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At least the physical pain is over, Selene says as I'm groaning on my bed, limper than an overcooked noodle.

"It isn't over. I'm still dying."

You'll be fine. This is why you should have kept up with your exercise. Even a few days off and you're already back to being out of shape.

"Must be nice to be a dog. You never get sore."

That's because I don't sit around like a couch potato.

Harsh.

But true.

Sliding off my bed in the most dramatically sore fashion I can muster, I ignore Selene's snort and tremble-walk the entire length of the room to the closet where I set the magic book.

Mrs. Elkins goes ho today, right?

"Right. They're driving her to Cedarwood. Lucas sent scouts to make sure she gets there okay."

"Enforcers," Marcus corrects from his corner.

He doesn't offer to help get what I want, but he's quick to make sure I'm calling his comrades by the right title. Giving him a sour look, I and, "Enforcers."

Grabbing the book off the top shelf, I decide to sit on the floor in front of the closet, not really wanting to walk on sore legs all the way to the bed. My muscles protest even this, quivering more than a leaf in the wind.

Look at you, taking the lazy way out, Selene mocks, her voice echoing in my mind with a teasing lilt.

"I'm not being lazy," I retort, settling cross-legged on the plush carpet. "I'm being efficient. Why waste energy when I can just sit here?"

Selene snorts, her furry head shaking in amusent. Don't co crying to when your butt goes numb.

Deliberately tamping down on the urge to stick my tongue out at her like a child, I turn my attention to the magical to in my lap.

The ornate silver clasp is cool to touch, almost unnaturally so, and I suppress a shiver.

With a soft click, it releases, and I carefully open the book. Once again, I'm t with a sea of blank pages.

Frowning, I thumb through the pages. It doesn't make sense. It has to be so kind of magical lock to keep its contents secure, but how is soone without the knowledge supposed to open it?

Learning it from a ntor, of course.

Well, yeah. But I don't have one, so that doesn't help at all.

As I flip through the pages, my fingertips start to tingle, a sensation that's almost familiar. It's like a gentle current of electricity dancing across my skin, warm and inviting. I pause, staring at my hand, trying to figure out why it's triggering so sort of mory buried deep in my subconscious.

It feels like being gently shocked, doesn't it? Like a low level of a shock collar.

I have no idea how she knows anything about shock collars.

Shaking my head, I mutter, "No, it's more than that. It's like..." I trail off, struggling to put the feeling into words.

The tingling intensifies, spreading up my arm and into my chest. My heart beats faster, and I feel a strange pull, as if the book is drawing in. I close my eyes, letting the sensation wash over , trying to make sense of it.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, a mory flashes through my mind. "Selene, where's that necklace?"

Maybe the suitcase? Or the dresser? She sounds hesitant, and I block out the pain and exhaustion in my legs as I stumble around looking for it.

It takes only a few minutes before I'm back at the book, necklace in hand. "At the apartnt, I touched this once, and it had this sa feeling on my fingers. I was shocked. I didn't know that it was magic at the ti."

When it activated. Selene sounds excited, then dubious. But unlike then, there's no scent of activation.

"Is there a scent?"

There was then, is her answer.

So, she doesn't know.

I don't spend that much ti around magicians, Ava.

"Sorry, sorry."

The athyst pendant gleams in the light, its silver chain cool against my fingertips, much like the clasp holding the book closed.

And yet there's warmth emanating from its pages.

It's an odd sensation, like it's alive, pulsing with an energy I can't quite understand.

Selene watches intently, her blue eyes fixed on the necklace. What are you thinking?

"I'm thinking that I have to try."

Taking a deep breath, I place the pendant on the blank page. For a mont, the world seems to freeze. The air grows heavy, thick with anticipation. Even the dust motes hanging in the sunbeams streaming through the window appear suspended, as if ti itself is holding its breath.

I wait, my pulse pounding in my ears. One second. Two. Three.

And…

Nothing.

Disappointnt threatens to suck under the waves of anticipation, holding deep in its depths.

Slumping back, I rest my hands on the ground behind and stare at the ceiling. I was so sure they were related sohow, that the necklace would be the answer.

But no.

Just a whole lot of nothing.

Marcus, who had been standing as still as a statue in the corner, suddenly exhales. The sound draws my attention, and I glance over at him, at the way his brow relaxes.

"Seriously?" I scowl in his direction. "You're an absolute rock over anything else, but the possibility of magic turns you into a nervous wreck?"

He ets my gaze, his face an impassive mask. "Magic is against the natural order of the world."

A soft snort. "Says the guy who turns into a giant wolf."

He has a point, Selene chis in, her tone amused. Shifters are a part of nature. Magic... I don't know. It may pull from the elents, but it doesn't seem very natural to have that much power.

Of course they feel that way. They're shifters. To them, their abilities are as natural as breathing. I open my mouth to argue, but a sudden flicker catches my eye. Frowning, I lean closer to the book. Did the page just...

move?

No, that's impossible. There's no breeze in here, no reason for the paper to shift. And yet, as I watch, the page ripples, as if a gust of wind has swept across its surface.

My breath catches in my throat. "Selene, are you seeing this?"

Seeing what? She pads over, her nails clicking on the hardwood floor. The page is blank, Ava.

But it's not. Not anymore. As I stare, transfixed, inky lines manifest. At first just a hint of their existence, until they darken, swirling and twisting like living things. They coalesce into shapes, into symbols I've never seen before. Ancient runes, perhaps, or so long-forgotten language.

A magical language?

The tingling in my fingers intensifies, spreading up my arms and into my chest. It's like the book is calling to , reaching out with tendrils of power that wrap around my soul.

I'm dimly aware of Marcus shifting uneasily behind , of Selene's worried whine. But they seem distant, unimportant compared to the revelation unfolding before my eyes.

The symbols glow, pulsing with an inner light. They're beautiful, srizing. I can't look away. Can't move. Can't breathe.

And then, with a flash of blinding white, the world falls away, and I'm falling.

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