Chapter 180

Agnes

I insisted that I was fine and didn’t need any help, but Elijah practically carried me back to the house anyway, causing more than a few passersby to stop and stare at the scene. My face heated, although not from some kind of strange magical warmth this time. Now, I was just embarrassed.

“Sit,” he commanded once we reached the kitchen, pointing to a stool at the counter. I perched there obediently while he rushed to the sink, soaking a clean dish towel in cold water before wringing it out and returning to me. “Let me see the damage.”

Taking a deep breath, I held out my hands, palms up. Elijah cursed under his breath, and I bit my lip. The skin was already an angry scarlet, with blisters starting to form on my palms. Elijah gently wrapped the cool cloth around my hands, and I hissed at the contact.

“Sorry,” he murmured as he worked. “We should probably get you to a doctor.”

I shook my head. “There’s no time. The festival starts in a few hours.” I looked down at my injured hands. “Besides, I don’t think this is a normal burn.”

He glanced up at me with a quirked eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“The mug didn’t just break because it was too hot,” I explained, trying to make sense of what had happened. “I felt this... surge inside of me. Like a rush of heat that started in my core and spread outward, all the way to my fingertips. The mug shattered when that heat reached my hands.”

Elijah’s brow furrowed as he carefully examined my burned palms. I knew the realization had dawned on him already. On both of us. “This happened before, didn’t it?” he murmured. “On our honeymoon, under the dock.”

I nodded and glanced at the mark on his neck that was now back to normal. “When I kissed your mate mark. It left a burn.”

“I thought that was just a strange coincidence,” Elijah said, releasing my hands to retrieve a first aid kit from beneath the sink. “But now...”

“Now it’s definitely something else.” I watched as he pulled out burn cream and gauze. “Do you think... could it be my wolf?”

He paused, meeting my eyes. “Your wolf?”

“We know she’s still there, just dormant because of Olivia’s curse,” I said. “What if she’s coming back and this is… I don’t know, some kind of latent power or something?” Being able to control the elements… that would be pretty cool. And a little terrifying.

Elijah blinked at me skeptically, then said, “Enhanced strength, speed, hearing, smell, night vision—those are normal werewolf abilities. But this…” He shook his head. “That would be extremely rare. Elemental abilities haven’t been seen in our kind for generations.”

He was right; many generations ago, there were allegedly wolves who could control the four elements. It was an ancient ability though, one that had long since been bred out once we no longer had need of it anymore. Once you’ve got electricity, cars, running water, and central heat, you don’t have much need for magic.

“But it’s not impossible?” I tilted my head.

“No,” he conceded, carefully applying burn cream to my palms. “Not impossible. Just highly unlikely.”

I winced as the cold medication touched my raw skin. “What else could it be, then?” I recalled the moment the sensation had washed over me, both under the dock and just now. The surge of attraction, almost unbearable, followed by the sudden heat forming on my skin.

He worked in silence for a moment, wrapping my hands in gauze.

“Maybe it is your wolf,” he finally said. “Not some rare ability, but just... her. Maybe as Olivia’s curse weakens, your wolf is trying to break through, and that surge of power is her pushing against whatever’s keeping her trapped.”

That made sense, I supposed. It aligned with the timing—Olivia had been imprisoned for weeks now, unable to maintain whatever spell she’d cast on me. If the curse was fading, my wolf might be getting stronger.

“You know, the first time it happened, we were being intimate,” I pointed out with a tiny smile. “And just now, I was watching you work, thinking about how attractive you are.” I felt my cheeks warm at the admission. “Maybe strong emotions trigger it?”

Elijah finished bandaging my hands and looked up at me, his eyes darkening. “That’s an interesting theory.” His thumb brushed over the inside of my wrist, just below the gauze. “So if I were to kiss you right now...”

My breath hitched, and I smirked. “Keep it up, and we might find out if I’m right.”

His lips quirked into a smile as he leaned in, his hands moving to brush my robe away from my shoulders. When his mouth met mine, I immediately felt that familiar warmth spreading through me—but different from before. Less intense, more controlled.

I melted into him, momentarily forgetting my injured hands as I tried to pull him closer. The dull ache in my palms was nothing compared to the heat building between us.

Elijah broke the kiss first, pulling back slightly to look at me. “Anything?”

I shrugged, feeling suddenly bereft without his closeness but definitely not on fire. “Just the usual horniness.”

He snorted. “Well, maybe you just accidentally gripped the mug too hard and it happened to break,” he suggested. “Werewolf strength and all that.”

“Maybe.” I gnawed on my lower lip for a moment, still perturbed, but decided to push it away for now. The festival would be beginning in just a few hours and I still had to get ready.

Once Elijah returned to his work outside, I headed upstairs to take a bath. It was a bit of a challenge to undress with my injured hands, but I managed, sinking into the warm water with a sigh of relief.

Alone in the bath, I examined my bandaged hands. The gauze was already spotted with pink where the burn cream had mixed with fluid from the blisters. I’d have to be careful today, avoid shaking too many hands or doing anything strenuous, but it would be fine.

As I soaked, my mind wandered back to that moment by the tree. What had triggered the surge? Just looking at Elijah? That seemed too simple. Maybe it was the combination of things—my attraction to him, the anticipation of the festival, the stress of the past few weeks.

Or maybe it really was my wolf, growing stronger as Olivia’s spell weakened. The thought sent a thrill through me. Could my wolf finally be returning after all these years?

I climbed out of the tub carefully, wrapping a towel around myself and padding to the sink. My reflection in the mirror looked tired but determined. Despite everything, today was going to be a success. I would make sure of it.

Once I was dry, I picked out a comfortable pair of trousers and a light sweater, perfect for a day spent outside on my feet. I threw on a little makeup, just enough to hide the dark circles under my eyes, and styled my hair in a simple crown braid that wouldn’t require much maintenance throughout the day.

As I was finishing up, a soft sound from down the hall caught my attention. It was faint, barely audible over the increasing noise from outside, but I’d recognize that sound anywhere.

Thea was crying.

I hurried to her room, knocking lightly on the door. When there was no answer, just another muffled sob, I pushed it open.

“Thea? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Thea was sitting at her small vanity, her back to me. As I stepped into the room, she turned, and I froze in shock.

In one hand, she clutched a pair of scissors. In the other was a large chunk of her beautiful long hair.

“Mommy,” she sobbed, dropping the scissors to the floor with a clatter, “I… I cut my hair!”