I remained put as I had promised to Grigore and, while I wasn't plagued by magic-induced nightmares as I slept, it was broken up by panicked starts whenever I convinced myself Grigore was hurt or dead. My magic comforted me every time, its thread to Grigore never cutting, showing me his strength as clear as day. Eventually I just couldn't go to sleep however and lay buried in blankets, staring at the cracked grey logs and simmering embers of the fireplace. I worried quietly when he didn't come at dawn. I thought he had been hurt, even as my magic remained still, only stirred up by worry of the dog, but he eventually came.
I looked sharply at the ragged door when I heard the door bang. I smiled in relief at the scent of woodsmoke, pleased he had finally come back, but that vanished as soon as I wrenched open the door and saw his stormy eyes and frustrated frown.
Grigore didn't say anything at first. He just loomed in the doorway, his gaze hooded and his jaw tight. I knew something had happened. Something bad.
He gently pushed me back into the room and kicked the door shut before making his way to slump in the chair. I followed him quietly, my footsteps light against the rough wood, and pulled the blanket tighter over my shift.
"The dog managed to get through the fires last night." Grigore said after a moment. He watched me carefully, waiting for a reaction.
My face just paled. "How? It's harmless in the light."
"It's worked out its strong enough to destroy walls and throw trees. It tore down the walls of a barn once it had knocked down a few torches. It slaughtered a whole heard of sheep and several cows." He said grimly.
"That's not what you want to tell me."
Grigore paused, pressing his elbows into his thighs as he leaned forward. "There were two houses on the outskirts that still had families living inside. It managed to destroy their homes and chase them into the open. It at them."
I felt guilt thickly filling me. I was shaking a little. "Families?"
His eyes watched my face warily, constantly flickering over my features. "Two. Five adults and seven children."
Children. My throat closed. "Why did it do that? It's never done that before." I asked numbly.
"It was desperate and angry. It still can't get to Lillith and you're in a place with much too much light."
"It's all because it knows there's two Sources, isn't it?" I asked. I felt my eyes stinging. I didn't want to save a mother and child just to have several more die in their place.
Grigore was hesitant in his response. I could see his eyes were concerned. He didn't want to answer me. "It is." He eventually admitted. "I expected it to become more violent."
A sob forced itself out before unwanted tears began to fall. "I didn't want that." I said as I pressed the heel of my palms against my eyes. "I didn't want them to die. I didn't mean to kill them."
"You didn't kill them." Grigore said firmly, watching me cry rigidly, his fingers flexing.
"I did. If I had listened to you and not gone out, the dog wouldn't know I was here. It wouldn't have become desperate." I choked. "I got those families killed."
Grigore's breath came out in a sharp hiss and he stood roughly, striding to loom over me. His gloved hands roughly pushed my own away from my face, pressing his palms against my cheeks and forcing me to look at him. I wanted to hide. I felt so guilty, so ashamed. I should've kept my promise to him, not tried to act like a hero. The horrible feelings just got stronger whenever I looked at his grey eyes. They held such affection and hard determination. I had to squeeze my eyes shut.

YOU ARE READING
The Weaver's Source
FantasyLyra has been waiting for her Weaver to find her for years, unable to leave the safety of her home and only connected to him through passionate dreams - remembering nothing about him apart from his wild, sensual song. When the lone Weaver Grigore f...