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Chapter 81
~Spring’s POV~
The knock on my door was soft but sure. Not the impatient kind, but the kind that let you know soone was coming in, whether you answered or not—typical Rhys.
"Door’s open," I called, already straightening the loose papers on my bed.
Rhys stepped in, dressed neatly in dark jeans and a slate-grey sweater, his coat slung casually over one arm.
His hair was still slightly damp from a recent shower, and the faint scent of eucalyptus trailed in with him.
He looked less like a doctor and more like soone from a tailored magazine shoot—effortlessly calm and infuriatingly polished for soone who probably hadn’t slept more than four hours.
"You decent?" he teased, eyeing the tangled sheets and my laptop, which was still balancing on my knees.
"Nope. ntally? Always indecent," I replied, then gave a small grin as I shut my laptop and moved it aside.
He chuckled and walked further into the room. "I ca to ask if you were still up for that staycation at my place. The offer still stands—bed, peace, and no one screaming about slapping anyone."
I smirked. "Tempting, but I have sowhere I need to be first. Shouldn’t take long."
He raised a brow but didn’t press. "Alright. I need to stop by the hospital anyway. Ergency consultation." He pulled out his phone, checked the ti, then looked back at with a small frown. "But after that, I’ll co back to get you. Deal?"
"Deal."
"And until then..." He pointed at as he moved toward my dresser and leaned against it. "Stay out of trouble. Lay low. Avoid emotionally unstable sisters and mothers who enjoy playing God."
I gave a mock salute. "Yes, Doctor Rhys."
His lips twitched in amusent, but then his gaze softened. "Have you seen Rose or Mum since the... situation yesterday?"
I shook my head slowly. "No. I stayed in my room last night. Didn’t even go down for dinner. Haven’t heard a sound from their end either."
Rhys sighed, the weight of responsibility in his shoulders growing visible again. "Probably for the best." He checked his watch, then looked at with slight disapproval. "It’s already past ten in the morning."
"Okay..."
"Have you eaten?"
"...I was going to," I lied, terribly.
Rhys narrowed his eyes like he could read the half-truth between my eyebrows. "Spring."
"I just didn’t feel like—"
"No." He held up a hand. "No explanations. I already ordered food. It’ll be brought up in ten. I told the kitchen you are not allowed to skip a al."
My heart ward at that. He was strict, yes, but it was the kind that wrapped around you like a blanket—firm, not suffocating.
"Thanks," I said softly, looking down.
He stepped forward then, ca around the bed, and sat beside . The mattress dipped under his weight, and I adjusted the laptop to give him space. He didn’t speak for a mont. Just held my hand gently in his, his thumb brushing across my knuckles like he was trying to soothe a wound he couldn’t see.
"For you, Spring," he said after a pause, his voice low but filled with conviction, "I will go to war with anyone—family, council, the whole damn pack—so long as you stay true to that heart of yours."
My throat tightened. I wanted to tell him how much that ant. How deeply his faith in sank into places that had long been left hollow. But the words caught, trapped sowhere between gratitude and guilt.
"I’ll try," I whispered instead. "I really will."
He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead—warm, brotherly, and grounding.
"Good," he murmured. "Because there’s only one Spring Kaine, and the world’s finally starting to see why we’ve been fighting for you all this ti."
I blinked back the sudden sting in my eyes. "Till later?"
He rose to his feet and smiled. "Definitely, little storm."
With that, he turned and walked to the door, pausing briefly to glance back at one last ti—like he wanted to be sure I was alright, even if I said I was.
And in that small glance, I felt it again—protection like Spring once had.
I watched the door close softly behind him, my chest full of a soft kind of warmth. A peace that wasn’t loud or flashy.
And I’d take that over empty apologies any day.
***************
Later that Saturday, I set off before the sky could fully break into gold. The directions I’d gathered from that last data trace were vague, like the trail had been deliberately fragnted.
But I was used to that now, following threads that most couldn’t even see.
After a long ride and a brief hike, I arrived at the edge of a woodland trail that sloped into a denser forest.
The air slled heavier here, more primal, like it hadn’t been touched by city wind in years. The map said I was close.
Too close.
It wasn’t until I passed a crooked wooden signpost, half-buried in moss, that I noticed sothing odd.
There were no birds, no rustle, just stillness and a slow, steady pressure, like the air itself was watching.
I glanced around, swallowed and clenched my fist as I kept going, each step slower than the last. The path curved around a ridge, and when I finally reached the crest, I saw it.
The house, if you could still call it that.
It sat slouched and tiworn at the foot of a wild hill, draped in ivy and barely standing.
Its roof was half-collapsed. The porch was sunken. The fence was more suggestion than structure. But there was sothing wrong with it, too.
Sothing that made my spine hum.
Part of wanted to turn around. Walk away. Pretend I’d seen nothing.
But then it happened.
A sharp chi—like soone struck a bell inside my skull—rang through my ears, and I froze mid-step.
"Sothing’s here," Jade whispered from within , her voice calm but alert. "Old magic. Hidden."
I stood still, blinking as the air shimred slightly ahead of .
A barrier.
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