Aqua’s POV
Steven was back.
I was still holding him when I felt his hand leave me.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Not like he wanted to get away.
Like he was hoping I would not notice.
I noticed.
His fingers had been curled loosely against my dress.
Now they retreated toward his own chest.
His shoulders followed.
Only an inch.
Maybe less.
But after spending days searching Steven’s face for things that did not belong, I noticed everything.
“Steven.”
He stopped.
His eyes stayed down.
Fang remained curled around us, his black scales and yellow stripes pressed against Steven’s leg.
The room was still broken.
Water shimmered across the floor.
Fragments of the cup Aqua—no.
I had broken.
Salizar had broken.
Everything felt too tangled to name correctly yet.
Steven looked at his hands.
His hands.
He flexed one finger.
Then immediately stopped.
“I don't think I should touch you.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
His throat moved.
“He used them.”
His voice was rough.
Not weak.
Just worn down until every word seemed to scrape on the way out.
Steven stared at his palms.
“These hands.”
I reached for one.
He locked up.
Completely.
His fingers did not close around mine.
They did not pull away either.
His breath caught.
I stopped.
“Do you want me to let go?”
His eyes snapped to mine.
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Then softer—
“No. I just…”
His gaze dropped between us.
“I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself.”
My heart hurt.
Steven had always reached for me.
When he was happy.
When he was frightened.
When he was angry and trying not to be.
A hand around mine.
An arm around my waist.
His forehead against mine.
His body had always spoken before he figured out how to say what he needed.
Now he sat inside that same body like it belonged to someone dangerous.
I tightened my fingers around his.
Not enough to trap him.
Enough for him to feel me there.
“If you do not want me touching you, tell me.”
Steven frowned.
“Aqua—”
“I mean it.”
His breathing stayed uneven.
“If you need me to stop, I stop.”
He swallowed.
“But do not pull away because you decided I should be afraid of you.”
His face changed.
Pain.
Immediate.
“I saw what he did.”
“I know.”
“He used my hands.”
“I know.”
“My mouth.”
“I know.”
“Aqua—”
“I know.”
My own voice cracked this time.
Steven went quiet.
I breathed through the ache before it could swallow the rest.
“What Salizar did was wrong.”
Steven looked away.
“I am angry.”
His jaw tightened.
“I am scared he could come back.”
That got his eyes back on me.
I did not hide from it.
“I am.”
His face crumpled slightly.
I squeezed his hand.
“But I am not going to look at my husband hurting and decide I cannot hold him because someone else used his body.”
Steven stared at me.
My eyes burned.
“I know the difference.”
His breath stopped.
“Between what?”
“Between him touching me and you touching me.”
Something in his expression broke.
Quietly.
I lifted his hand.
Slow enough that he could stop me.
He did not.
I pressed his palm against my cheek.
His fingers stayed rigid.
His breathing turned shallow.
“I know who this belongs to,” I whispered.
His eyes filled.
I leaned into his palm.
He still did not move.
“That doesn't mean what happened disappears.”
I closed my eyes for a second.
“It doesn't mean I'm not hurt.”
His breath hitched.
“But Salizar does not get this too.”
Steven swallowed.
“What?”
I opened my eyes.
“The way I hold my husband.”
His face folded.
One finger moved against my cheek.
Barely.
Then another.
Careful.
Afraid.
His.
I covered his hand with mine.
Steven breathed in.
The exhale came unevenly.
He looked like he wanted to cry.
He also looked like he would rather swallow every tear before letting another thing fall apart in front of me.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
“I know.”
His fingers twitched against my skin.
“I—”
Green light split across the wet floor.
Steven’s entire body went rigid.
Fang rose instantly.
His head lifted, yellow eyes fixed on the circle of Arcanum opening across the far side of the room.
I turned.
A portal widened.
Bright.
Sharp.
Controlled.
Fredrick stepped through before it had fully formed.
His eyes were already glowing green.
He stopped.
Looked once at the room.
At the water.
The broken cup.
Fang.
Steven.
Me.
Then the faint violet-white lines still tracing beneath the skin of my hands.
His expression changed.
Barely.
Which meant whatever he had expected to find—
this was not it.
“What happened?”
Steven immediately shifted beside me.
He tried to straighten.
His muscles protested before he got far.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Nothing.”
“Steven.”
“Fredrick is here.”
Fredrick looked down at him.
“I am capable of speaking to you on the floor.”
Steven stared at him.
Fang lowered his head again.
I nearly smiled.
Steven did not.
He pushed one hand against the floor anyway.
His arm gave enough that I caught his shoulder before he could pretend it had not.
His jaw tightened.
