Magister Orion and his Fae friends are settled into the Grand Sage's cabin, though there isn't much room. Elverly, shockingly, takes it all in stride, without a single complaint. She treats the Fae with respect; it's so strange, coming out of that cranky old gno woman. Is she ill?
Magister Orion settles into his vigil over the dream-eater, and the weight of responsibility lifts from my shoulders, if only for a mont. He's the only other person who can help in this situation.
It's nice to have backup.
I am here, Grimoire points out.
It's not the sa.
The question burns in my throat, but I need to know. Everyone else has left the room—once Elverly's room, but we've moved her bed into the Grand Sage's in order to use it as a temporary holding cell—except for Magister Orion, who studies the dream-eater's unconscious form with intense focus.
"Magister." My voice is soft; it's hard to let the words co out. "I need to ask you sothing."
His eyes et mine. "Yes, child?"
"Ivy Shadowpine. She's a wolf shifter, a strong one. She's been missing since the dream-eater appeared at our hospital."
His head inclines slightly, encouraging to go on.
"There was a strange feeling within her, sothing that felt corrupted and alive inside her."
His expression shifts, a subtle tightening around his eyes. "You suspect possession."
"Is it possible?" Heat rises to my face. "Could the dream-eater have taken over her body?" It's a fantastical question, especially once the dream-eater showed a form that doesn't look anything like Ivy. But she's still missing, and there's no other conclusion I can co to.
Magister Orion's gaze returns to the creature. His massive fra seems to grow still, like a statue carved from ancient stone. "Yes."
His answer is expected, but still horrifying. My stomach churns. "How?"
"That, I cannot determine." He gestures to the dream-eater. "These creatures do not possess in the way you are thinking; they leave no trace of their victims. They consu the essence, the mories, everything that makes a person who they are."
"So Ivy is—" The words stick in my throat. It's hard to imagine such a strange death.
"Gone." He speaks gently. "And possibly for quite so ti. The signs would have been subtle. The dream-eater did not take her body, but stole her form. If you wolves did not scent the difference…"
My hands shake; this creature was walking among us, wearing her face. Her voice. Even her scent. "No."
"The dream-eater would easily learned her mannerisms, her relationships." Magister Orion sighs. "They know everything."
"Ready to head out?" Kellan's voice breaks through the conversation as he opens the door.
The Magister waves his hand at . "Go. Rest. I can feel your exhaustion."
Sighing, I push myself off the floor. "I'm ready. Could you call Vanessa to et us at your cabin? I need to speak with her. And you."
His eyes glaze over for a second. "Done. She's on her way."
* * *
Vanessa takes the news better than I did, and she admits she suspected much of the sa. We both wonder how long Ivy's been gone, but it's impossible to know.
My head throbs as I rest it on my arms, the solid wood of Kellan's kitchen table offering little comfort. The scent of coffee fills the air—rich, bitter, and mildly nauseating, like the thoughts swirling in my mind. Lisa's quiet sips from the couch punctuate the heavy silence.
"I need to tell Clayton about Ivy." The words are dirt in my mouth. "If Lucas doesn't make it back soon..."
"I'll do it." Kellan's voice carries that stern Beta authority, probably because the other party is Clayton, of all people.
"No." I lift my head, eting his steely gaze. "It has to co from . It would be disrespectful..." My voice trails off. The mory of Ivy confiding in at the hospital… Was that real? Or was it the dream-eater, playing at being her?
"Gods, how does Lucas do this? How does he handle it?"
Vanessa's clothes rustle as she shifts in her chair. Dark circles ring her eyes, testant to the chaos of the day. "You're doing fine, Ava. It's always rough the first ti."
She sounds so matter-of-fact, but it makes sense when she faces death so regularly. I don't wish I had her experience, but I do wish I could compartntalize like she does.
"How many?" I ask, deciding to shelve the Ivy issue for now. My brain can't handle it anymore. Though, this subject isn't any better. "How many did we lose today?"
The silence stretches. Vanessa's shoulders slump further. "Twenty-seven confird. Three more are critical. The others… should pull through, at least."
Twenty-seven.
My heart aches.
"I need to et with their families." My fingers trace invisible patterns on the table's surface. "The rites... we'll need to prepare everything." All things Lucas would do, but he isn't here right now. "Kellan, help with a list of what needs to be done."
The words sound hollow, inadequate against the weight of what they represent. But it's my duty now. My responsibility.
"Yes, Luna."
Lisa leans forward from her place on the couch. "Ava, are you okay? You look pale."
My lips curve into what must be the weakest smile ever attempted. "I'm fine."
"You're not." Lisa sets her coffee mug down with a soft clink. "But I get it. Just... let help? With anything. Even if it's just fetching coffee or organizing papers or whatever."
"I know." The gratitude in my chest wars with the exhaustion. Lisa's always been there, even before all this supernatural chaos invaded our lives. "Thank you."
Vanessa's warm hand covers mine, her touch gentle despite the calluses earned from years of healing work. "Kellan can handle most of this, Ava. You should try to get so sleep. Even an hour would help."
"No." I pull my hand back, straightening in my chair. "These families deserve to hear it from their Luna. They need to know their losses matter to us—to ."
Twenty-seven faces I'll never see again. Twenty-seven families waiting for news. Twenty-seven holes torn in our pack that we'll never truly fill.
God. Twenty-seven… and it could have been worse.
You need rest. Selene's voice echoes in my mind, her presence a cool whisper against my consciousness. There's sothing strained in her words, but I'm too tired to push.
"Just one hour," Vanessa insists. "Maybe by then the Grand Sage will have the watches fixed, and we can reach Lucas."
I hesitate.
You have worn yourself out, Grimoire agrees. Just take a mont for yourself. It will help.
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