Revealed (Unbound, Book 5)

Chapter Fifty-Three

My mind wouldn't turn off.

Throughout supper, I remained introspective. Calin and Islene gave up asking me questions when all I had were monosyllabic responses. My appetite vanished. I pushed my food around, nearly cheering when they finally said they were done.

Though I wasn't sociable, I was still useful. I kicked them both out of the kitchen and used the solitude to think as I cleaned. In my mind, I created a mental pro and con list. My grandfather had uprooted his life and disavowed the Council. He didn't say he cut himself off magic, but he certainly hadn't embraced it.

I loved my abilities, but that hadn't always been true. At one point, there were only cons. Now, there were many positives, like feeling connected to my mom and those I hadn't met. It would break my heart, but the only con I could think of now—aside from how Maible acted with access to magic and Duvessa's abuse of it—was the fact that it attracted problems. Even if it wasn't the problem such as Astrid wanting our land, people abused magic to find solutions.

People kept getting hurt, and I couldn't bind everyone.

Would not having abilities absolve me of those issues?

Trevor certainly wouldn't have been able to trick me to think he was Calin without magic, nor would he have had anyone but Astrid pulling his strings. I didn't know if that would have prevented what he'd done, but he definitely wouldn't have had as much incentive from the mystery person wanting my abilities.

I wouldn't have to feel obligated to help the missing boy without them. I also wouldn't make Maible jealous—she'd have all the power. I would finally know if what I felt for Calin was real. Magic didn't make us soulmates, but the power in our blood could have connected us.

If I didn't have magic, that would be a non-issue.

I rinsed the last dish and set it in the drying rack, and drained the sink. Giving my head a shake, I discarded the thoughts and dried my hands. With a sigh, I set the tea towel on the handle of the stove and quietly made my way upstairs.

Instead of going to my room, I went into my mother's office to finish my project and closed the door. I turned on my favourite playlist, then placed my phone on do not disturb so calls and texts couldn't get through for an hour.

The final touches were mindless, requiring just enough concentration so I couldn't dwell on the fear of being alone.

For a little while, the rest of the world—and all its problems—disappeared.

*****

The ringing of my phone pulled me from my solitude nearly two hours later. I knew I should have kept my notifications silenced until I was ready to be sociable, but it was too late. Knowing someone was trying to reach me made it impossible not to grab my phone from beside me on the floor to check who it was.

Nancy.

With a sigh, I sat back and swiped to make the connection. "Hello?

"Nora? Oh, my God! You're awake!"

"And you're loud."

"Oh. Right. I'm sorry. I was blasting music earlier to wake you-know-who, but all it did was make me talk like nobody can hear me."

"It's fine, Nance." I rested one hand behind me and looked up, craning my neck first one way and then the other to work out the kinks that had settled while I was hunched over my project. "What's up?"

"How are you?"

"Ha!" I shook my head. After ignoring her comment about he-who-shall-not-be-named, I'd hope she would get the hint to avoid asking her follow-up, but I answered her call, so I couldn't pretend like I hadn't heard her direct question. "I've been better, I guess."