"The longer she sleeps," Celeste said, "the deeper it takes root."
Magnolia's chest tightened. "What is it? Truly?"
Celeste sighed, lowering herself into the chair beside the bed. Her fingers traced one of the faint scorch marks that still marred the edge of the sheets.
"Power," she said softly. "But not the kind this world was meant to hold. The Ash Line was never supposed to return. That bloodline was cursed for a reason."
Magnolia finally turned toward her. "Because they were too strong?"
"No." Celeste's voice dropped. "Because they were too hungry."
Magnolia frowned. "Hungry for what?"
"For more. Always more."
She gestured vaguely toward Camille. "Power like this, it's seductive. It whispers promises, feeds on fear. It offers control to the ones who feel powerless. That's the curse. The blood doesn't just give; it demands."
Magnolia's stomach churned. "Then how do we stop it?"
Celeste's expression darkened. "You don't. You can only control it. Contain it."
