29. Aria

29

ARIA

I stepped quietly through the damp underbrush, wary of disturbing the scene before me. Seren stood in the middle of the small clearing, her tongue sticking out slightly—a telltale sign of her intense focus. Her hands moved through the air with elegant grace, as if conducting an orchestra. Instead of musicians, spirits circled her, their ghostly forms shimmering and wavering with each sweep of her arms.

“Amazing,” I whispered, even as a sharp pang of jealousy speared into me. I pushed it away. It wasn’t Seren’s fault that the magic came to her as easily as breathing.

The forest hummed with an energy that echoed the ghosts’ movements. A bolt of lightning zigzagged across the sky, illuminating the clearing for a split second before thunder rumbled in its wake.

Seren continued uninterrupted, the interplay of light and shadow highlighting her beauty. Though the words were unintelligible, the melodic chant held the spirits spellbound. What was she trying to do? Was she trying to return them to their realm?

“Please let this work,” I murmured. It was a plea to the ancestors, to the spirits, to anyone who’d listen. “We need them back where they belong. We need to fix this.”

A distant roll of thunder seemed to answer my prayer. Seren stood firm, her voice clear and steady as she recited incantations. One spirit, more solid than the rest, approached Seren, its ethereal hand reaching toward her outstretched palm. They connected, palm to palm, and a visible shudder ran through them both.

More people needed to see this, to see Seren embrace her magic. Many pack members had come forward, eager to understand the abilities they had hidden for so long. After the ritual, their abilities had grown stronger, and others had gained magic as well. I was leading the Silver Claw pack in a new direction where, unlike before, shifters would feel safe and accepted, unafraid to embrace these magical abilities. The deeply ingrained prejudices of some of the older pack members made it challenging for them to accept those who had such talents. They had an opinion on just about everything, from the way shifters should act to the people they were allowed to love. It frustrated me that not everyone agreed with the decisions I made because what we were building here...it was right .

I stepped over a fallen branch and moved a little closer to Seren and the spirits as I considered the three men from my father’s council who’d made it their mission to question my every move. Three men, hardened by time and clinging to tradition like a lifeline. Their voices had once held weight, but now their views were outdated. They couldn’t see past their own noses, and yet their disapproval still rang in my ears. Their wish was for the pack to remain as unchanged as the ancient stones that marked our territory’s borders.

They had approached me soon after I became alpha. “Should’ve been Larkin,” they’d said. “Not you, Aria.”

“Supposed to keep the pack pure, not taint us with new blood and strange powers. That’s not our way.”

“Your father never would’ve allowed this.”

Those last words stung the most. My father’s legacy was a heavy mantle, one they believed I didn’t deserve to wear. Before he died, his actions had instilled hope in me that he was open to change. Still, I wondered what he’d think of my choices, of the path I was carving for our pack, a path that deviated away from his.

“You were never supposed to be alpha,” one had said. “By taking up with that rogue, you humiliated that boy Larkin. He would never have defected, but you shattered his loyalty. You should have been mated, and he would have assumed his rightful place as the leader of the Silver Claw, just as your father intended.”

“Old fools,” I whispered to myself. Larkin had double-crossed Silver Claw long before Atticus had arrived on the scene, but they preferred to blame it on me, to make me the villain in their narrative. They feared what they couldn’t understand, and because of that fear, they sought to smother the spark of progress before it could take flame.

Times changed, and we had to change with them, whether we wanted to or not. Moving forward meant leaving some things—and some people—behind. It wasn’t easy or painless, but necessary. Whether they liked it or not, I’d drag them into the future, kicking and screaming if I had to.

The ghostly figures faded, and Seren slumped ever so slightly. She was dusting off her hands when I stepped out from behind the tree.

“Wow, your control over the spirits is impressive,” I said. She’d only come into her power shortly before the ritual, yet the display of control I’d just witnessed was astounding. With all the research she’d been doing, how had she found the time to master them? “What was all that for?”

She smiled knowingly, as if she’d expected my arrival. “Good morning to you, too. I was trying an incantation I found in a book in the library.”

“I’m sorry, Seren,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

She shook her head, her golden hair cascading around her like a radiant halo. “You didn’t, I was finished.”

“Were you trying to return them? The ghosts, I mean?”

“No, this was about engaging with them on a deeper level,” she explained. “Since the ritual, everyone can see them, but unless the ghost is really strong, they have a hard time being heard. They’re attracted to me because I can hear them. This incantation helped stabilize the link so I can control the connection rather than being bombarded.”

