Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Justice and I headed into the living room. My lips still tingled from our recent kiss, and warmth lingered in my cheeks. I nervously ran my tongue over my lower lip, tasting the faint metallic hint Justice always left behind.

As we entered the room, our team's quiet chatter ceased. The sudden silence was palpable, making the air feel thick and heavy. I fought the urge to fidget under their collective gaze, my heart rate picking up slightly.

I scanned their faces, wondering if they could tell we'd been kissing. Did my swollen lips and flushed skin give us away? The weight of their scrutiny made my skin prickle with self-consciousness.

Brody's expression remained impassive, his gaze flicking between Justice and me with an unreadable intensity. Damon studiously avoided eye contact, his jaw clenched tight enough that a muscle twitched in his cheek.

The others maintained a careful neutrality, but I noticed a few raised eyebrows, especially from Lisa and Zara. The tension in the room was almost tangible, like a taut rubber band ready to snap.

As the silence threatened to become unbearable, Garrick broke it. He leaned forward in his chair with a sly smile. The mischievous glint in his eyes made my stomach do a little flip.

"Well, well," he drawled. "Looks like someone got an early start on their goodbyes."

New heat rushed to my face, the blush spreading down my neck. Beside me, Justice shifted his weight, his arm brushing against mine in a gesture that felt both protective and slightly possessive.

The room seemed to collectively exhale, the tension dissipating with Garrick's lighthearted comment. As the others gathered their gear, I caught Justice's eye. His small, reassuring smile made my heart skip a beat.

With a deep breath, I squared my shoulders, pushing thoughts of our stolen moment aside. His strength always boosted me.

Suddenly, Sean bustled into the living room in a whoosh of air that carried the scent of fresh coffee and morning dew. The rising sun streamed through the windows, catching his red hair and setting it ablaze with golden light. For a moment, it looked as if his hair was on fire. The sight was so startling that I blinked hard.

"The car is ready for your journey," Sean announced. His words sent a jolt of adrenaline through me, making my palms suddenly clammy. This was it. We were really doing this.

Sean's fingers danced over a tablet in his hands, tapping rapidly. "I have set the GPS for the Grove of Whispers," he continued. "It's about a hundred miles from here."

The distance hit me like a physical blow. A hundred miles. It seemed both impossibly far and terrifyingly close. The weight of the journey ahead settled onto my shoulders, as tangible as my backpack. My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard, trying to moisten my throat.

I glanced around at my team, noting their mingled determination and apprehension. Damon was checking his weapons one last time. Brody stood tall, his stance radiating confidence I wished I felt. Justice moved closer to me, his cool presence a balm to my frayed nerves.

My gaze swept over Lisa and Zara, taking in their attire. They both sported sleek black leather pants that hugged their curves, the material creaking softly with each movement. The similarity in their outfits was so striking that I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, wondering if they had gone shopping together.

As they shifted their weight, I caught a glint of metal at their waists. My gaze zeroed in on the blades nestled in their belts, the weapons a stark reminder of the dangers we were about to face. A shiver ran down my spine, my dagger suddenly feeling heavier against my hip.

Their backpacks, slung casually over their shoulders, drew my attention next. The bags looked oddly full, their contents a mystery that made my imagination run wild. I leaned forward as if I could somehow see through the fabric.

I wonder if they've packed vials of powders and potions, I mused silently, my throat tightening at the thought. My fingers unconsciously brushed against my pack, feeling for the reassuring shape of the vial Princess Lyra had given us.

A fleeting hope flickered in my chest. Maybe they have something that could restore us to our human form if we're turned to stone, I thought, my heart rate quickening at the possibility. Images of my friends and myself as lifeless statues flashed through my mind, making my stomach churn.

I swallowed hard, trying to push away the unsettling thoughts. Instead, I focused on the confidence radiating from Lisa and Zara. Their postures were relaxed yet alert, ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. Their preparedness was both reassuring and intimidating.

As if sensing my scrutiny, both women turned to meet my gaze. I quickly schooled my features, offering what I hoped was a confident smile. Inside, I couldn't shake a nagging worry. What other surprises did they have tucked away in those mysterious backpacks? And would it be enough for what awaited us in the Grove of Whispers?

Brody checked his gun one more time, the movement precise and practiced. His gray eyes swept the team, lingering on each member before settling on Zara.

"All right, team, listen up," he stated. "Remember what Chelby said. We could be walking into a trap, and we need to stay sharp."

He holstered his weapon, then placed his hands on his belt, adopting the stance of a seasoned leader addressing his troops.

"We're stronger together," Brody continued. "Each one of us has a vital role to play. Trust your training, trust each other, and above all, stay vigilant." His gaze intensified. "The stakes are high, but I know this team. We've faced tough odds before, and we've come through. This mission is no different."

Brody straightened, squaring his shoulders. "Work together. Watch each other's backs. We all have a job to do, and I know we're up to the task." He nodded once. "Let's move out."

As the words washed over us, I felt admiration and a twinge of self-doubt. My chest tightened. Brody had a gift for leadership, steady and reassuring as he moved us with encouragement. The team visibly straightened, their faces set with renewed determination.

My fingers fidgeted with the strap of my quiver, a nervous habit I couldn't shake. I didn't possess those qualifications, that innate ability to inspire with a few well-chosen words. Awareness gnawed at my stomach.

Chelby's faith in me flashed through my mind, along with the cryptic messages from the mirror. They seemed to believe I could lead, but standing here in Brody's shadow, doubt crept in like a chill. I drew a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts.

As I exhaled slowly, a new idea began to form. Maybe leadership came in different ways. I scanned our diverse team, each member bringing unique strengths to our mission. Perhaps my role wasn't to be another Brody but to bring something entirely different to the table.

I squared my shoulders. My style might not be speeches and rallying cries, but I had other strengths. Intuition. Adaptability. The ability to see the bigger picture.

With this realization, some of the tension eased from my muscles. I might not be the leader I thought I should be, but I could be the leader this team needed. Different, yes, but no less valuable.

We were ready. I was ready.

Justice moved to my side, his presence a comforting warmth against the morning chill. He clasped my hand, his cool fingers intertwining with mine. The moment our skin touched, a jolt of energy coursed through me as if his strength was physically flowing into my body. My breath caught in my throat. I squeezed his hand, drawing comfort from his support.

We started out. Damon fell into step alongside me, his familiar presence a balm to my nerves. He'd always been at my side fighting, a constant in my life of uncertainties. His undying loyalty surrounded me like a protective shield.

As we headed for the door, a nagging thought tugged at the edges of my mind. I frowned, my brow furrowing as I tried to grasp the elusive memory. Someone else had been there, too, fighting alongside us. The shadow of a figure flickered in my mind's eye, just out of reach.

Maybe that had been Dad.

The thought sent a pang of longing through my chest. My free hand unconsciously moved to touch the locket hanging around my neck, a habit I'd developed whenever thoughts of my father surfaced.

At least, that's what Damon kept telling me. The frustration of my fractured past bubbled up, threatening to overshadow the moment.

Then, Justice's thumb brushed soothingly across my knuckles, grounding me in the present. I inhaled deeply, pushing the conflicting emotions aside. As long as he was at my side, I could face anything.