Mysteri 155 - Bloodbound to the lycan king

155 Grace: Arcana (II)

“It’s… moving,” I say, surprised. “I can feel it traveling up my arms,

“Good,” Lyre says. “That’s the arcana being absorbed. Can you see its path?”

I concentrate harder, focusing on the sensation rather than trying to visualize anything. And then-

“Oh!”

There it is. Not golden threads this time, but something more like… streams? Veins filled with liquid light pulsing up from my palms, branching through my arms. They’re not as distinct as what I saw with Caine, more like impressions of light beneath my

skin:

Wait. I can see my arms. They’re definitely my arms; I know it down to the marrow in my bones. But it doesn’t ilook /ilike my arms. If anything, it’s simr to the faint outline of light when I’d “seen” our handsst night….

“I can see it,” I breathe. “Not like before. It’s faint. But it looks like little rivers under

skin.”

“That’s because you’re absorbing it directly. What you saw with Caine was arcana in transit–energy moving between bodies, through structured channels. This is arcanal bing part of you.”

If only I could really understand what Lyre’s saying. Again, it isn’t as if the words are foreign, but the concept seems beyond what I can truly wrap my mind around.

The light spreads further, tiny rivulets reaching my elbows, my biceps, creeping toward my

ders. It feels… good. Like a shot of caffeine without the jitters, or the satisfaction of stretching after sitting too long. My body hums with it.

“This feels different than with Caine,” I say, my eyes still closed, tracking the progress of the light.

“I imagine it would. There’s a smirk in her voice. “Arcana expression varies widely based on the source and the… circumstances.”

My cheeks heat again. “That’s not what I meant.”

156 Grace Arcana (11)

“Of course not. But differences are important to note. The arcana byou’re /babsorbin what I’ve already refined. What flows between you and Caine bis /bwild, bing /bstraigh from your source. Both are valid expressions of power, but they’re vastly different application.”

The light has reached my chest now. I can feel It spreading outward from bmy /bbsternum/b, little branches of warmth extending between my ribs. It feels like my entire torso bis /bfilling with gentle sunlight.

“It’s everywhere, I murmur. “Is it supposed to spread this much?”

There’s a pause thatsts a beat too longb. /b

“Lyre?”

“Open your eyes, Grace.”

I do, blinking against the sudden influx of normal light. The ball above my palms has shrunk to half its original size, but what catches my attention is Lyre’s expression- eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly anxious.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says, but her tone suggests something unexpected is happening. “You’re absorbing it much faster than you should be able to. Most beginners take hours to process that much arcana. You’ve taken half of it in minutes.”

I look down at the diminished ball of light. “Is that… bad?”

“Not bad. Just unusual.” She tilts her head, studying me with those unnerving slitted eyes. “You’re hungry for it.”

The way

she says it makes me ufortable, like I’ve been caught doing something shameful. “I’m just doing what you said.”

“I know. It’s not a criticism. If anything, it’s good for you. Of course, had I known earlier… well, never mind.” She gestures toward my hands. “Continue. I want to see how quickly you can take in the rest.”

I focus on the remaining light, and this time, instead of just observing, I find myself wanting to pull it in faster. The warmth is addictive, the feeling of strength and lightness it brings intoxicating.

155 bGrace/b: Arcana (II)

The ball shrinks rapidly now, streams of light flowing into my palms like water down bat /bdrain. Ten seconds, and it’s gonepletely.

“Impressive,” Lyre says.

The energy thrums through me, making me feel jittery, powerful. I flex my fingers, half expecting sparks to fly from them.

“Now what? Do I… do something with it?”

“No. It will disperse on its ownb./b”

Then she leans forward and rubs my head, like I’m a cat. “Good girl.”

A warm, pleasant sensation washes through me, like liquid sunshine spreading from the crown of my head down through my shoulders. It’sforting and gentle, almost maternal.

I jerk back, my exasperation cutting through the pleasant feeling. “Could you not treat me like a pet?”

Lyre’s lips quirk into a small smile, her slitted eyes studying me with amusement. “Did

you

feel it?” She tilts her head. “Nob?/b”

I blink at her, confused. “Feel what?”

“That.” She flicks her fingers vaguely in my direction, mild exasperation coloring her voice. “I just transferred a smidgen of arcana into you with my touch.”

My mouth falls open. “That was–I thought that was just… a feeling. Like, emotion.” Kind of like a rush of affection toward an older sister.

“No. That was arcana.” Her smile edges towards predatory now. “This is what an Anchor can do to others. A single touch, and you can have someone on their knees, desperate for another.

Every time I’d brushed against Caine–every idental touch, every deliberate contact -had I been affecting him? The way he looks at me sometimes, like he’s drowning and I’m air… is that because of what I am?

Lyre straightens suddenly and points a finger at me with a stern frown. “Stop overthinking. Whatever you’re thinking now, you’re probably wrong.

155 Grace: Arcana (1)

I bite at my lip and try to shove the Intrusive thoughts away, “Okay

Of course it’s wrong. It has to be wrong. She’s already exined that we are fated mates, so being an Anchor should have nothing to do with it.

I suck in a deep breath. Yeah. No overthinking.

“Are you…” I clear my throat, a little embarrassed when my voice croaks. “Sorry. Are you also an Anchor?”

She snorts. “No. An Echo Witch is not an Anchor”

“What’s an Echo Witch, then?”

“I’ll exin another day, maybe. When usibility allows it. But more importantly…” She looks at her phone with a sigh as it buzzes on the table. “We have work to do.”