Roxie's POV
The house was killing itself, and it was going to take everyone I loved with it.
I felt it in my bones before my mind caught up. The deep groan of stone above us, the slow shift of beams that had stood for forty years, the way the air itself seemed to lean as the weight of the whole pack house began to tip into the place where its supports used to be. Dust poured down in steady sheets. A great oak rafter cracked somewhere above the hearth with a sound like a gunshot.
And then I did the thing that should have been impossible.
I threw both my hands up over my head and I *pushed*.
Not at the walls. Not at the beams. At the air itself, at the ley line running deep under the house, at everything Vespera's borrowed memories knew about holding. The silver flooded out of me in a
