The Weaver's Source

Chapter 53

I blushed a little, recalling the deep mix of rage and fear I'd felt in him and the way he'd embrace me so tightly, almost as if he was clinging onto me.

"I didn't mean to but I wanted to help those people." I murmured.

"And you did right. Yes, you were in far graver danger than normal because of the dog and it was very risky to go anywhere near it but you did well in fighting it off. You used your head, the one weapon you have. Keep on as you are and you may become able to fight off monsters yourself one day."

I smiled, a little embarrassed by her praise.

"But, like Grigore, I'm concerned by what it will do now. It knows you, another Source, is here. It'll be even more desperate than before." She said with a growing frown. "Grigore needs more magic if he's to keep us safe." She gave me a hard look. "Tell me honestly. Is he your Weaver?"

I was hesitant in my response, not wanting to show her the trouble between us, but she was the only woman I knew who could maybe help me soothe his fears away.

"He is." I murmured, recalling how I first met him, how his song just swamped me seductively and my magic filled me. Everything about him just pulled me to him; his strength, his rough masculinity, his broad frame and hands that would swallow mine.

Lillith didn't seem fazed by my answer. "And yet he refuses you?"

"He does."

She looked quite confused. "Now that's worrying. No Weaver in his right mind would deny his Source." She leaned back in her chair heavily. "It explains why he refuses to use any magic from you or touch your skin. Oh, this is a problem." Lillith stood and turned to the oven to take the bread that was on the brink of burning. "Lyra, something is wrong with Grigore. I don't know what it is but I have never heard of a Weaver denying his Source."

"I know what it is." I said softly, my cheeks turning red. "Grigore doesn't react well to my magic. He thinks it's controlling him and struggles to separate it from him. He just needs space and time."

Lillith waved her hand dismissively. "Lyra, that's perfectly normal. My Jon took time to adjust to my presence and what I made him feel unwillingly, he rejected me also, but he was open to accepting me after the first feeding." My face burned sharply, knowing full well what feeding entailed, but she didn't pay any mind to it. "Has he fed?"

My blush deepened as I recalled the crooked house and our frantic embrace and his rough demanding mouth. "Yes."

"And yet he still told me you weren't his." Lillith sucked at her teeth with irritation. "He knows, Lyra. He knows you're his. He'll be feeling it, especially the less magic he has. He's likely having sexual dreams of you, your song will likely be addictive to him and the magic will warp his vision of you, making you attractive to him." She smiled at how deeply red I was and virtually hiding behind my hands at her words. When she painted it so obviously, I couldn't ignore it, and the idea he was dreaming of me like I did of him just made me want to hide and made my heart roar in my ears.

"But he doesn't want that." I stammered. "He doesn't want to be controlled by my magic. He doesn't want to be forced to want me."

"And as I said, that's perfectly normal. It's overwhelming for the male half at first. We Sources grow up with it and it becomes second nature to have something influencing our decision and feelings. The men don't have that luxury. Some do it better than others but all accept it in the end as the bond is woven. No doubt you've felt it, a connection to him."

I nodded shyly. "I have. My magic reacts to him in a way it has never done to anyone else and I can feel this pull to him." I rubbed my pink eye, trying my best to be as candid as she was. It didn't seem to bother Lillith at all. "Sometimes it gets worse though and I just want to...touch him." I stammered. "It burns my hands"

"That's your magic telling you to feed him. Magic is passed through the contact of skin so it fuels sexual attraction between its two hosts to get them touch." Lillith explained softly. "Whenever your magic stirs and fuels attraction to Grigore, it's because its reacting to his hunger. His magic is low and it wants him strong."

It suddenly made sense. When we were at the crooked house, Grigore had been finding my song pulling him in, calling to him, and my magic was in his head constantly, making him angry at me and feeling trapped, yet when we left after he was strong again he was fine. It was because he was virtually starved, which, as I recalled the magic stirring yesterday morning, meant something similar was happening now. He was starting to get hungry.

"That connection will grow stronger with every touch and transfusion of magic. Eventually, you'll not be able to live without him and do anything to keep him alive." Lillith said as she checked over the bread. "I accepted who Jon was and what was expected of me the moment I laid eyes on him. I acted as his Source only out of duty at first, feeding him in whatever way it demanded, but the magic, the situation of it, it changes your views. More often than not a Weaver and Source will be paired romantically." She gave me a long look, observing my red face. "As you've fed him once, that bond has already begun to weave."

I felt deeply flustered at her blunt comment. Love. I shoved it aside, trying not to look at it and how it made me feel. I kept recalling what the fairy had said back in Arthur's twisted house. The magic would manipulate me and my emotions, to make me feel connected to Grigore. A fake love. It wouldn't be real.

I shook the despondent thought away and focused on Lillith.

"Talk to Grigore." She ordered.

My eyes widened in shock. "What? I can't. That's impossible."

"Why?"

"He's not one to open up and tends to bite my head off when I try."

"Then let him. He won't hurt you and his threats would be empty. Harming you is the one thing he would rather die than actually do." Lillith said firmly. "Grigore is your Weaver and something dire is stopping him from accepting you. If he's fed from you once yet still pretends you're not his and would rather starve himself when faced with a black dog such as the one roaming these lands than accept you, then it's not just simply him struggling to adjust. It's up to you to find out what it is and resolve it."

I knew she was right. But the idea of asking Grigore about such a thing was terrifying. His glares alone made me stop asking.

"You have to, Lyra. Grigore needs you and your magic." Lillith said with narrow hard eyes. "The way Grigore is going right now, he'll only get himself and you killed. He's too reckless."

I didn't want to but I saw no other option.

"I will." I promised.

I just hoped this didn't go terribly wrong.