Fredrick’s gaze sharpened.
“Do not move.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
I looked at Steven.
He looked at me.
“That was before.”
Fredrick crossed the room.
Steven’s voice had changed.
Steadier.
Almost normal.
Almost.
If I ignored how carefully he was holding every part of himself still.
If I ignored the red around his eyes.
If I ignored the way he kept both hands where he could see them.
Fredrick crouched several feet away.
His attention moved over Steven’s chest.
The necklace.
Then me.
“What happened?”
Steven opened his mouth.
“I let him—”
“Later.”
Steven stopped.
Fredrick’s tone did not soften.
It did not need to.
“Tell me what happened immediately before the surge.”
I answered.
“Salizar was controlling him.”
Fredrick’s eyes moved to Steven.
Steven looked down.
“I got him back.”
Fredrick looked at me.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“Describe it.”
“I reached for Steven.”
“With Currena?”
“At first.”
My eyes dropped toward my hands.
“But something else answered.”
Fredrick’s gaze followed mine.
The violet-white traces were faint now.
Almost gone.
He did not touch them.
He looked at Steven instead.
Then began to raise one hand toward his chest.
Steven locked.
Not dramatically.
He did not flinch away.
He simply stopped breathing.
Fredrick noticed before his fingers reached him.
His hand stopped in the air.
“May I?”
Steven stared at it.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Then Steven looked at me.
I said nothing.
This was his answer.
His body.
His choice.
He looked back at Fredrick.
“Yes.”
His voice caught slightly.
He cleared his throat.
“Yes.”
Only then did Fredrick touch him.
Two fingers first.
Lightly.
Above the necklace.
Steven’s shoulders tightened.
Green light spread beneath Fredrick’s hand.
“Breathe,” Fredrick said.
Steven exhaled through his nose.
“Everyone keeps telling me that.”
Fang’s head lifted.
Steven glanced down.
“Yes. You too.”
Fang blinked once.
I could almost hear the insult in it.
Fredrick closed his eyes.
Green Arcanum moved over Steven’s sternum.
Around the necklace.
Down beneath his shirt in thin, precise lines.
Steven remained completely still.
His hand searched for mine without looking.
I gave it to him.
His fingers closed.
Weakly.
Enough.
The green light pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Fredrick’s eyes opened.
“Your core is intact.”
Steven’s grip tightened.
Mine did too.
“Intact,” Fredrick continued, “is not the same as stable.”
Steven swallowed.
“How unstable?”
“Enough.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It is the answer you are receiving while I am still examining you.”
There.
Steven.
Somewhere beneath all of the hurt.
I almost smiled.
Fredrick moved his hand slightly lower.
The green lines changed.
Some sank through Steven’s core without resistance.
Others stopped abruptly near the necklace.
Fredrick went still.
His eyes narrowed.
“What did you do?”
I stared at him.
“To Salizar?”
“Yes.”
“I pushed him back.”
Fredrick waited.
“I think.”
“That part is evident.”
Steven looked at him.
“Is he gone?”
Fredrick’s gaze moved to the necklace.
“No.”
The word landed heavily.
Steven’s fingers tightened around mine.
My stomach dropped even though I already knew.
Fredrick continued.
“You did not remove Salizar.”
“Then what did she do?” Steven asked.
“Contained him.”
Silence.
I looked at Steven’s chest.
Fredrick traced one finger through the air above the necklace.
A green line formed.
Stopped.
Curved around something invisible.
“You forced Salizar away from the forward layer of Steven’s core.”
I swallowed.
“He's still inside.”
“Yes.”
Steven’s face tightened.
Fredrick looked at him.
“He is not currently controlling the body.”
“Currently.”
“Yes.”
I hated that word.
Fredrick’s attention returned to me.
“You established a boundary.”
I frowned.
“I did?”
“Yes.”
“I don't know how.”
“I believe you.”
That made me look at him.
Fredrick was not being kind.
He was stating a fact.
His gaze dropped toward the floor.
Violet-white residue still sat faintly inside the cracks.
He held one hand above it.
The green in his eyes sharpened.
“Aetheris.”
The word made the room feel colder.
I stared.
“No.”
Fredrick looked up.
“That is an unusual response to evidence.”
“I used Currena.”
“You used Currena.”
He glanced toward the pale light beneath my skin.
“And then you used Aetheris.”
“I don't have Aetheris.”
Fredrick’s expression remained maddeningly calm.
“You appear to disagree with your own bloodline.”
I looked at my hands.
Stone.
Our father.
Something I had always known was part of me without ever believing it would answer.
Steven shifted.
“She didn't know.”
