4

The image, even today, remained branded within my brain. I had to continue. Picking up the story where I’d left off, I typed…

I was surrounded, trapped, with nowhere to run. But I had to try. With a deep breath, I pushed myself to my feet, my hands shaking. I had one chance, one spell, one hope of escape. The words of the protection incantation flew from my lips, the power building in my palms. I had to make this count. The alpha lunged, and I threw the spell at him. The world around me grew brighter, and I felt a sudden rush of warmth. And then, everything went black.

When I came to, the sun was high in the sky, and I was lying in a heap in the middle of the clearing. The werewolves were gone, the forest eerily quiet once more. I sat up, my body aching from the fall, and looked around. My basket was shredded, the contents scattered. Javaleen was going to be furious, but I couldn’t think about that now. I had to get back to the safety of the coven.

Fear rushing through me, I picked myself up, brushed the dirt from my clothes, and started running again. Each step felt heavier than the last, my legs like lead. I stumbled through the underbrush, my thoughts racing. How had they not killed me? Why did they let me live?

The sun had reached its peak, and its rays filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. I was so focused on the path ahead, on getting back, that I didn’t notice the figure standing in the shadows until it was too late. A hand grabbed my arm, and I spun around, ready to fight. But it was not a wolf that had found me; it was Redakai.

His cold eyes studied me with a mix of anger and something else. Something I couldn’t quite place. His grip tightened, and he yanked me closer.

“What were you doing out here for so long?” he growled, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight. The coldness of his tone sent shivers down my spine.

“Gathering herbs,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “For Javaleen’s potion. I-I’m sorry. I know I’m late. I just—”

He cut me off with a sharp tug. “You should not have been out here alone. Not today. Not when the Olympus’ are so close.”

His grip softened, and for a brief moment, I saw something in his eyes that I had never seen before: concern. But it was quickly replaced with annoyance once again. “You’re lucky they didn’t catch you.”

His gaze raked over me, looking for any sign of injury, his eyes narrowing at seeing the bruises forming from my fall.

I tried to pull away, but his grasp was too firm. “They chased me. But I got away. I—”

“You’re covered in dirt and smell of fear. Exactly what happened?” His voice was low, the edge of a threat in his words.

I swallowed hard, stuttering out, “They surrounded me. But I-I cast a protection spell, and they backed off. I don’t know why, or what happened afterward, for I passed out, but they just left me here…unharmed.”

At my words, Redakai’s gaze searched the clearing, his nostrils flaring. He was looking for something, some sign of what had happened. And when his eyes found it, his expression grew darker. A single flower lay at the edge of the clearing, crushed and mangled. The same flower that had been in my basket before I had dropped it. The same flower that was my reason to be in the forest.

He looked back at me, his eyes piercing. “It’s ruined.”

I stumbled over my words, trying to explain. “It-it was an accident. I swear, I didn’t mean to—”

But he wasn’t listening. Instead, his grip tightened, and he pulled me along with him, his strides long and fast as we left the clearing behind.

The soft sigh of my air conditioner kicking on pulled me back, anchoring me in the present. My office was dim, shadows creeping in from the corners, familiar yet suffocating after what I’d just relived. I pressed my palms flat against the desk, grounding myself, but my chest still felt tight as if the weight of centuries clung to me.

The memory wouldn’t let go. The scent of smoke, the sharp bite of Redakai’s voice, the pull of his presence…all of it lingered, more vivid than any dream had a right to be. I curled my fingers into my palms, staring at nothing, and whispered into the stillness, “Why do I feel this is so urgent?”

The silence didn’t answer. I could almost imagine him there, watching, waiting, reminding me that distance was only an illusion when it came to him.

Sleep wouldn’t come easily I knew. Not with the taste of the past still clinging to me. Not with the awareness that the city itself felt like it had shifted, drawn closer to the man I could neither escape nor forget, but I needed rest.

Moments later, after slipping beneath my covers, I closed my eyes, steadying my breath, and let the darkness press in. Tomorrow would come whether I wanted it or not. And when it did, I knew the lines between memory and reality would blur even further.