A warmth, faint but growing, began to spread beneath my hand.
What the…
A soft, golden glow pulsed from my palm, growing stronger as I concentrated, my heart racing in disbelief. The warmth spread through my body, soothing the edges of the pain, and I could see the wound slowly starting to close. The gash, raw and open a second ago, began knitting together, the blood flow ebbing until it was nothing but a trickle.
I blinked, staring down at my side in shock as the wound continued to heal, the pain fading into an almost surreal numbness. Within moments, the deep, searing cut was nothing more than a faint scar, only a reminder of how close I’d come to death.
Pulling my hand away, my breath caught in my throat as relief and disbelief crashed over me. What just happened? How had I…healed myself?
Staring in stunned silence at the now-healed skin of my side, I slowly started to realize I was not in danger anymore. The transformation was unreal, as if my body no longer belonged to me. Moments ago, I’d been bleeding out, the pain unbearable,and now—smooth, unbroken flesh. My breaths came uneven, and my heart hammered like it wanted to escape my chest.
Holy fuck. I hadhealedmyself.
Impossible.
Before I could entirely grasp this turn of events, a new kind of panic surged through me, cold and electric, rooting me in place.
What the hell did this mean?
How did this even happen?
My mind spun, fragments of thought colliding in chaos. Did anyone see? Was someone there, watching as I performed the impossible?
Eyes wide with dread, I scanned the hallway, searching every shadow, every corner. My ears strained for the faintest sound—a creak, a whisper, footsteps closing in. Nothing. The silence was there, but it didn’t calm me. My body sagged against the wall, trembling as adrenaline burned through my veins, leaving me hollow and shaking.
I couldn’t let anyone know. Not after what I’d endured with my untraceable translation. Memories of Coastal slammed into me, sudden and unforgiving.NO. I would not be another lab rat. Not again.
I would get answers first, which I had no idea how to get. I only had the undeniable truth of what had happened.
And no choice but to hide it.
I was in hell.
Pacing my dormagain, I was going crazy about James. Going crazy about my new powers. About me almost dying this afternoon. About me healing myself.
With no one to talk to about any of it.
I’d tried nexing James three times. Zero response. Classic. The silence only fueled my frustration—and my nerves.
And I missed him. So fucking much.
Which is why, in a moment of utter desperation, I decided to move to James’s loft, disregarding any notion of his privacy, hoping being surrounded by his familiar scent might soothe me at least a little.
If it didn’t work, I figured his impressive collection of Scotch would be a decent backup.
With his ring snug around my finger—only to ensure I wouldn’t trip any protections warding his dorm—I portaled straight into his kitchen, snagging a bottle on my way to his bedroom.
And there I was, sprawled across his bed like a starfish with a hernia, burying my face in his sheets. They still smelled faintly of him, and I found myself sniffing them like some lovesick junkie.
The Scotch quickly worked its own magic, dulling the panic enough I could almost pretend everything was fine. Almost. My eyelids grew heavier with every sip until, at some point, I passed out mid-spiral into self-pity. A true picture of dignity.
But I couldn’t find it in myself to care.
It was around three a.m. when a sudden loud noise jolted me awake. My heart pounded in my chest as I shot upright, disoriented and still groggy from the Scotch. For a split second, I couldn’t remember where I was. Then it hit me—I was in James’s loft, surrounded by the faint scent of him mixed with the lovely tang of spilled alcohol.
I strained to listen, every nerve on edge. The sound echoed again, something heavy being knocked over. My pulse quickenedas I scanned the room, unsure of what—or who—had caused the rumble.
The noise was coming from the living room. I moved quietly toward the door, heart hammering in my chest. I reached for the handle, my fingers trembled, and I slowly pushed it open, enough to peek through the crack.
