I turn, finally remembering I’m not alone, and find them all standing at the edge of the trees.
Five figures watching in silence, caught between shadow and sunlight.
Even Thane looks shaken, his usual composure cracked enough to show something raw underneath.
Stellan stands apart, unreadable as always, but his gaze is steady. Focused entirely on me—like he’s seeing something he expected but wasn’t ready to face.
The mist drifts between the trunks behind me, curling upward like a quiet invitation.
I don’t feel distant from them. Just… shifted.
Like something old and quiet has seen me, and I don’t quite fit where I stood before.
I take one more step toward the deeper forest.
The trees adjust, letting light spill through in narrow beams. The path behind me glows faintly, like memory, like breath.
And in the hush that follows, I don’t hear words.
Just a feeling.
Something familiar.
Maybe I wasn’t just meant to find this place.
Maybe it’s been waiting to find me, too
Chapter 21
Rhett
She turns back toward us, and I forget how to breathe.
The mist pools around her feet like liquid starlight, and the path she just walked shimmers faintly—like the forest is still glowing from her touch somehow. Her hair catches the filtered light, dark waves framing a face I’ve memorized a thousand times—but somehow, it looks different now. Changed.
God, she’s never looked more beautiful.
And then reality crashes back in like cold water.
What the hell was she thinking, just walking away like that? No explanation, no warning, just... gone. Into a forest we don’t know, toward something we can’t see, while we stood there like idiots watching her disappear.
My hands clench at my sides, heat building beneath my skin. The familiar spiral starts—fear masquerading as anger, protectiveness trying to translate itself into control. She could have been hurt. She could have gotten lost. She could have—
A crow caws overhead.
Sharp.Deliberate. Off.
I look up automatically, tracking the sound to a thick branch maybe thirty feet away. Black wings shift, settle. Dark eyes that seem too intelligent. Too focused.
It’s watching us. Watchingher.
That’s when I notice Thane.
He’s stepped forward, silver eyes following my line of sight, head tilted at an angle that makes my spine prickle. Every line of his body has gone tense, alert—like he’s listening to something the rest of us can’t hear.
The bird shifts again, and instinct kicks in hard and fast.
We’re being watched. Something’s off. And then it hits me like a sledgehammer to the chest.
