The Homunculus Knight

The Velvet Rose (Part 2)

“Vampires are predators, don't ever forget that. Some might be so beautiful it takes your breath away, but that doesn’t change the fact they are still undead monsters. All those curves, muscles, and perfect skin is just bait. Don’t take the bait if you want to live. Remember, there are plenty of lovely lads and lasses who won’t try and eat you when the fun’s done.”- Mak Murtrey, Rest-Bringer, on Moroi vampires.

Pryia became perfectly still, freezing like any animal assessing danger. Leaning forward, trying not to enjoy how much this information rattled Pryia, Natalie set her glass on the ground. “I answered your question; now, will you help me?”

Remembering to mimic the motions of life again, Pryia blinked and said. “Why do you need my help? If… if you are telling me the truth, then you can do things I can’t even imagine.”

Sighing, Natalie debated how much to share. Showing any weakness seemed ill-advised, so Natalie twisted some details. “My power isn’t matched by my experience. I could unleash the Alukah’s strength, but that wouldn’t end well for anyone. I’m forced to be miserly with my power if I don’t want to lose control and hurt people.”

Staring at Natalie very intently, Pryia asked. “I don’t suppose you can prove to me what you are?”

Reaching down, Natalie dipped her finger in her glass’s last dredges of sanguinea. She smeared the alchemically treated blood onto her neck. Pryia watched with very wide eyes as the red fluid quickly froze wherever it touched the stigma. After giving Pryia a long look at the holy sigil, Natalie scraped the frozen blood off her skin and cleaned her fingers with a lick.

Enjoying even the chilled wine, Natalie said. “Master Time has marked me with a stigma. He wouldn’t do that to any normal vampire, would he?”

Pondering this, Pryia slowly asked. “I suppose you won’t tell me how you came to possess the primogenitor’s strength?”

Smiling mirthlessly, Natalie said. “No, I will not. So, back to my purpose, will you heal the damage to Yara’s mind?”

Pryia pursed her lips, seeming to consider her options. “I thought you a mere Strix, but now that I know what you are… I can do something better.”

Raising an eyebrow, Natalie let her host continue. “My kind, the Moroi, are masters of manipulating minds. While our magic might be lacking compared to a Strix, our psychic abilities are without compare, at least in comparison to the other major breeds. If the old legends are even a little true, you should have the potential to match any Moroi with proper training. Let me teach you how to manipulate minds. It will be less time-consuming for me and more beneficial for you.”

Natalie didn’t trust this generous offer. “What do you get in return? The information I shared with you isn’t as valuable as it once was. I’m assuming you want something more for your help?”

Shrugging, sending her curly hair a flutter, Pryia said. “You are the heir to something old and terrible but also blessed by our eldest enemy. If you survive the next few decades, I think you’ll become one of the most powerful vampires in the world. Having someone like that as a friend, especially one who owes me a favor… well, that is well worth some time and effort.”

Accepting that answer, Natalie asked. “Well, when can we begin?”

Glancing at her sleeping harem, Pryia said, “I have two hours before I’m needed elsewhere; let's start now.”

Sighing, Natalie got up and approached Pryia. The older vampire raised an eyebrow as Natalie leaned down and suddenly kissed her. Pryia melted into the kiss, and the two shared it momentarily before Natalie broke the contact and asked, “Is that enough to form a bridge between minds?”

Pryia just blinked and then laughed. “Little sister, you surprise me! Only the deepest mental connections require that. Usually, eye contact or physical touch is enough to form a stable bridge. I don’t know who has been teaching you, but they certainly wanted either a very strong bridge or just to taste your lips.”

Suddenly mortified, Natalie started internally kicking herself. To form a link with Isabelle had required a kiss, but her other efforts to dominate minds had just needed eye contact. So Natalie had assumed if Pryia was going to be teaching her, then it was best to get this over with and take the intuitive.

Stuttering with embarrassment, Natalie. “I’m s-sorry, I just. Ur-well, I thought-”

Pryia laughed. “Oh, don’t apologize, little sister, I’m not complaining. In fact, if you, the Paladin, or preferably both of you, want to join my bed, all you need to do is ask.”

Ignoring the violently erotic proposition, Natalie looked into Pryia’s eyes and pulled on the bridge she felt form when they kissed. The world faded away just to Pryia’s red eyes, and when Natalie broke the contact, they were both sitting in a field of red lilies.

Pryia was still naked, but Natalie was wearing her favorite dress. Standing up and looking around the field, Pryia nodded in appreciation. “Interesting mindscape, well constructed, understandable but with enough flair not to be boring.”

