Bree
The radio plays something soft between us, filling the space where conversation should be. Jace’s fingers tap against the wheel, but the rhythm’s off—like he’s distracted. Like we both are. The kiss still lingers between us, unspoken but loud in the quiet.
I watch the landscape blur past—fields giving way to trees, farmland dissolving into something wilder. The mist curls against my ankles, restless but not urgent. Waiting.
Something in my chest tightens. Not fear. Something else.
"You're quiet," Jace says, glancing at me sideways. His green eyes catch the morning light, concern threading through the gold flecks I've always loved.
"Just watching," I say, becausethinkingfeels too complicated for what's happening inside me.
Jace's fingers still on the wheel. "Bree—"
That's when Thane's BMW slams on the brakes ahead of us.
The sudden stop makes my breath catch, but not from the jolt. From something else. Something that pulls at the space beneath my sternumbefore I even see what made him stop. His car skids slightly as it veers onto the shoulder, gravel spraying beneath his tires.
"What the hell?" Jace mutters, following suit. Our car rocks slightly as we come to a stop behind Thane's shimmering green BMW—a color that reminds me of something I can't quite place, something that makes my chest tight with recognition.
Through Thane's rear window, I can see his silhouette. Unnaturally still. Staring ahead at something I can't see from here.
My hand is already on the door handle before I realize I'm moving.
"Bree, wait—"
But I can't wait. Something pulls at me like gravity, like recognition.
My feet hit the gravel, and the mist immediately swirls higher, expectant. Behind me, car doors slam—Jace’s voice rising, the others close behind. But they sound muffled, distant. Like I'm hearing them through water.
I approach Thane's driver's side window. He turns toward me, and for a second, his careful mask slips completely. There's something raw in his silver eyes. Something shaken and wondering.
"You okay?" I ask.
"The road decided to surprise me," he says, but his voice carries an edge I've never heard before. Uncertainty. Maybe even awe.
I follow his gaze toward the trees.
At first, I see nothing. Just forest. Just ordinary shadows between ordinary trunks.
And then somehow, I’m walking.
No decision. No thought. Just movement—quiet and inevitable—as if my body knows something my mind doesn’t.
The mist around me rises to meet it, calm and sure.
I don’t look back.
My feet just carry me forward, slow and instinctive, like I’m moving through a dream. Behind me, voices rise—Jace’s footsteps starting after me, then stopping. Others call my name. But they’re distant now, behind the trees and the moment.
The tree line approaches. Each step makes my heart pound harder, but not from fear. It's anticipation coursing through me.
What if this isn't meant for me? What if I'm wrong about everything?
But the mist curls around my ankles like encouragement, and I keep walking.
One step. Another.
And then I cross some invisible threshold, and everything changes.
