Page 44 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

Condorr snorted. “That’s not an answer, man.”

“When Zarek’s magick encounters a living will strong enough to stand inside that space,” Bellus continued, “the magick reacts first. The Claiming doesn’t act on the person—it acts through their magick. It’s not a spell cast from outside. It’s recognition from within.”

Martar frowned. “Recognition of what?”

Bellus swallowed and shrugged. “Of…equality with bonds and fated partnerships, only different?”

“I still don’t get it.” Condorr shrugged his beefy shoulders, the leather straining to contain the bulk.

“Until the body understands what the magick has recognized,” Bellus read out, “the power acts alone.”

Rocharde’s fingers fiddled with his gold earring. “Like Zarek’s magick is now a separate entity?” He glanced at Martar. “Like if your ice stopped listening to you. And Zarek’s fire—”

“—could burn the world,” Bellus finished.

“It already is,” Condorr muttered, his chair groaning again as he shifted. “That explains the warning our captain dropped on us just before.”

“That was a territorial surge,” Gellar murmured. “A threat we all felt.”

Condorr leaned forward. “You’re saying that wasn’t Zarek warning us, but his magick? His suit glowed. And I know, when those staves glow, it’s a warning to back the hell up and fast.”

“No, that wasn’t against us. Zarek wouldn’t do that,” Bellus said quietly. “That was instinct. I believe it was Zarek’s magick reacting to keep everyone away from her. Like it’s claimed this female, and it will kill to do it.”

Rocharde frowned. “Zarek has always had control. Even at his worst.”

“Which is precisely why this is so dangerous,” Gellar said with a frown that he didn’t even hide.

The Hidden Hall of Histories again stirred with movement. More pages fluttered along the shelves, as though unseen hands from the ancestors searched for answers and another book fell open onto the floor.

Bellus picked it up and read: “The Claiming does not ask permission. It assumes the instinct of prime survival before trust. And until then, everyone else becomes a potential threat.”

Martar’s head snapped up. “Including us?”

“Especially you, being so popular with the women,” Bellus said, pushing up his glasses. “Until the claim is answered—bonded or broken—the claiming male exists in a constant state of readiness. Heightened aggression. Obsessive focus. He’ll remain in a readied protective violence over the… claimed.”

“What in the realms?” Condorr muttered.

“And the female?” Martar asked.

Bellus hesitated. “She is insulated. Shielded….” His finger traced down the page. “It seems that his magick will bend around her. Think of it like this: it’s his magick, the power of the flame, that has claimed the female as theirs—”

“Mine. Our captain used the word Mine. We all heard it,” said Rocharde.

“Pfft, you mean we all felt it,” mumbled Condorr.

“But it wasn’t Zarek.” Bellus pushed up his glasses to resume reading. “It’s his magick that is protective over this female.”

“Whether she wants it or not?” Martar pressed.

“Well, consent matters, I guess.” Bellus shared a meek shrug as he tapped the open pages. “But from what I can tell, the Claiming won’t wait for it, not now it’s been unleashed. It’s already chosen who they… claim.”

Gellar leaned forward. “What happens if she rejects him?”

Bellus traced a line on the page and read from a list. “The instability worsens. Sleep disruption. Obsession. Loss of hierarchy. Loss of restraint.”

“So he becomes miserable?” Rocharde scoffed.

“It’s a slow unraveling of everything,” Bellus replied, “where he will put her before all others.”