Examining her mindscape for herself, Natalie half expected to find Isabelle or the Angler to be waiting for them. Thankfully neither god nor monster was present. So after conjuring up her favorite chair, Natalie asked, “So what do we start with, Pryia?”

Nodding to herself, Pryia asked, “What’s the extent of your psychic skills? What can you do?”

Sitting down and crossing her legs, Natalie listed what she’d been taught or figured out. “Not much; I can make bridges between minds and exert some influence on the weak-willed. I’ve not done much more than knock people out with a glare or remove part of a memory.”

Walking through the field of lilies, Pryia said. “A good start; you know how to interact with a mind. Now I just need to teach you how to do so properly.”

Gesturing to their surroundings, Pryia explained. “We are currently within the surface of your conscious mind. This part of your mindscape is the… vestibule of your mind, being the transition space between your deeper mind and the physical world. Here the basics of your personality and existence are demonstrated in symbolism. Are you following along?”

Natalie nodded and looked at the red lilies, remembering when they’d been dyed the color of blood. With this new information, Natalie guessed the symbolism of that. It probably represented her mind accepting vampirism and being altered by the Alukah’s influence.

Pryia reached down and ran fingers over the lilies waiving in an unfelt wind. “The mind is a mess of memories, emotions, and ideas forming into the tangle we call consciousness. Understanding it is difficult without some method of interpretation. The easiest and most effective way to recognize meaning is to interpret the symbolism of a person’s mind. A creative and educated mind can decipher a person by understanding the different elements that make up a psyche.”

Plucking one of the red lilies and playing with its drooping bell-shaped petals, Pryia elaborated. “While exceptions exist, many symbols will share meanings even between minds. So once you get the basics down, you can apply your knowledge more efficiently. Like flowers, for example, if healthy and abundant, they usually represent happiness and some form of love. The meaning of different flower types is tricker since they can have personal meanings. But if you find someone with a great rose bush growing in their head, it's a good gamble they are infatuated.”

Getting up from her chair, understanding this was going to be more like Isabelle’s lessons than her previous debate with Pryia, Natalie asked. “So a mind filled with filth would represent what? A dirty or sickly mind?”

Pryia cocked her head in a noncommital gesture. “Sometimes, but usually, that type of manifestation means self-loathing and pain. This is more an art than a scholarly pursuit. It's about understanding people and context rather than memorizing a list of symbolic archetypes.”

Licking her lips, Natalie thought about that. She normally understood people well and hoped her skills might translate into this strange art. But before she could think too much about that, Natalie had a question related to her last experience entering a mind.

“I’ve entered minds, hoping to go deeper and access memories before. It was very difficult, everything was a jumble of thoughts, and I couldn’t sort any of it out. I felt like I was just… falling between flickers of ideas and memories.”

Nodding, Pryia smiled. “Yes, you entered an unconscious mind or delved too deep without proper context. An unconscious mind isn’t forming a proper mindscape. Well, except in dreams, but that's a topic for another time. You don’t have the vestibule to pass through and acclimate yourself to a mind and its mechanics. Instead, you are just leaping into it and hoping for the best. A strong and focused mind can sift through the invaded psyche and force some measure of context onto what they see. But that takes training and a well-constructed memory palace, which I’ll also need to teach you how to make.”

Still managing to follow along, Natalie tried to get more information without revealing anything about her other mentor. “I’ve known Strix capable of powerful mind manipulation. You said they have a harder time with it than Moroi.”

Pryia shrugged. “The curse of the Strix doesn’t naturally lend itself to mind manipulation. But with time and experience, a Strix can achieve… palatable skill. Each breed of vampire has a knack for some of the skills our curse gives us, but we can theoretically master all of them with enough effort. Now enough about all these theories. What do you think about rapists?”

Natalie felt like she’d been slapped; the switch and topics had been so abrupt. “Uh, they are scum; why do you ask?”

Nodding and smiling, Pryia reached out and grabbed Natalie’s arm, and pulled. The world shifted around them, fields of red melting away, and Natalie felt a wave of vertigo pass over her. When things had settled, she found they now stood in a poorly maintained cottage. It stunk of stale beer, and discolored water dripped from the rafters. The only light came from a pitiful fireplace that spat its displeasure at being fed wet wood. Three of the walls held doors, and the fourth was the fireplace; two of the doors were wooden the last was solid metal. In the center of this room was a much abused wooden table and a man slumped against it.

