I thought about contacting him, but the more I considered it, the less I wanted to put myself in that position or cause more problems for myself.
Besides, I saw the chance to disappear on the outskirts of the pack grounds, and I took it.
Despite the pain of it all, I came out of it with my bright, beautiful girl. Astrid was the only thing that made it all bearable, and she still is. She’s the one person who can pull me out of even the worst mental spirals and distract me from all the old pain.
“Mama, can we go to the river?” Astrid asks, tugging me from the memory with ease. “I want to splash.”
I hesitate at the thought. The river is farther than I’d like to take her, and closer to the northern boundary.
But her eyes are already lit up at the idea, and it’s almost impossible for me to deny her anything.
Before she was born, I was terrified of becoming a mom. So afraid that I would screw everything up and ruin her life. Continue ruining mine. For a while, I didn’t think I even deserved to be a mother.
But the moment I held her, seeing just how tiny and perfect she was, I knew I had been wrong. She became my purpose, and the very reason I fought to carve out a safe corner for us away from the pack’s scrutiny.
She’s my everything, and denying her even the smallest joy feels like a disservice.
“Okay,” I say, trying to fight my small smile. “But not too long.”
Astrid beams, letting go of my hand to run ahead.
Leaving the trail behind, we weave through the thick brush and lower tree branches until the sound of running water fills the space around us.
Without even sitting down, she pulls her shoes off and walks into the gentle current, standing where the water is shallow. She splashes, smiling all the while, as if it’s the most entertaining thing she can think of.
“Be careful.”
I try not to hover too much or make her more apprehensive about things than she needs to be, but it’s a habit now. The thought of anything happening to her makes my stomach turn.
“I am!” she sings, cheerful and blissfully unaware of anything else around her.
My heart aches while I watch her, but with love and apprehension.
As much as I try to shield her from any kind of judgment, smothering her budding powers with my feeble glamor, she’s growing. And with that, her magic is constantly pressing against the seams of that barrier, always testing for a way out.
I don’t think it’s good for her to force her latent energy down, but there’s nothing else I can do for the time being.
Nobody can know. Not when magic use is forbidden on the Willow Island.
There are too many humans mixed in with us, and if they were to witness anyone using magic, we would all be discovered. We wouldn’t have anywhere else to hide.
But even at four, Astrid is strong. Stronger than she should be, just like her dad.
She squeals with delight while splashing with her hands, following through with the movement of her hands towards the sky, sending a ripple of magic-laced water into an arc overhead. It hovers there perfectly for a moment, beautiful as it catches the faint sunlight coming in through the trees.
For someone her age, it’s impressive. I want to celebrate her strength and nurture her potential, but for her safety and mine, I can’t.
“Sweetheart…” I start, hoping to catch her attention before it lingers too long.
But it’s already too late.
The air around us crackles with her energy, almost like invisible sparks I can feel deep inside me. It’s a pulse, a flare of wild energy that surges inside her, slipping through the cracks of my suppression.
Astrid freezes then, glancing back at me. She knows that feeling… knows that I’m clamping back down on it.
She blinks at me, and that look alone is enough to break my heart. She’s too young to know any better, and it ruins something in me to hold her back like that.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I say, taking a few steps closer. “We just need to—”