Fredrick looked at him.
“I am aware.”
“She didn't choose it.”
“I am also aware.”
Steven’s jaw stayed tight.
Protecting me.
Even now.
I squeezed his hand.
Fredrick studied the light again.
“You manifested it protectively.”
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that whatever happened here caused the dormant Stone side of your magic to answer.”
“That is all?”
“That is enough for today.”
His attention moved back to Steven.
“The rest can wait until neither of you looks as though standing is an unreasonable ambition.”
Steven frowned.
“I can stand.”
Fredrick looked at him.
I looked at him.
Fang looked at him.
Steven sighed.
“Fine.”
Fredrick’s hand returned to the space above the necklace.
The Arcanum caught against something again.
His expression sharpened.
“The boundary is more structured than I initially thought.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“You did more than push him away.”
He looked at me.
“You formed a seal.”
I stared.
“A seal?”
“A crude one.”
“Crude?”
Steven made a sound beside me.
Small.
Offended on my behalf.
Fredrick glanced at him.
“Effective.”
Steven’s mouth twitched.
Fredrick returned to me.
“Precision can be taught. Instinct cannot.”
That sounded suspiciously like praise.
I decided not to ruin it by pointing that out.
Fredrick lifted one hand.
A geometric green shape formed between his fingers.
Layer after layer.
Worth Arcanum.
I recognized the style.
Not the symbols.
Then he reached inside his coat.
Steven frowned.
Fredrick pulled out a narrow folded strip marked with green ink.
“You carry those around?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“A contingency.”
Steven stared.
“For Salizar?”
“For situations involving you.”
The room went quiet.
Steven blinked.
“What?”
Fredrick unfolded the strip.
“I prepared contingencies before you arrived in Worthington.”
“Before you met me?”
“Yes.”
“You already had backup plans for me?”
Fredrick finally looked at him.
“You were a Salvatore entering my town.”
Steven stared.
“That is not comforting.”
“It was not designed to comfort you.”
A laugh nearly escaped me.
I covered my mouth.
Steven looked at me.
“You're laughing.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“A little.”
Fredrick ignored us.
“The original preparations were general.”
Green lines brightened along the strip.
“Core instability. Incenda overload. hostile magical interference. familiar-bond corruption. inherited complications.”
Steven looked at him.
“That is a cheerful list.”
“I prefer preparation to surprise.”
Fredrick’s gaze moved toward the necklace.
“Once I understood Salizar’s relationship to the pendant and your core, I altered the relevant structures.”
I stared at the strip.
“You made something specifically for him.”
“I adapted something for him.”
Steven shook his head faintly.
“You really plan for everything.”
“No.”
Fredrick placed the strip against the wet floor.
Green light spread beneath it.
“I plan for enough things that people mistake the two.”
That sounded more honest.
The Arcanum expanded.
A ring moved around Steven and me.
Fang lifted his head.
Fredrick looked at me.
“Put your hand over the necklace.”
I did.
The pendant rested cold beneath my palm.
“Now find the boundary.”
I frowned.
“I don't know where it is.”
“You built it.”
“Without knowing I was building it.”
“That is not the same thing as being unable to find it.”
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Steven looked between us.
“I don't think either of you is going to win this.”
Fredrick ignored him.
“Your magic knows where it is.”
That was not particularly useful.
Still—
I closed my eyes.
The necklace beneath my palm.
Steven’s heartbeat.
Fast.
His hand holding mine.
The memory of reaching through Salizar.
The certainty that there had been one person behind those eyes who belonged there.
Steven.
My husband.
My Steven.
Something answered.
Violet-white light returned beneath my palm.
Soft.
Then brighter.
Steven inhaled sharply.
My eyes opened.
“Does that hurt?”
“No.”
His eyes stayed on mine.
His voice lowered.
“It feels like you.”
My throat tightened.
Fredrick said nothing.
For once.
The light spread across Steven’s chest.
Not through him.
Around something deeper.
A curve.
A line.
A place where Steven ended—
and Salizar did not get to cross.
Fredrick’s eyes sharpened.
“There.”
He raised both hands.
Green Arcanum rose around my light.
One line.
Another.
Symbols layered over each other.
Circling.
Reinforcing.
Never touching the center.
Never replacing mine.
Steven’s fingers tightened around my hand.
The necklace warmed.
Once.
Barely.
My heart jumped.
“Fredrick.”
“I felt it.”
Steven went rigid.
Fredrick’s Arcanum tightened.
The warmth disappeared.
His jaw set.
“He is aware of what we are doing.”
Steven went pale.
“He's awake?”
“Possibly.”
“Can he hear us?”
