The way he saw me as complete, even when I didn’t.
My fingers burn against the stone. This time, the pain is real—rejection. My body remembers something my mind nearlyforgot: I chose freedom. I chose the path that wasn’t carved for me.
I pull my hand back. The connection shatters.
Magic surges back through me, wild and disobedient. My wolf rises, snarling, fighting. I stumble backward, out of the perfect circle, away from the stone that almost claimed me.
The forest around me ripples with displeasure.
I’m standing, trembling, fists clenched. Not taken. Not claimed.
But so close I can still feel the echo of completion.
The stone pulses behind me. A whisper of completion calls from the altar—promising that peace again, that wholeness. My feet shift backward without my permission. One step. Then another.
The pull is stronger than my will.
Chapter 19
Dane
Iwatch her disappear.
One second, Nova stands ten feet ahead, her back rigid as she tracks something I can’t see. The next—the air folds around her like a mouth closing.
I lunge forward, hitting nothing but twisted space where she should be. The forest warps, trees bending at impossible angles. Reality stretches thin, resistant.
“Nova!” The shout rips from my chest.
No answer. Just the pulse of wrongness where she vanished.
I press my palm against the barrier. It pushes back—not solid, but dense. Like moving through mud that doesn’t want to be disturbed. My skin burns where it makes contact.
Fuck this.
I slam my shoulder into the distortion. Pain shoots down my arm, but I push harder. The barrier stretches, gives slightly, then snaps back with force that throws me six feet backward. I hit the ground hard, roll to my feet.
Blood trickles from my nose. I wipe it away, snarling.
She’s in there. The faint trace of her scent lingers at the edge—bright and wild, threaded with magic. And something else. Fear.
My wolf surges forward, clawing under my skin. I let it. Let the rage build, let instinct take over. This isn’t about calculation anymore. This is about claiming what’s mine.
I charge the barrier again, faster this time. My body hits the distortion full-force. The impact jolts through my bones. Magic burns across my skin like acid, but I don’t pull back. I push. Harder. Deeper.
The barrier stretches, resists, and hums with malicious intent.
“Move,” I growl, digging my fingers into the fabric of reality.
It doesn’t.
I rip at it instead. My claws extend, tearing through the veil between worlds. Blood runs down my forearms. The woods around me scream—not with sound, but with feeling. Rage. Resistance. Pain.
Good. Let it hurt.
I tear deeper, forcing my body through the narrow breach I’ve created. The distortion fights back, crushing against my ribs, squeezing my lungs. I taste copper. Something cracks inside my chest.
I don’t stop.