With everything that had happened since my father’s death and the ritual, I had given little consideration to Seren and her abilities. To be burdened by an incessant chorus of ghosts yearning for attention had to be taking its toll on her. I studied my friend and noticed the shadows that betrayed the exhaustion on her cheeks.

Seren turned and smiled at me. “They’re more restless than usual. The ritual I just performed helps me talk to them without their messages getting tangled.”

“Messages?” My stomach twisted. “What kind of messages?”

“Warnings.” She brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “They sense something’s wrong. More wrong than before.”

“Can you understand what exactly they’re warning us about?”

“Bits and pieces,” she admitted, looking back at the space where the spirits had been. “Something about the land. The magic within it.” Her brow furrowed. “Whatever it is, it’s not good.”

The earth beneath my feet felt like it hummed with the same unrest I saw in Seren’s eyes.

“Tell me,” I said.

“The balance is still shifting,” Seren said. “The spirits speak of a darkness growing exponentially. It’s tied to the land, to the very essence of magic that binds us. We already knew this to a certain extent, but I’m hoping I can get enough information from them so we can come up with a plan to stop it.”

I nodded slowly, a chill crawling up my spine despite the lack of cold. The seer had murmured similar things about the balance mere days ago. “Thank you. Whatever you’re doing, keep at it. We need more to go on. Can you find out more?”

I might find some insight in my father’s study, but the room was so uniquely his, so deeply infused with his presence. I hadn’t mustered the courage to enter it since he died. To tell the truth, I wasn’t emotionally prepared to face it yet.

“I’ll try.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and squared her shoulders. “They don’t always speak plainly, but I’ll figure it out. It’s not just about listening; it’s about understanding the balance. A lot of the spirits speak in riddles. Echoes of the past and possibilities of the future. It’s so much.”

“Great. More riddles.” My life had become a maze of them, and clarity seemed a distant dream.

A sudden tingle raced across my skin, a jolting buzz of energy that set my nerves on edge. Seren saw me wince.

“Are you okay?” She looked worried, and I hated that it was because of me.

“Just feeling off,” I muttered, tamping down my discomfort. There were bigger things at stake. “We need to understand this darkness, so we can confront it. Your connection with the spirits might be our best shot.”

Seren nodded. “I’m with you.”

“Thank you.” Our unity was our strength against whatever lay ahead. “Are you finished here?” I asked, gesturing towards the meadow and the wispy apparitions that continued to drift.

“Not yet. I want to make sure everyone who wants to be heard has had their say.”

I nodded and watched her, willing her to hurry. The tingling sensation had intensified from a minor irritation into an intense, pulsating ache that matched the rhythm of my heartbeat, relentless and unyielding. I’d have left, but I didn’t want to be alone. When I was alone, my brain started racing. I was having to come up with all sorts of ways to keep my mind off the uncomfortable buzzing beneath my skin. I’d even resorted to counting different species of birds to distract myself.

“Okay,” Seren said after a while, “I’m done, let’s get out of here.”

We walked the well-worn path through the forest, back to the manor. We chatted about mundane things, neither of us quite ready to talk about the heavy stuff.

Seren and I had just cleared the edge of the forest, the manor looming ahead, when I felt the unmistakable sensation of being watched. Since the same three men had dogged my steps for days, I didn’t need to turn around to know who was there. Suddenly, Seren wasn’t beside me. She’d melted back into the trees.

“Alpha Aria.” Elder Branan’s voice grated all through me.

I suppressed a snort. Before my father’s death, they never remembered my name, now they did.

“Good evening, Elders,” I greeted without enthusiasm, looking past them toward the safety of the house. If only I could disappear there. And stay hidden. Maybe forever? Ha. Yeah, right.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Elder Miren stepped forward, his tone accusatory.

“Back to the manor,” I replied flatly.

“Without acknowledging us?” Elder Corin added, his eyebrows knit together in disapproval.

“I just did. Was there something you needed?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“Your leadership—” Branan began, but I cut him off with a raised hand.

“Is there something specific, or are we just chatting about the weather?”

“Your father—” Miren started.

“Is no longer with us. And I am the alpha now,” I stated firmly.

“Your decisions have been... questionable at best,” Corin said sharply.

“Thank you for your input,” I said, keeping my face neutral.

Branan looked around. “Where’s Seren?”