In the surreality of the mind, Natalie’s unnatural eyesight wasn’t effective; it was hard to tell the man’s features. He seemed to be in his forties with a paunch, bald spot, and well-muscled arms. Yet sometimes his physique with shift, body fat would fade, and hair would thicken. Creating a shifting person that’s exact details seemed to alter slightly every time he was observed.

Gesturing at the slumped man like he was some exotic art piece, Pryia said. “Meet Quint. He’s a butcher by trade but likes to hurt women in his spare time. He’s battered around a few independent escorts in the city. During the riot, he raped the younger sister of one of my favorites. He should not have done that.”

Running a hand along the table Quint was leaning on, Pryia said. “Quint thought he was clever wearing a mask and a stargent necklace. He thought that would be enough to protect him from justice. It might have if I hadn’t tracked the stink he left on that sweet girl. Once I confirmed his identity, I fed on him enough to form a deep bridge. Yes, that is something we can do. Since then, I’ve made a hobby of tormenting him. So far, I’ve made him impotent, filled his sleep with nightmares, and loosened his bowels. At his current rate, Quint has a few more nights before he completely snaps.”

Natalie didn’t know if she should be impressed or horrified. She at least now understood exactly why Cole had vigorously warned her against psychic magic. An experienced Moroi like Pryia could do utterly horrific things to a person. Natalie was incredibly thankful she’s survived Dame Lorena with her mind intact.

Trying not to breathe in the stink of old liquor, stale vomit, and mildew, Natalie said. “He might be scum, but I won’t inflict more pain on him. I don’t like where that could lead.”

Pryia nodded as if she’d been expecting this. “I assumed as much, which is why you will try and fix Quint.”

Frowning, Natalie opened her mouth to object, but Pryia cut her off. “If you want to be able to help people like your thrall, then you need experience in altering a mind. You are going to, with my guidance, try and stop Quint from being such a piece of shit. I want you to dive into his mind, understand where his sickness comes from and cut it out.”

Pryia shrugged then, holding up both hands in a relaxed gesture. “And if you fail and do some irrevocable damage to him, then well, no great loss.”

Glancing at the twitching form of Quint, Natalie felt genuinely uncertain of what to do. On some level, she knew backing away was the right option. Cole would never agree to this. The whole idea stunk of being the first step toward damnation. But… the idea of stopping a monster from being a monster and learning how to help Yara and many others was very, very tempting.

Thinking of Isabelle and her recent proposal, Natalie wondered if gaining this knowledge would save her life. She’d not made a decision about Isabelle’s twelve days. Some parts of Natalie worried about how the old monster would react if the offer were rejected. Natalie having additional tools and another source of knowledge might just be what kept Isabelle from doing something unhinged.

With the spirit of healthy paranoia and compromise in mind, Natalie said. “Teach me how to enter a mind and understand its different parts for now. I’m not comfortable altering a mind, but I can understand the value in being able to observe one.”

Pryia cocked her head and sighed. “You are still so young. Alright, let's start with bridges. As you know, it's possible to weave bridges in the Aether and connect different minds. Bridges require some form of mental connection to be established. The more powerful the connection, the deeper and more effective an initial bridge can be. Eye contact is enough to link mental vestibules, but a kiss or other methods can allow for deeper access on both sides.”

Natalie tried not to think about her earlier blunder as Pryia continued explaining. “An established connection can be deepened with effort, but the stronger the initial bridge, the easier it is. I could have just made eye contact with Quint and spent some energy worming into his mind. But by feeding on him, I could much more easily access deeper parts of his mind.”

Moving away from the desk and towards one of the doors, Pryia said. “We’ll talk more about that later. For now, I want to show you the parts of the mind. We are in Quint’s vestibule, and these doors represent access to other sections of his mindscape. Let's start with the easiest thing to access, memories.”

Pryia reached one of the doors and ran a hand along it; the wood creaked and opened, revealing a swirling pit. Gesturing for Natalie to join her by the door, Pryia said. “Since we are entering through the vestibule, this will be easier, but not completely without difficulty. His mind will do most of the work, but only if we give it a slight nudge. Let's plant a seed of context and let him do the rest.”

Looking at the swirling gap, Natalie asked: “How?”

Smiling, Pryia said, “Pick a metaphor; the more it matches the mind, the easier things will be. Don’t worry too much about picking poorly; I will step in if things get dangerous.”

Stepping away from the door, Natalie went back to Quint’s shifting form. “I’m assuming he can’t see or notice us?”