“Possibly.”
Steven looked down at the necklace.
Fredrick’s voice sharpened.
“He cannot answer.”
Steven looked up.
“Why?”
Fredrick glanced toward the violet-white line beneath my palm.
“Because your wife built a wall.”
My breath stopped.
Then green light rose around it.
“And I am giving it a second lock.”
The Arcanum snapped into place.
The room pulsed.
Once.
The violet-white boundary flared.
Steven gasped.
Fang hissed.
My hand nearly lifted.
“Stay,” Fredrick ordered.
I did.
The light folded inward.
Violet-white first.
Green around it.
Aetheris beneath Arcanum.
Two structures.
Two locks.
The necklace went still.
Completely.
The silence that followed felt different.
Not empty.
Closed.
Steven breathed in.
Slowly.
Then out.
Fredrick lowered his hands.
The glow in his eyes dimmed.
“It will hold.”
Steven swallowed.
“For how long?”
“If no one interferes with it, considerably longer than the first.”
Steven’s expression tightened.
“I have no intention of interfering with it.”
Fredrick looked at him.
“Good.”
No accusation.
No second wound.
Just the answer.
Steven looked down.
After a moment, he said quietly,
“This happened because I let him in.”
My chest tightened.
“Steven—”
“He asked.”
His voice roughened.
“And I said yes.”
Fredrick folded the narrow strip.
“That decision will need to be discussed.”
Steven’s eyes lowered.
Fredrick continued.
“Later.”
Steven looked up.
“We will discuss the door when your core is not unstable enough for me to feel the strain from across the room.”
His gaze shifted briefly toward the necklace.
“Right now, I am ensuring the locks hold.”
Steven said nothing.
Some of the tension left his shoulders.
Not because Fredrick had told him he had done nothing wrong.
He had not.
Because Fredrick had made one thing clear.
There would be a later.
Steven did not have to punish himself into the floor before he reached it.
Fang shifted beside us.
His scales dragged across the wet wood.
Steven turned.
Fang’s yellow eyes fixed on Fredrick.
Steven’s expression changed.
“He wants you to check him.”
Fredrick looked at Fang.
Fang stared back.
Angry.
Proud.
Free.
Fredrick moved one hand toward him.
Fang tensed.
Fredrick stopped.
“May I?”
Fang remained still for a moment.
Then moved forward on his own.
Slowly.
He laid part of his body across Steven’s leg.
Fredrick placed two fingers against his scales.
Green light spread.
Fang jerked once.
Steven’s hand immediately moved toward him—
then stopped halfway.
I saw it.
The fear.
The hesitation.
Fang did too.
He pushed his head beneath Steven’s palm.
Steven froze.
Then slowly let his fingers settle over Fang’s scales.
The green light traveled through the familiar bond.
Something tightened in my chest.
I could not hear it.
But I could feel the shape of the connection.
Frayed.
Pulled too hard.
Fredrick’s expression darkened.
“He used the bond.”
Steven’s jaw tightened.
“The command.”
“Yes.”
My stomach twisted.
“He forced Fang through Steven’s bond.”
Fredrick nodded.
Steven looked down at Fang.
“He made him stay quiet.”
“I know.”
“He made him come back.”
“I know.”
“He made him—”
Steven stopped.
His mouth tightened.
Fang pressed harder beneath his hand.
Fredrick withdrew his fingers.
“The command itself is gone.”
Steven looked up.
“Completely?”
“Yes.”
Fang lifted his head.
Steven went still.
Then his eyes closed.
I waited.
“What did he say?”
Steven opened them.
“He said good.”
That sounded like Fang.
Fredrick looked at him again.
“The bond remains strained.”
My stomach sank.
“Can you repair it?”
“It is already repairing itself.”
His gaze moved to Steven.
“Do not issue commands through it unless absolutely necessary.”
Steven almost looked offended.
“I don't command Fang.”
Fang’s head tilted.
Steven stared at him.
“Usually.”
I touched Fang lightly.
“He stays because he wants to.”
Fang looked toward me.
Then curled himself more firmly around Steven’s leg.
Steven listened.
His face softened.
“He says yes.”
Something about that mattered.
More than I could explain.
Salizar had used the bond as ownership.
Fang stayed because he chose to.
Fredrick stood.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now Steven rests.”
Steven opened his mouth.
Fredrick raised one finger.
“No.”
Steven closed it.
“No training.”
Steven sighed.
“No deliberate Incenda.”
“I know.”
“No attempts to determine whether Salizar can hear you.”
Steven looked at him.
“I wasn't going to.”
“You were going to wonder.”
“That is different.”