“Busy,” I lied. She’d have her reasons for leaving me to fend off the circling vultures. I wished I’d had the luxury of escaping with her.

“Typical,” Miren muttered.

“Anything else?” I asked, my patience wearing thin.

“Watch yourself, Alpha,” Corin warned.

“Your father would’ve never allowed a woman to lead alone.” Branan scoffed. “If he were here?—”

“He’s not,” I snapped. “And I am leading.”

“Your father should have ensured you’d mated with Larkin before you chased him off,” Miren grumbled. “He would have been a proper alpha.”

“You are alpha in name only,” Corin said. “You’re too young, too inexperienced.”

“Destroying us with your ideas,” Branan added, his gaze cold.

“I respect our ways, but clinging to them blindly is the path to ruin,” I countered. “We face new threats, not just old enemies.”

“What is your plan, then?” Miren demanded. “How will you return us to normalcy?”

“I’m working on it,” I replied tersely. “When I need you, I’ll ask.”

“Keep our counsel,” Corin advised. “And remember your place.”

“Noted,” I said, biting back anger. “But you won’t dictate my life or my pack.”

“Choosing a mate is not a decision you can make on your own,” Branan warned. “You must seek our permission before you make a choice.”

“Yet it’s mine to make,” I stated firmly. “No one else’s.”

“The vigor of youth can be admirable,” Miren acknowledged. “However, your actions... they worry us.”

“Got that message loud and clear,” I muttered under my breath, determined not to let their constant needling affect me. They were trying to provoke me, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

In a tone that oozed a sugary understanding, I said, “Times change. The pack must evolve. What decisions are worrying you? Maybe I can clarify them for you.”

“Reckless disrespect,” Corin muttered, shaking his head.

“Traditions,” Branan spat out as if the word left a bad taste.

They turned and left, their heavy steps and disapproving murmurs ringing in my ears. As I watched them go, I knew this was far from over.

I told myself they were nothing but antiquated men intimidated by a female alpha, but their words and misgiving lingered. What was I doing to right things? My visit to the seer had been a bust, and I had nothing else to go on.

Feeling a desperate need to escape, I decided to shift and surrender to the primal instincts of my wolf. I could patrol the boundaries and make sure the Crimson Fang weren’t plotting any further covert takeover attempts.

“Stuck in the past,” I muttered, feeling the burn of the silver crescent at my collarbone. “They don’t see what I see.”

Bones and muscles stretched as my limbs transformed into four paws. In an instant, I was a wolf, covered in thick, silver fur that matched the color of my hair. A whole new array of sounds and odors that were inaccessible to my human form flooded my senses.

I glanced back over my shoulder and watched the three old shifters walking away. The old guard. Their continued conversation about their disapproval of me as a leader reached my heightened hearing.

“Thinks she can change the rules when she barely understands them,” Miren said.

“What was her father thinking, allowing a slip of a girl with no respect to lead the pack? What good can come of changing the ways that have worked for millennia?” Branan added.

Their footsteps grew fainter, and I barely made out Corin’s reply. “She’ll bring this pack down to its knees if we don’t watch her every move.”

A deep growl rumbled through my chest. My wolf didn’t like how I’d handled the three old fools. As their alpha, I should have been less deferential. I should have used my authority to enforce the new way of thinking. I understood my wolf, but I didn’t want to govern the pack in that manner unless it was absolutely unavoidable. I wanted my people to come to an understanding and see it from my point of view.

I looked back toward the manor. Change was coming whether they liked it or not. Tradition was important, but we couldn’t allow it to chain us down.

I took off, running through the forest until I reached the junction towards the border of the territories. I deviated from the path, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention from the Crimson Fang sentries. I knew they would find evidence of my presence, but I wasn’t looking to engage. I ran alongside their boundary line, ensuring I stayed carefully in my own territory, but found no evidence of them encroaching on Silver Claw land.

After a while, I approached the intersection where the Crimson Fang pack and the rogue’s territories met. Instinctively, I slowed my pace. My wolf, eager to see Atticus, wanted to press on. Her frustration from yesterday’s missed opportunity fueled her anger. She understood my loyalty to the pack and my father, but my father was no longer here. Atticus was. Yet, I couldn’t be with him, not right now. Not with the mess I’d made of things, and everything I needed to fix.