Shaking her head, Pryia confirmed, “He’s currently awake but lacks any training or talent to notice a psychic intrusion. It's easier to first connect with someone awake, but once you’ve laid down the initial metaphor, it's possible to use it when they are asleep. So we don’t have to worry if he passes out on us.”

Examining Quint, Natalie sniffed him, picking up the reek of old pig blood and fresh meat. Pryia said he was a butcher, and the details of that job clung even to his mind. Nodding, Natalie left her victim and went to the swirling void. Staring at the empty space, Natalie picked her metaphor and imagined shoving it into the gap. Using the same mechanism she used to smash people unconscious, she thrust the idea into the void. It worked; the shifting emptiness started to solidify, a new room forming out of the swirl of disparate thoughts.

The room was destroyed in reverse, clumps of metaphor congealing into solid floors, walls, and other parts collapsing into existence in inverted creation. Eventually, the last pieces settled into place, and the room's nature was revealed; it was a meat larder. Cuts of meat and dead animals dangled from the ceiling or were set out on wooden slabs.

Natalie wrinkled her nose; she was no stranger to the messier part of food preparation, but this teetered on the edge of grotesque. Trying not to breathe, Natalie muttered. “I… I didn’t expect this to actually work.”

Pryia let out an almost girlish squee and hugged Natalie. “You are a natural! I didn’t think you’d succeed on your first time either!”

Disentangling herself from Pryia’s limbs and curves, Natalie poked her head into the larder. “So… this is his memory?”

Stepping into the room, Pryia poked a hanging slab of venison. “Just the surface of it. See, look over there.”

Natalie followed Pryia’s pointing hand and saw a ladder ascending up out of the room and a trapdoor descending downwards. “They will lead to other sections of memory. Typically, if you want to find the juicy secrets, you need to dig a little into a mind. If we went far enough down that trapdoor, we’d find out the last time he wet the bed.”

Grimacing, Natalie looked out of the room and into the vestibule. “So that acts as a nexus of the mind, and this is where memories are stored; then what is behind the other two doors?”

Pryia went over to one of the meat slabs and tossed it to Natalie. “We will get to that; first, let me show you something interesting.”

The moment Natalie touched the meat, the room shifted around her. Instead of a larder, she found themselves in a seedy tavern. The room seemed to revolve around one of its occupants, a beady-eyed man who must be Quint. He was pushing through a throng of people, and someone spilled a drink on him. Quint cursed and shoved the drinker, earning a shove back for his favor. Quint stumbled and slammed against a nearby table, bruising his hip. Trying to wipe the spilled beer off his shirt, Quint slouched out of the tavern, and the scene faded.

Leaving Natalie back in the larder. Natalie quickly dropped the meat, and Pryia walked towards the door. “It obviously changes based on the metaphor, but that's how you access a memory.”

Back in the vestibule, Natalie pondered this, it was a little different than her experience in Liam’s mind, but she chocked that up to Isabelle being the guide in that little endeavor. Pryia pointed at the fireplace and said, “Light sources usually represent consciousness, so considering the flames are barely smoldering, I expect Quint to be currently sleepy or intoxicated.”

Following, Pryia over to another door, Natalie asked. “So when I’ve used my power to knock people out, what exactly am I doing?”

Pryia grinned at her student. “Smashing the vestibule with the psychic equivalent of a giant’s fist. A vestibule is a metaphor for the working mind. It is the nexus of memory, emotion, instinct, and consciousness. A vampire or anyone else with the right training can disrupt that nexus with sheer force and knock them out. Weak minds and the element of surprise make it easier to do but always be careful of a well-guarded mind. At best, you will bounce off their defense; at worst, they can launch a counterattack.”

Gesturing at the other doors, Natalie guessed. “If we were just in memory and that fireplace is consciousness, then the other two doors must be emotion and instinct, right?”

Nodding, Pryia went over to the remaining wooden door and opened it, revealing another void. “This is emotion, try and solidify it.”

Natalie thought for a moment and cast her selected metaphor into the gap. A pig pen formed, complete with a dozen swine. Most of the swine clustered in one corner of the pen while two engaged in vicious combat. One of the fighting pigs was a big ugly boar with tusks and bristling back hair. Its rival, by contrast, was skeletally thin and had empty pits for eyes. Despite this obvious imbalance, the two pigs evenly matched each other.

Pryia leaned on the pig pen fence and clicked her tongue in disgust. “Anger and fear are the winners here, not to any real surprise. Joy, sadness, surprise, and the rest are mere spectators.”