“It becomes the same thing when curiosity wins.”
Steven looked personally attacked.
Fredrick continued.
“You will not remove the necklace.”
Steven’s hand moved toward it automatically.
Then stopped before touching.
“Do not tamper with either seal.”
“I won't.”
“If the pendant heats, pulses, changes weight, changes color, or behaves in any way you consider unusual, you tell Aqua.”
Steven nodded.
“And me.”
“Right.”
“Immediately.”
“I said right.”
Fredrick’s gaze sharpened.
“Immediately means before you decide whether the information is important enough to inconvenience anyone.”
Steven looked away.
That one landed.
Good.
Fredrick looked at me.
“If he hears Salizar—”
“He tells me.”
“If he feels pressure against the barrier—”
“He tells me.”
“If his eyes change—”
“I tell you.”
Steven looked at both of us.
“You know I am still here.”
“Yes,” Fredrick said.
“That is why these instructions are being given in front of you.”
Steven frowned.
I almost laughed again.
Fredrick reached into his coat.
This time, he removed a thicker folded parchment.
Green symbols lined the edges.
He held it out to me.
I took it.
“What is this?”
“Emergency reinforcement.”
The symbols shifted faintly beneath my fingers.
“If the inner boundary weakens before I return, place it against the necklace and press your palm over the center mark.”
“Then what?”
“Say my name.”
Steven frowned.
“That is all?”
“No.”
Fredrick looked at him.
“But if I explain the remaining sequence to you, you will memorize it, decide you can complete it without assistance, and attempt to solve the problem yourself.”
Steven stared.
I stared at Steven.
Steven looked at me.
“That feels targeted.”
“It is.”
I folded the parchment carefully.
Fredrick continued.
“Aqua has the instructions because Aqua is presently less likely to decide self-sacrifice is an efficient troubleshooting method.”
Steven rubbed one hand over his face.
“I am sitting right here.”
“Yes.”
Fredrick looked at me.
“Keep it on you.”
“I will.”
“Steven is not to be alone today.”
Steven sighed.
“Aqua needs rest too.”
“She does.”
Fredrick looked between us.
“You both do.”
“How?”
“By lying down.”
I stared.
Fredrick stared back.
“I understand the mechanics.”
“Then apply them.”
Steven made a quiet sound beside me.
I looked at him.
“Don't laugh.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Maybe.
Fredrick moved toward the fading portal mark.
Then stopped.
“No travel until I reassess you.”
Steven nodded.
No argument this time.
That worried me more than one would have.
Fredrick’s gaze dropped toward my hands.
Only the faintest violet-white trace remained beneath my wrist.
“Do not deliberately attempt Aetheris again today.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Unknown.”
I hated that answer.
Fredrick continued before I could ask anything else.
“You have never consciously used it before. Your first attempt occurred under extreme strain. That is sufficient reason not to experiment while exhausted.”
I looked at my palm.
Stone.
Aetheris.
Another part of myself awake without permission or warning.
Fredrick’s attention shifted toward the portal.
“Fredrick.”
He stopped.
I looked at the parchment in my hand.
Then at Steven.
Then back at him.
“Thank you.”
His expression changed.
Barely.
“You did the difficult part.”
I stared.
Fredrick looked toward Steven’s chest.
“The first lock was yours.”
My fingers tightened around the parchment.
“I did not know what I was doing.”
“That rarely stops magic when the intention is clear enough.”
He looked at Steven.
“Do not promise me you can keep it closed.”
Steven swallowed.
His mouth had already opened.
Then shut.
Fredrick waited.
Steven looked down at the necklace.
Then back at him.
“I'll tell someone if I feel it opening.”
Fredrick nodded.
“Better.”
He stepped into the green circle.
Light climbed around him.
Then he stopped one last time.
“Steven.”
Steven looked up.
“You are not training.”
“I heard you.”
“Aqua.”
“Yes?”
“If anything changes—”
“I know.”
Fredrick disappeared.
The portal folded inward.
Green light swept once across the wet floor.
Then vanished.
Silence returned.
No questions.
No examination.
No instructions.
Just us.
Steven.
Me.
Fang.
Broken glass.
Water.
The folded parchment in my hand.
And two locks around something that had almost taken my husband away from me.
Steven sat very still.
Too still.
For several seconds, he only looked at the place where Fredrick had disappeared.
Then his eyes moved.
To the broken cup.
The water.
The crooked sofa.
The wreckage.
I watched something change in his face.
The same thing that happened whenever Steven found a problem small enough to put his hands around.
His palm pressed against the floor.
“Steven?”
He looked at the broken glass.
“I should clean this.”