silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.
Then he finally spoke.
"She went into Blackthorn territory."
The woman’s hands stilled and she set the mortar down slowly.
"When?" she asked.
"This morning."
Her jaw tightened. "And ca back alive."
"Yes."
"That’s not reassuring."
"It gets worse," Rogan rubbed a hand over his face,frustrated. "She accepted a job at Blackthorn Enterprises."
That earned him a sharp look.
"And you let her?" the woman raised her brows.
"I didn’t know," he snapped quietly. "She didn’t tell ."
The woman sighed and leaned back against the shelves. "You always knew this day would co, Rogan."
"No, Sera," Rogan said. "I always knew it might but that’s different."
Her gaze softened just a fraction. "You can’t hide the truth from her forever."
"I am not trying to," he replied. "But I am trying to buy ti."
"Ti for what?"
"For things to settle," he said. "For whatever’s been suppressed for decades to stay buried."
Seraphina studied him carefully. "And why do you think it’s resurfacing?"
He nodded once. "I can feel it. The sa pressure I felt years ago, I can feel the sa wrongness in the air."
Silence fell between them again, long and heavy.
"You should have told her," Seraphina said quietly, adjusting her glasses. "You should have done it the mont she turned eighteen."
"Not now," Rogan replied imdiately. "She is not ready."
"You don’t get to decide when fate catches up."
He clenched his jaw. "I decide when she is safe."
Seraphina sighed and helplessly shook her head. "I know you are very protective when it cos to Lyra but being protective doesn’t an you can fight with fate."
Rogan kept quiet for a while before stating the purpose of his urgent visit. "I need sothing stronger."
Her brows knit together. "Stronger than what I have been giving her?"
"Yes."
"A more potent suppression," she said slowly. "The one she is taking now is already strong, very strong. A stronger potion cos with grave danger."
"So is leaving her exposed."
The woman turned away, pacing the narrow space. "You know the problem, Rogan. My spells and potions are holding but barely."
Rogan’s chest tightened.
"With ti," she continued, "they will weaken. Not because I am failing but because she is growing. Her powers will not stay dormant for a very long ti. It’s already pushing back."
Rogan closed his eyes briefly.
"Then help ," he pleaded. "Please."
She stopped in front of him, studying his face.
"You are asking to delay the inevitable," she said. "Not prevent it."
"I know."
After a long mont, she nodded. "I will brew sothing stronger but it will only be a temporary anchor."
Rogan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
"But hear clearly," she added, her voice firm. "This will not last and every ti we force her power down, the backlash will be worse when it surfaces."
Rogan stood. "I will take that risk."
She shook her head. "You shouldn’t."
He paused at the door.
Before he could leave, she spoke again.
"The sooner Lyra knows the truth," she said quietly, "the better chance she has of surviving it."
Rogan didn’t turn around.
"Keeping her in the dark won’t protect her," the Seraphina continued. "It will only make her more vulnerable."
His hand tightened around the door handle.
"I will tell her when the ti is right." Before he left, he said, "I will be back in an hour."
As Seraphina watched him go, worry shadowed her eyes because the truth had a way of surfacing with or without permission.
And Lyra Hale was already standing too close to the fire.
....
Reviews
All reviews (0)