Not wanting to think about Atticus, the ritual, or anything else, I forced my wolf away from the boundaries and into the ancient forest. With each stride, the undergrowth whipped against my body, and I raced forward, paws pounding on the dirt path, not stopping until exhaustion set in. Only then did I return to Silver Claw territory. When the manor came into view, I shifted back into my human form. Squaring my shoulders, I walked purposefully toward the manor. Each step felt firmer than the last, as if the very earth was lending me strength.

Tired now, but feeling as if I had at least accomplished something by checking the borders, I climbed the stairs to my bedroom. When my father died, I was given the option to claim his spacious master suite as my own. His rooms were closer to the front door, which right now seemed like a good idea because I was too tired to walk far. However I’d chosen to remain in the rooms I grew up in. Not only did I find comfort there, but it also gave me a safer escape option if an enemy approached the manor directly.

As I stepped into my room, a chill came over me. Goosebumps erupted over my skin. The room was cooler than usual. I frowned, searching for an open window, but found none. Moonlight bathed the space in a calm glow, highlighting the ethereal figure drifting in front of the glass. The apparition materialized with an intense glow, pulsing faintly. The sight stopped me in my tracks, and my heart stuttered.

As I watched, the spirit’s form gradually faded, becoming more translucent. It was a woman. She struck an imposing figure in her sleek dress, the tailored lines accentuating her height. Her hair, rich ebony strands, were intricately coiled in a style that defied gravity. This was a woman who commanded attention without needing to raise her voice.

“Mama?” The word, tangled with hope and disbelief, was barely a breath.

“Aria.” Her voice was still the same soothing melody from my past.

Despite her faded appearance, the similarity between us was unmistakable. The shape of her face and jawline so like the one I saw in the mirror. When she smiled, it nearly brought me to my knees.

“My brave girl.”

I blinked, tears welling in my eyes. My head spun. My heart wanted to burst with grief, love, longing. And then peace, like a gentle tide, washed over me.

“Is this real?” I stepped closer, half-expecting her to fade away completely. A soft haze surrounded her, smudging her outline. “How is this possible?”

“Magic, my love,” Mama said, her voice carrying the warmth of life itself. “The same that’s in you.”

I reached for her hand but found only air. She was here, yet untouchable. “I’ve missed you so much.” My voice broke, tears spilling over.

“And I, you.” The love that had never left even in death blazed in her eyes. “I’ve been watching you. You’re becoming the leader you were meant to be. I’m so very proud of you, darling.”

I shook my head. Doubt settled heavily on my shoulders. “Mama, it’s hard. I feel like I’ve let everyone down. The pack, you...”

“Leadership is lonely, my darling girl, but you’re never alone. You have your pack, friends... and me. You are growing. That is your success.”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, steadying my breath. “The ritual stirred up more than we bargained for. Ghosts, magic... It’s a lot to deal with. And Atticus…” I sighed. “I don’t know how to mend things with him. And whenever I ask for help, all I receive are obscure answers in the form of riddles. Ilaric, the seer…” I trailed off.

Mama’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, Aria, not all answers can be given directly. A prophecy given as a blunt instruction removes choice and turns people into puppets on the stage of fate. Some truths are found in shadows, spoken in the language of the spirit.”

I frowned, grinding my teeth. “You, too? I need something I can use, something concrete.”

“Life doesn’t work that way,” Mama said wistfully. “What’s to come will unfold in its own time. To give you the path would be to rob you of the journey.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” I asked, feeling lost.

“Trust in the steps you take, not the destination you seek,” she told me. “Look beyond the veil of certainty and embrace the unknown.”

“Embrace the unknown?” While I’d already heard the sentiment from Ilaric and Seren, it carried a different weight coming from my mother, who I knew held unconditional love for me and only wanted the best for me. I took a deep breath, letting things settle. “Okay, Mama. I’ll try.”

I shivered as Mama’s eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made the air around us thrum. “Everything is made up of light and dark. Stop fighting the darkness and embrace it. Light and darkness coexist in a beautiful dance that creates harmony. Balance. I’m afraid that balance is amiss right now, and it’s going to get much worse before it gets better.”

“Worse?” I whispered.

“Darkness will grow,” she said. “But don’t let fear take root. Lean on those who stand by you. You’ll need them.”

“How do I embrace the darkness without losing myself to it?”

“By remembering who you are,” Mama answered gently. “You are a daughter of the moon, a child of balance. Your strength lies not in choosing between light and dark, but in wielding both to protect those you love and lead.”

