ability. It’s a bridge, a way to transport between worlds. Each of us is gifted with it. I couldn’t tell you sooner because of my orders. I know just showing up in the woods wasn’t enough to make you trust me, but I was trying to keep you safe.”
Sorcha’s thoughts swirled as she tried to make sense of it all. “So… the mist is your connection to the Otherworld? And you’re here because of me?”
He nodded. “Yes. When I came to the festival, I wanted to talk to you, to explain everything. Then the Fomorians attacked and afterwards wasn’t the right time.
The more time I spent with you, the more I realized I didn’t want to leave you.”
Sorcha’s breath caught in her throat as Kyron took a step closer, his voice softening. “You may have started out as my duty, Sorcha,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “But you’re more than that now. I need you to know my feelings for you go beyond what they should. I stayed here when I shouldn’t have, because I care about you.”
His words hung in the air between them, Sorcha’s heart raced, her mind reeling from the weight of his confession. She didn’t know what to say, but she couldn’t look away from him, caught in the depths of those swirling waves of his.
“There’s more I have to tell you,” Kyron said, his voice heavy with hesitation. “And what I’m about to say isn’t easy to hear. I need you to understand there’s never been a good time to tell you any of this. But it’s about who you are and what happened to your parents.”
She shook her head, a wave of denial washing over her.
“No,” she said firmly, her voice trembling. “I know what happened to my parents. I know who they were.” Her eyes searched his face, a mix of terror, sorrow and frustration clouding her expression. “I can’t. Not right now. It’s too much. This is all too much.” She began to back away when Kyron spoke.
His expression softened, a flicker of pain evident in his eyes, but he nodded. “I get it,” he said gently. “But if you ever want to know the truth, when you’re ready, I’ll be here. I’ll tell you everything.”
Sorcha’s eyes lingered on his for a moment longer.
He stepped closer, gently placing his hand over hers. “When you’re ready, Sorcha.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Then, before she could respond, he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. The warmth of it lingered even as he pulled away. Without another word, he turned and walked into the night, disappearing into the shadows, leaving Sorcha standing alone in the darkness.
She stood there for a long moment, the weight of his words settling heavily on her chest, her mind spinning with questions she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers to.
Chapter 33
An Unlikely Companion
Sorcha stood at her door for what felt like an eternity, still trying to process what had just happened. She was too stunned to move, her mind swirling in confusion as she tried to wrap her head around… well, everything. Kyron just laid out more information than she could handle, and then there was the kiss.
Finally, she stepped back inside her home, shutting the door with trembling hands. The dwindling fire in the hearth caught her eye, and she crossed the room, grabbing a few more logs from the basket to feed the flames. The fire awoke with a roar and crackle that let her know she could sit and enjoy its warmth. There in her chair, she sank. Watching the flames twist, rise and fall, consumed her thoughts.
It was too much. All of it.
Her journal sat on the table in its usual place, a silent companion in all this chaos, and as she always did, she reached for it. The pages soon spilled over with notes and scribbles, small sketches and scattered thoughts throughout. On those pages, she tried to piece together the picture it was creating, and all she did was connect that somehow she was in the middle of it all. And then there was Kyron.
Her pen stopped as she thought of him. Damn him. Damn him for complicating everything.For saying he had feeling for her, for admitting he was here for her. Why did he have to complicate things more than they were? That kiss, the tender kiss he placed upon her forehead…
She slammed the journal and leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. Her thoughts lingered on Kyron’s last words.
What did he mean about my parents? What could he possibly say?
Nothing he said would bring them back, nothing could change what had already happened… could it?
How would it break me?
She tried to push the thoughts aside, to think of anything else, but the question burrowed deep, refusing to let go. The memories of her parents, the moments before they disappeared, the loneliness after—it all surfaced. She scanned her mind for something, anything, that could give her the answers, but all she found was heartache. It hurt deeply, as if it had happened just yesterday. The pain of missing them, wishing they were still here, shredded her all over again. She told Kyron she couldn’t hear it not yet. In that moment, it had felt like the right choice. But now, sitting alone in the stillness of home, regret crept in. Whatever it was, it had to be better than spending the night imagining every outcome, tormenting herself with “what if?”.
She could no longer bear to be home, so she headed for a forest walk to clear her thoughts. The woods is where she felt most at peace and while walking at night wasn’t ideal, she promised herself not to venture too deep.She needed grounding, just to feel the cool earth beneath her.
The smell of autumn was heavy in the air, crispy leaves crunched under her feet, the faint babbling of brooks and streams nearby. This was where she felt alive. As she wandered, she stumbled on a perfectly arranged circle made of stone and flowers. It was odd, obviously man made. Nature was never this precise; its edges and patterns always held a kind of chaos. But here, everything was deliberate. Curious, Sorcha moved closer, kneeling to inspect the circle in the moonlight. She bent down, peering at its odd symmetry, when a sudden unexpectedmeowstartled her. She yelped, falling backward onto a tree stump with enough force to make her tailbone hurt. “By the Morrigan!” she cursed, rubbing her back. From within the circle, pair of silver eyes glowed in the dark, staring directly at her. Slowly, a sleek form emerged. A cat, though it was unlike any she’d ever seen. It was large, somewhere between a wildcat and small dog. Its fur was dark as night, shimmering almost, the only marking were small whitespots on its chest, like stars scattered against the night. The cat padded toward her with an almost amused air, sitting just in front of her as if waiting for acknowledgment.
Sorcha blinked. “You scared the life out of me, you know that?” The cat tilted its head, its silver eyes scanning her, almost as though it understood everything she was saying.
“You’re a beautiful cat,” she admitted cautiously.