Leaving the room, Pryia sighed. “Emotions are easy to read and manipulate. You can just ‘poke a pig’ to use this wretch’s metaphor, and get the desired result. It's honestly tragic how many people are dominated by their lesser emotions. I work hard to ensure my pets don’t get mired in such things.”

Natalie had been so absorbed in the lesson she’d almost forgotten exactly who she was dealing with. Pryia’s offhand remark was a good reminder. As the duo stepped in front of the iron door to instinct, Natalie reached out to press on the door. Pryia stopped her and wagged a finger with amusement.

“Getting ahead of yourself, little sister; we won’t be touching instincts unless you want to learn how to alter them. Instincts and their associated systems are very touchy, and it's easy to do lots of damage by accident. Of course, if you want to learn, then well, Quint would be a wonderful bit of practice.”

Recoiling from the door, Natalie felt a flicker of temptation. There was a lot of power in what Pryia was offering; the idea of being able to alter a person had a disturbing amount of appeal. She could free Yara and countless others from their mental shackles. She could slip into the minds of monsters and madmen, fix them, or break them as she saw fit. She could… she could become another Annoch.

Sighing, Natalie shook her head. “Thank you for what you’ve taught me. But I don’t want to take that step. Could I still convince you to help Yara?”

Frowning, Pryia made a motion, and the mindscape melted around them, leaving both vampires sitting in Pryia’s chambers. Leaning against a cushion, Pryia seemed to ponder something before saying. “No, I will not.”

Surprised, Natalie asked, “Why not?”

Pryia shrugged. “I think if I do, I’ll be interfering with something I shouldn’t. You have a real knack for psychic techniques. But you are also shackled by too much of your former life. Learning how to help this Yara woman or learning to accept her subservience are both important lessons. If the situation becomes untenable, and your thrall becomes unstable, I will help then, but until then, I’m leaving this up to you.”

Narrowing her eyes, Natalie snapped, “What happened to earning the favor of the Alukah?”

Smiling, Pryia laughed. “Oh, I’m happy to still help you in other ways. Blood, sex, or knowledge, just come to me, and I’ll provide what I can. But I’m not taking your thrall. She’s yours to do with as you please.”

Sighing, Natalie asked. “What would it take for you to reconsider?”

The older vampire shook her head. “Nothing I think you are willing to give. Now, do you want to sit and chat, maybe enjoy a meal together, or are we done?”

Glancing at the harem, noticing some of its members were stirring, Natalie bit her lip. “I’ll take my leave.”

Pryia smiled, got up, and hugged Natalie. Tentatively, Natalie returned the gesture. Pryia broke the embrace and said. “No matter that little disagreement, I like you, Natalie. You have a good head on your shoulders and a cute face. Feel free to visit your big sister whenever. Just don’t be surprised if I’m busy.”

Winking to indicate what she’d be busy doing, Pryia gently pushed Natalie towards the door. Pausing for a second, Natalie grabbed the bottle of sanguina and asked. “Where do you get this?”

Waving a hand dismissively, Pryia said. “It's not that hard to make if you know how. Take the bottle, my gift.”

Holding onto the glass decanter, Natalie replied. “Thank you for your help.”

Pryia made a gesture of dismissal. “Think nothing of it. We, good vampires, need to help each other when we can.”

Keeping a neutral expression, Natalie nodded and left the bedroom. She found Lila waiting there and was guided by the escort out of the Velvet Rose and back into the carriage. As they rode silently, the temple bells rang, signaling midnight had come. With the final note of the bells, Natalie found her eyes resting on Lila. She really was beautiful but in an almost unnatural way. The makeup and poise Lila armored herself with made her seem less of a person and more like an art piece.

Lila noticed Natalie was staring and asked in a slightly husky voice. “I’m still your companion for the evening…”

Sighing, Natalie forced herself to look away. Her mind was busy trying to sort through everything she had learned, and the distraction Lila offered was very tempting. With Cole gone, she’d been left with an empty bed and pig's blood for too long. Whispers in the back of Natalie’s mind offered many interesting possibilities. How Lila would eagerly accept her bite, and if one thing led to another…

Shaking her head, trying to push back the insidious hunger, Natalie said. “I must decline, and please don’t offer again.”

Bowing her head, Lila became quiet, leaving Natalie in awkward silence. A tiny flicker of guilt went through the vampire, but she ignored it. Refusing an eager victim was proving much harder than controlling her usual desires. When the temple finally came into view, Natalie let out a relieved sigh.

