Page 71 of Spirit Storm

His expression softens. “Do you think you can fix it?"

"I’d like to try.” I wait, studying his reaction. “If you trust me enough to let me. And if not, I totally get it and won’t be the least bit offended.”

He gives me a half-hooded gaze and smiles. “Don’t be stupid, babe. I have way more faith in you than you have in yourself. If you think you can do it, I know you can. Give it your best shot.”

The rush of warm fuzzy that unleashes in my chest is both sappy and dangerous. I could really lose my heart to this guy. Like deep, serious love.

I cup his jaw in both my hands and brush my lips across his. “Thank you.”

When his hands leave my hips and skim up my back, pulling me closer, all thoughts scramble in my brain. Wylder returns the kiss, and I give in.

We’ll get back to my idea in a moment, but for now… this is all I want.

Kissing Wylder is like a balm to my soul. It’s joy and comfort, freedom and safety. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before.

If the world wasn’t coming at us from all sides, I could get seriously addicted to this man.

“Your almond milk, my queen—oops, sorry about that.” Asher sets the glass on the table and waves his hand in the air. “I was never here. Carry on.”

He is gone as quickly as he appeared, but the moment is broken. “We’ll circle back to that in a bit. Right now, I need to focus. Can we take your shirt off? I want access to the wound.”

Wylder pulls his shirt over his head, then relaxes against the back of his chair. “You do you, babe. I’m just along for the ride.”

With an endorsement of trust like that, I’m more determined than ever to help him through the last hurdle of his healing. “Wish me luck.”

He winks. “You don’t need luck. You’ve got the goods, Hallowind. I believe in you.”

I close my eyes and send a quick prayer to the Goddess Mother. If you’re listening, Birdie, please guide me in helping Wylder. He believes in me, and I believe in you. I’m hoping that together we can do this.

With that said, I call upon my affinity and sink into the space where spirit magic lives. It unfurls inside me like a rush of liquid power, flowing through my veins and empowering me down to my cells.

Spirit is the non-physical essence of a person, a vital principle animating physical beings. It is unique to all. It is a guiding force and a reflection of who and what we are down to our basest existence.

Wylder’s affinity is plant magic.

The essence of plant magic is the ancient practice of connecting with the living spirit of flora. Wylder’s gift treats plants as conscious beings with unique personalities rather than mere objects, bridging physical healing and spiritual transformation through rituals, scents, and traditional herbalism because his spirit is about growth and life.

There is so much spirit in him and what he does, but the lash interrupted that flow somehow. If I’m right, that’s where the trouble lies.

Wylder’s skin is warm under my palms, and I release a flow of my spirit magic into him.

His spirit is bright, strong, the green of summer leaves, and warm like earth after rain. I follow the threads deeper, searching for the damage.

And then I find it.

There’s a gaping hole. A darkness within the light. A break in the flow. It is clean-edged and dark, like something vital was burned away and left nothing behind.

"Oh, Wylder." I breathe the words. "No wonder you feel like something is missing."

"That bad, is it?"

"It's…" I focus my intentions, directing my magic, probing carefully around the edges. I feel Tharuzel’s intention to hurt, to destroy, and it has no place here.

I call more spirit energy forward, and though I've never tried to channel through another affinity before, my instincts tell me I can help him. For all the horrible things Tharuzel has done, I haven’t been able to counter him. But for this, I can.

Spirit is my domain, and the best counter to the hatred and destruction of his intention is the love and healing of mine.

And I do love Wylder.