Josie
The mont Kiel’s voice poured into the air, everything inside ca alive. It was like sothing ancient within rembered how to breathe again. His lody wasn’t just a sound—it was a pulse, a vibration that threaded through my bones, through the soil beneath my feet, and into the wild rhythm of the world itself.
I could feel it—this connection, this strange, sacred harmony linking to him, to the earth, to the whispers of the unseen. It was overwhelming and beautiful all at once. My chest ached, not from pain but from the sheer power of it, as if I had been holding my breath for years and was finally exhaling.
As Kiel sang, the air thickened with warmth. It wrapped around like invisible hands, gentle yet commanding. His eyes found mine briefly, shimring like sunlight glinting off steel. That one look—steady, confident, sure—ignited sothing in that I’d buried under fear and guilt.
And then I felt it—my magic, my essence, reaching out to et his song.
It unfurled like wings inside , stretching after being caged too long. I gasped as my fingertips tingled, faint golden threads of energy rippling from my palms and kissing the earth below. My knees weakened, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
I closed my eyes and whispered, so softly at first that even I could barely hear it, "Grow."
The grass around stirred in response, bending as if to listen. My heart hamred in my chest. "Please... grow again," I said, my voice trembling. "I’m sorry for hurting you before."
A tear slid down my cheek. I didn’t know if I was apologizing to the grass, to myself, or to every living thing I’d wounded in my panic—but it didn’t matter. The mont the words left my lips, the soil shifted beneath .
The tiny blades of green began to unfurl, trembling before they stretched outward, spreading like waves in motion.
Kiel’s voice rose, rich and powerful, and I felt the sound fuse with my heartbeat. The vibration built inside until it wasn’t just power anymore—it was life. It was creation.
I inhaled deeply, and the magic answered, swirling through my veins like liquid light. It burned, but in the sweetest way—like every part of was being rewritten by sothing purer, older, truer.
"Kiel," I gasped. "It’s happening."
His voice wavered for only a second, but he didn’t stop singing. His free hand reached for , steadying when my knees nearly buckled. I looked down in disbelief.
The field was transforming.
Where there had once been dry patches of earth, there was now vibrant green, spreading rapidly outward, racing toward the far edges of the clearing. The grass multiplied under my hands, each blade shining like erald silk beneath the sunlight.
My breath hitched. My pulse stuttered.
This was real.
I wasn’t destroying anymore. I was creating.
Kiel’s song grew louder, more intense. His voice carried on the wind, threading through my hair and over my skin, commanding to push further. My body trembled from the force of it. Every muscle in burned, but I didn’t care.
I wanted to keep going—to prove that I wasn’t the monster everyone feared I’d beco.
The ground pulsed, light shimring just beneath the soil as if the earth itself was responding to my heartbeat. I whispered again, "Thank you."
The magic flared.
It coursed through so powerfully that I let out a small cry. It wasn’t pain—it was too much energy, too much life. I couldn’t contain it. My knees gave way, but before I hit the ground, strong arms caught .
Kiel.
He was there, holding close, his voice finally quieting. His breath was ragged, his forehead damp with sweat. For a mont, we just stayed that way—his heartbeat thudding against mine, the newly reborn field swaying around us in soft, silent applause.
I sobbed quietly against his chest. "I did it..."
His hand slid through my hair, soothing and sure. "You did," he whispered, disbelief mingling with pride in his tone. "I can’t believe it, Josie. You actually did it."
I tilted my head up, my vision blurry with tears, and managed a small, trembling smile. "I wasn’t ant to destroy things after all."
He stared at for a long mont, and then nodded slowly. "No," he murmured. "You weren’t."
That silence between us stretched, heavy with unspoken thoughts. The only sound was the whisper of the wind brushing through the grass I’d just brought to life.
I felt drained, yet light—as if part of had been made whole again.
Kiel helped to the edge of the field, where we sat, side by side, watching the wind dance across the blades. For once, it wasn’t chaos I felt—it was peace. The kind that wrapped around the soul like a warm blanket.
The sky had softened into hues of gold and lilac. I let the wind play with my hair, breathing in the scent of fresh earth.