I frowned. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

“You are, and you must,” Mama insisted firmly. “For the sake of the pack, for the land, and for your own heart. Love is the most powerful magic of all. It can heal, it can protect, and it can bring light to the darkest of places.”

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I miss you, Mama.”

Her smile shone through the pale light. “I’m always with you, in the whisper of the wind, in the glow of the moon, in the courage of your heart.”

The words wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. I let out a breath and dared to ask the question that had been haunting me since my father’s death. “Do you know Father died?”

Mama’s expression changed, sorrow etching her ethereal features. She nodded once, a silent confirmation heavy with unspoken grief.

“Have you seen him?”

“Briefly. We were able to connect as he was passing through. He was heartbroken to leave you, dear one. The spirit world is mysterious, but I’m sure I will see him again someday.”

I swallowed hard, memories of my father’s last moments alive burning in my mind. “He said... he said to choose the heart’s path. What did he mean by that?”

Mama reached out, and though she couldn’t touch me, I felt the warmth of her intent. “I can’t speak for your father. But trust yourself. If you’ll allow yourself to see, you will understand the meaning behind his words.”

A lump formed in my throat. Trust myself. It seemed both the simplest and the hardest thing to do.

Mama’s outline blurred further, edges shimmering into nothing. I stretched my hand toward her, fingers trembling.

“I love you, Mama. Will I see you again?”

Her voice floated back, fainter now. “I love you too, sweet girl. Always. I hope I can return to you, but I can make no promises. Be careful and remain vigilant.”

The last warning hung in the air, then silence descended as her presence slipped away. I collapsed onto my bed, sobs racking my body and tears soaking my pillow.

I slept hard, my body drained from the intense run and seeing my mother. When I woke, warm, golden light spilled through the window.

I’d slept through the night and into a new morning, something that hadn’t been happening enough lately. I crawled out of bed and trudged to bathroom.

The warm water of the tub soothed my tense muscles. The scent of the wildflowers in the soap transported me to the clearing where I’d watched Seren working her magic with the spirits. Had the ritual she’d performed yesterday allowed my mom to visit? Was that why I could hear her and speak to her?

I extended out my own power that allowed me to control water. Focusing on the water around me, I harnessed threads of magic to send three spurts of water into the air. With a flick of my fingers, I shape the water into three tiny ducks that soared playfully around me. I changed them from ducks to fish to clouds. Empowered by this delicate use of magic, I got out of the tub and used the same magic to evaporate the moisture from my skin and hair.

There was a knock at the door to my room. “Aria? Aria, you in there?” Seren called.

“Won’t be long. I just have to get dressed.”

“Ilaric asked me to remind you about the meeting in the room off the library.”

Magic forgotten, I scrambled to pull some clothes on and made my way through the manor, knowing I was going to have to tell Seren, Eldan, and Ilaric the truth about how I was feeling. I needed everyone’s help to decipher the meaning of the seer’s cryptic riddles and my mother’s enigmatic advice.

The air felt thick, like wading through a river. I couldn’t pin it down, but something inside me churned restlessly.

Seren, Ilaric, and Eldan formed my council of trusted advisors. They were sitting at a small mahogany table, the chair at the head of the table empty and waiting for me. In the center, sat a small tray with four cups and a ceramic teapot, its fragrant steam curling into the air.

Seren wore a serious expression, her open book and a pen positioned in front of her, ready to document any information shared during the meeting. Eldan had the plate of biscuits and cakes in front of him, a cup of tea at his elbow. Ilaric sat back, his hands relaxed in front of him, his eyes following me as I paced the length of the chamber.

I stumbles over my words as I tried to explain.

“Ever since the ritual, there’s been this... this build-up,” I said, struggling to articulate the sensation that was all at once foreign and familiar. The others watched me with furrowed brows.

Eldan leaned forward, his expression taut. “You’re not making much sense. Start from the beginning.”

I halted mid-pace, hoping to steady the whirlwind of thoughts. “After we completed the ritual, I felt fine. But later, a strange sensation spread through my body, like electricity building up under my skin. Then I found new markings around my birthmark.”

I tugged at my collar to show them. The intricate lines and swirls on my collarbone pulsed and throbbed as if they had a heartbeat of their own.

“What started as a tingling has escalated into waves of pain. When Ilaric and I went to the seer for guidance. He was as cryptic as ever, but when he saw the markings, he became agitated, kept talking about too much power and the balance being off. I got the impression he doesn’t think it can be fixed.”