As they arrived, Natalie said. “Thank you for your companionship tonight and… and it’s not you, it's me.”

The line felt as sour and stupid as the last time Natalie used it, back in a Glockmire hayloft. But it was suitable for the situation, and she didn’t have the energy to be nicer than that. Lila nodded and offered a slight smile as Natalie left the carriage. Hurrying away from temptation, Natalie reached the Tenth Temple and slipped into the great structure. The two night guards tensed upon seeing her but didn’t make a fuss; Natalie was becoming a common sight within the temple.

Bottle of sanguina under one arm, Natalie took the time to write a short note for Morri and slip it under his office door. Then she returned to the apartment, opening the door and wondering if she should visit the archive or do something else. The smell of leather and metal greeted her, pulling a relieved sigh from her lips. Cole was back and busy unpacking his belongings.

Looking up, Cole smiled and then frowned as Natalie approached him. Natalie never let her eyes leave him as she set the bottle down and got within striking distance. Pouncing forward, Natalie tackled Cole into the bed, bringing her lips to his. Initially startled, Cole reached for his belt, but upon realizing the nature of the ‘attack,’ he gave into the kiss.

Eventually, Cole’s need for air forced him to break the kiss, and he breathlessly asked, “Are you alright?”

In between feverish kisses, Natalie relayed her state. “I… have… been… surrounded… by beautiful women offering themselves… at… every… turn. I’ve missed you, and I want you. Do you have any objections, or can I start tearing your clothes off?”

An amused snort escaped Cole as he tried to put enough space between him and Natalie to strip. “I’d prefer you helped me strip instead of ruining perfectly good traveling cloth-HEY!”

Natalie had found his collar and literally ripped Cole’s shirt down the middle. In response, he literally picked her up and chucked her over his head onto the bed. Landing with a bounce, Natalie spun around to face Cole, red eyes blazing with lust. “You have thirty seconds before I start helping.”

The couple lay together in bed, both panting as the afterglow faded. The ruins of Cole’s shirt, alongside the rest of their intact clothing, were scattered across the room. While Natalie curled up next to Cole, a contented sigh escaped her lips. “I really, really missed you.”

Cole laughed. “I can see that. Now will you tell me what in Sister Sun’s name got you in such a mood?”

Sighing, Natalie felt the last bits of her enjoyment fade as she was reminded of what had gotten her into such a state. “I met with Pryia, hoping she would help with Yara. She and her employees offered me many things… many of them erotic. That, combined with a little blood and an unfortunate amount of time alone, resulted in this.”

Cole answered her sigh with one of his own. “She is overt in her sexuality, even more so when she’s trying to weaponize it.”

Resting her chin on Cole’s chest, Natalie said, “But that’s the thing, I don’t think she was. It felt more like… I dunno someone trying to be helpful in a really weird way.”

Cole thought about that. “You are probably right. Pryia has always been ‘kind’ in her own way, and I could see her offering blood and sex as a nicety.”

Rolling off her boyfriend, staring up at the ceiling, Natalie asked, “Did you really cut off one of her hands?”

Grimacing, a gesture Natalie could sense just by the way Cole spoke, he said. “Both of them, actually. We first met when some wounds from the Voivoide’s larder were very fresh. I reacted very poorly to her advances. In retrospect, I probably overreacted.”

The word larder summoned up images of Natalie’s mental dive, and she let out a weary breath. “She didn’t agree to take Yara, but she offered to teach me how to help her.”

Frowning, Cole asked, “Oh? What does she want to teach you?”

Wincing but forcing herself not to shy away from the truth, Natalie said. “Mind magic, which she taught me the very basics of.”

Cole stiffened slightly, and Natalie quickly elaborated. “She tried to teach me how to manipulate minds, but I turned her down. I learned how to enter a mind and observe its mechanics but nothing more.”

Sighing, Natalie said. “Pryia wanted me to practice on someone. A rapist, who probably deserved it, but I said no. I need to grow my strengths, but I won’t in certain directions. Too much darkness and too much temptation.”

Large, scarred arms wrapped Natalie up in a hug, and in a soft voice, Cole said, “Thank you.”

Frowning, Natalie asked, “What for?”

Smiling, Cole said, “Being a person I can love and have faith in.”

Natalie felt herself melt into his embrace. “I hope you’ve recovered because the moment your arms get even slightly less comfy, I’m pouncing on you again.”

Smiling wolfishly, Cole said, “Not if I pounce first.”