Kiel hadn’t said a word in minutes. He just sat there, staring at the horizon, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable.
Sothing in his stillness made uneasy.
I turned to him, nudging his arm gently. "What’s wrong?" I asked softly. "You look like you’re about to tell sothing I won’t like."
He exhaled slowly, his eyes flicking to before drifting away again. "I need to tell you sothing," he admitted finally.
My stomach twisted. "What is it?"
He hesitated, raking a hand through his hair, his voice lower when he spoke again. "I think soone’s been manipulating your powers."
I blinked, confusion giving way to dread. "What do you an?"
"Back that night," he said quietly, "when you drew the moon so close to the pack—it wasn’t all you, Josie."
My pulse quickened. "No... no, that can’t be. I felt it. I know I did that."
"You did," Kiel said, turning to face now, his gaze firm. "But soone—or sothing—was amplifying it. Twisting it. You weren’t in control of how far it went. That’s why it felt... unnatural."
My breath hitched. I wanted to argue, to deny it, but the mory of that night slamd into like a wave—the way my magic had spun out of control, the terror that had clawed at my chest when I couldn’t stop it.
"Liam isn’t here," I whispered, almost to myself. "He’s gone."
Kiel’s jaw clenched. "If the witch who worked with him is still around, then Liam is too. He hides in shadows, Josie. You know that. He’s never really gone."
The air around seed to grow colder. My fingers trembled as I clutched my knees. "You think he’s still watching ? Manipulating ?"
Kiel nodded slowly. "That’s what I’m afraid of."
Fear coiled in my stomach, cold and sharp. I looked out at the field—the life I had just created—and the thought that soone could twist it, use it against , made feel sick.
"What do we do then?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He turned to , his expression hardening with quiet resolve. "We find him," he said. "We fish him out before he gets another chance to hurt you. He’s not going to control you again, Josie. Not while I’m here."
Sothing in his tone made my heart stutter. There was no hesitation, no doubt. Just fierce, unwavering determination.
I swallowed hard, searching his eyes for even a flicker of uncertainty—but there was none. Just that familiar protective fire that always made feel both safe and guilty at once.
I wanted to thank him. I wanted to believe him. But fear still gnawed at the edges of my thoughts. What if Liam was closer than we realized? What if he was the whisper behind my nightmares, the invisible hand tugging at my magic whenever it spiraled out of control?
Kiel reached out suddenly, his fingers brushing against my cheek. "Hey," he murmured. "Don’t look so scared."
I tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. "You make it sound so simple."
"It’s not simple," he said softly. "But we’ll handle it. I promise you that."
He cupped my face fully now, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of dried tears. His touch was grounding, steadying. "He’s not going to harm us again," he said. "Not if I have anything to say about it."
I closed my eyes for a mont, letting the weight of his words settle into . For a fleeting second, I almost believed that everything would be okay—that the past could finally stop haunting .
But before I could say anything more, Kiel’s expression changed.
His pupils dilated slightly, his body going tense. I recognized that look instantly—he was mind-linking.
"Kiel?" I whispered, my heart leaping into my throat. "What’s wrong?"
His gaze flickered back to , though it seed distant, unfocused. "It’s Varen," he said. "He’s asking where we are."
A nervous flutter rose in my chest. "Why? Did sothing happen?"
Kiel shook his head quickly. "No," he assured , though I could see the faint crease between his brows. "Nothing’s wrong. He’s just... checking in."
I tried to relax, but my pulse wouldn’t slow. The calm we’d built here felt fragile now, like glass ready to shatter.
Kiel reached for my hand, giving it a small squeeze. "Don’t worry," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "There’s no problem. He just wants to know where we are."
I nodded, though the unease didn’t leave .
He stood, dusting the dirt from his pants, then offered his hand. "Co on," he said gently. "We should head back before they start thinking we ran off."
I hesitated for a mont, glancing back at the field one last ti. The grass swayed in the fading light, alive and perfect. It felt like proof that I wasn’t broken.
As I placed my hand in Kiel’s and rose to my feet, I whispered silently to the earth, Thank you.
And then, together, we turned toward the path leading ho.
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