Chapter 32
Noa
The house feels hollow without him. Without anyone.
They’ve all been giving us space since yesterday, and it shows in every quiet corner in this gargantuan home. I’m not even sure Siggy slept here—I didn’t hear a single creak of movement upstairs where our bedrooms are last night. Seren stays in the apartment over the garage with Ivey, and the Nightingales sleep in the finished basement, far out of earshot. I haven’t seen any of them since yesterday. The thought curls up with immediate guilt, and I have to counter it with the reminder the time I spent away with Rennick wasn’t aimlessly indulgent—it was necessary. My body needed it to function, but more importantly, it’s what our bond needed to find its first true foothold toward repairing itself. The others would never fault me for it. They’d encourage it.It’s me who needs to retrain my brain and unlearn these deeply ingrained caretaker instincts that want to put everyone’s needs before my own.
They’re also what leave me searching for something,anything, to do since the silence is now allowing my mind to wander.
I don’t do well with stillness or not having someone who needs my immediate attention. Between Petal & Potion and the Nightingale sanctuary, my days were always full. Full enough to keep my hands occupied and my mind from drifting.
I’ve just started cleaning up the glass shards from Rennick’s busted juice cup when memories of last night filter in, both thegood and the painful parts of what happened in the dark of his closet.
Shaking my head, I try to tuck them away and continue to clean up what’s left of the mess from breakfast.
When I’m done, I consider tossing a load in the washing machine next, starting with the bedding from the nest, which is now stiff with dried slick and cum, but my wolf shuts down that idea immediately. A tangible not. She doesn’t want me disturbing a single thing. In her mind, it’s perfect as it is, our scents threaded through every inch of fabric like proof of her reunion with her mate.
I let her win…for now.
But at some point, I’m going to have to put my foot down, before our beautiful little sanctuary slips into the realm of truly uninhabitable.
With Rennick still not back yet, my next plan is to find my girls and maybe check in with Elio and Hattie. But I hesitate, standing still just long enough in the foyer for the memory to flicker behind my eyes again. The clearing, the stack, the helpless sounds coming from it that I’ve heard twice now.
My plans shift before I can question them.
My feet take me upstairs to my room, where I trade my soft pants for jeans and step into my thick-soled leather boots. Then I’m crossing the hall to Rennick’s room, heading straight for the closet. I pull down the cognac-colored corduroy jacket that didn’t make the cut for my nest and slip it on. It drowns me, but that doesn’t matter. It’s warm enough to keep the chill from my bones, and it smells like him. Those are my only fashion requirements at the moment.
I grab a few more items and bundle them up in my arms before darting back downstairs.
A minute later, I’m outside. The cold air slaps hard enough to burn my cheeks and the wind chases me across the graveldriveway and into my Jeep. I pull away from the house and the familiar winding mountain road unfolds before me as my hands guild the wheel on muscle memory alone.
I drive toward the place I never imagined stepping foot in again.
Halfway there, guilt nudges at me.
Reach for him,my voice of reason urges me.
I should. I know I should. If he makes it home before I do and finds the house empty, he’ll go straight into that loud, terrified spiral he reserves only for me and my safety. And the idea of doing that to him makes my stomach roil.
My gift has never been something I’ve controlled. It rises like instinct, as reflexive as taking a breath, and surging when it’s needed instead of when I call for it. But everything I know of power—my mother’s guidance, the coven’s teaching, the small pieces I’ve touched on my own—points to the same truth: magic isn’t commanded. It’s remembered. It lives within you, waiting. And you have to trust it the same way you trust your own heartbeat.
So I breathe out slowly and reach for that inner place where the magic sleeps. I’ve reached out to Juno like this before, but those moments were lit by sheer desperation, and she was standing in my line of sight. Rennick’s unspoken words have brushed against my mind once or twice, too. Though never deliberately. It was more like he tossed the thoughts out there on a quiet prayer, hoping I might be able to hear them.
But this time feels different. Deeper. Like I have to sink further into myself to find what I’m looking for.At first all I feel is stillness. Frosted silence. Then a faint hum gathers, spreading behind my eyes like wings lifting for their first testing stretch.
I feel the second my mind brushes against his and the connection snaps into place.
And so does he.
Noa?Rennick’s voice filters through before I can even think to greet him first.
Hmm?I hum, half distracted and embarrassingly proud that I managed this at all. Especially from so far away. The northern border isn’t close, and still my magic bridged the distance. It feels like a genuine step forward, like I’m no longer a helpless rag doll being dragged by my magic’s mercy.
What’s going on? Are you okay?His panic swells so fast I wince. It thuds against my sternum as if it belongs to me. I take one hand off the wheel to rub the center of my chest, trying to push a sense of calm down the connection.I’m turning back now.
What? No, don't do that. I’m fine, Ren.My mind trails off as another wave of wonder rills through me.This is just…really freaking cool.
I canfeelwhen he exhales and the tension releases him.