“Then last night...” Memories of my visit with my mother brought a rush of emotions, and I had to fight back my tears. I cleared my throat. “Last night, my mother’s spirit was in my room. She repeated some of the seer’s concerns, saying the balance is off and that it will get worse before it gets better.”

Eldan’s gaze lifted to mine. “Your mother? Mona?”

“Yes, Eldan. Mona,” I snapped, then sighed. “I’m sorry, my patience is frayed. Yes, my mother’s spirit. She visited with me last night.”

“Must’ve been pretty special seeing your mom?” Eldan asked carefully.

“It was amazing,” I said with a smile. “Her warning about the balance was just as vague as the seer’s, though.” I gave Ilaric a pointed look before he could say anything. “I know, I know. Nobody can give me a straight answer for fear of altering fate. She said my strength lies in wielding both light and dark to protect those I love and lead. To stop fighting the darkness and embrace it. But I don’t know what she means. I have to consider everything in order to protect the pack. Protect them from what?” I shrugged helplessly. “How can I ensure their safety when I don’t know what to expect?”

Ilaric rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Unseen threats are the most difficult to prepare for. We’ll need a strategy.”

I forced my pacing to slow, rubbing my arms to hasten the wave of pain to its crescendo. Then it would fade to a more manageable background throbbing, but I knew relief was temporary, and it would begin its relentless cycle again. “We have to think about stability. For all of us, for more than just the pack, even.”

Seren folded her arms. “You do know your well-being is central to that, don’t you?”

I nodded reluctantly. “I know. I just don’t want to worry everyone over nothing when there’s so much more to deal with right now.”

“It’s not nothing,” Eldan interjected softly. “It’s part of being a pack. We look out for each other.”

“Right,” Ilaric added. “We face it together. So, let’s start by figuring out what this build-up of magic means for you, and for us.”

“Agreed,” Seren said. “We can’t afford any weak links.”

“None of us are weak links,” I hissed before I could catch myself. The pain was wearing down my patience, making my temper flare at the slightest provocation. I rubbed my hands over my face. “Sorry. It’s a lot to handle.”

“Understandable,” Ilaric said. “Let’s focus on solutions. Now, what else did your mother say?”

“Only that I should be careful and vigilant. Which isn’t much to go on.”

My skin throbbed relentlessly, as if the pain was trying to claw its way out. I resumed my pacing. The stone walls seemed to close in on me, making me feel trapped.

Ilaric caught my eye. “What’s wrong? You’re not yourself.”

“Nothing. Just this buzzing... it’s uncomfortable. Painful.”

“Is it getting worse?” His tone sharpened, a note of authority breaking through that I wasn’t used to.

I wanted to shrug it off and change the topic. “Look, we should focus on?—”

“No,” Ilaric said. “You need to be honest about what’s happening. It matters.”

I clenched my fists, the energy pulsing stronger. “I’ll manage. We have bigger issues to address.”

Seren leaned forward. “You’re blind if you think your well-being doesn’t affect us all. Our world. The pack.”

The truth in her words stung. My pacing quickened, back and forth, faster and faster. The others watched, their faces a mix of frustration and worry. Their genuine concern made me realize that as alpha, I didn’t have to bear the burdens alone. Hadn’t my mother told me to depend on others? This was my opportunity to follow her advice.

The energy surged, and my breath hitched. Suddenly, Eldan in front of me, gripping my arms.

“Look at me,” he commanded softly.

“Can’t... it’s too much,” I gasped out.

“Focus on my voice.” He was steady, a rock. “Breathe with me.”

Inhale. Exhale.

Slowly, I matched his rhythm, and the room stopped spinning. The unrelenting fizzing pain remained, though it was muted to some extent as the edges of panic were beaten back.

“Good,” he murmured and pulled me into a hug. The tremor in my limbs stilled.

“Sorry, I knocked but nobody answered.” Atticus’s voice jolted through me. We turned to find him standing in the doorway. His body was tense, concern etched in the lines of his face, but there was something else too—discomfort.

I hadn’t sensed him the way I had in the clearing. The pain had distracted me so much I’d been oblivious to his presence until he was in the room.

“I have information you need to hear,” he said, his tone urgent.

I pulled away from Eldan and smoothed down my shirt, trying to look less unraveled than I felt.

“What is it? Can it wait?” I asked.

“No, it can’t.” Atticus rarely looked this rattled. Whatever he had to say, it was big.