Chapter 13

KEL

I pace the length of the barn, boots dragging through the dirt floor, the low light casting long, jittery shadows. My chest is tight, like I've been holding my breath since Sol got back from town. He's standing near the door, arms crossed, staring at the ground like whatever he's about to say is going to drag us all under.

Adria, Ri's, sitting on an old crate, too quiet. His fingers tap a restless rhythm on his knee, but his eyes are sharp, watching Sol, waiting. It's that kind of quiet that makes me uneasy – the kind that comes right before a storm.

I stop pacing, glaring at Sol. "Spit it out. What the hell happened in town?"

Sol lifts his head, his mouth set in a grim line. "It's not good, Kel. I told you before, she's different. She's not like the others."

That twist in my gut tightens. It's been there ever since we met her, this gnawing uncertainty, but hearing Sol say it again? It's worse this time.

"Different how?"

"She was drawn to it," Sol says, his voice low and steady. "Dark magic. The curse. The gateway."

Ri's head snaps up at that, his fingers freezing mid-tap. "The gateway?" he repeats, his voice cold, controlled. "The same one we're supposed to be guarding?"

Sol nods, pushing a hand through his hair. "Yeah, the same. She didn't just stumble past it like most do. It called to her, and she followed. Like she knew it was there."

I swear under my breath, the tension in the room thickening. "And you just let her get that close?"

"I didn't have a choice," Sol snaps, defensive, his voice rising. "She's looking for a way to break the curse, Kel. Like the others who came before. But this is different. She's different. She felt the pull of it, like?—"

"Like it recognized her?" Ri finishes for him, his voice tight with restrained emotion.

That's the first real sign that Adria's rattled. Normally, he's the calm one, the strategist, but there's a tremor in his voice that I don't miss. He's wound up, more than usual, and I can't help but wonder if it's because of her.

He claimed her first—said she was his—but now, there's something else there.

Fear, maybe.

"Yeah," Sol confirms, his jaw tightening. "And there was more. A shadowy figure. Watching her."

That catches me off guard, my stomach sinking.

"And I don't think it's just watching anymore," my brother continues. "It's waiting. And I don't think Swyn's ready for what's coming."

Adria's jaw clenches, his eyes dark and stormy. He's always been the more rational one between us, but right now? He's on edge, and I know why. The same thing that's twisting in my gut is doing a number on him, too.

Swyn isn't just some witch to him. He won't say it out loud, not here, not to us, but we all know. He feels the bond. And that's what's scaring him.

But he won't let it show. He never does.

"She's not like the others," Sol repeats. "We can't let her do this alone. Whatever it is, she needs our help. Our support and our protection."

"Why do we care?" Ri snaps, the frustration spilling over. "She's a witch, Sol. This isn't our fight."

I raise my brows at my brother's outburst. This is the same man who staked a claim on her—said she was his—now he wants to turn his back on her? What gives?

Sol holds his ground. "It is now. She's involved, and if we don't step in, she'll walk right into danger. We've seen what happens when witches get too close to that kind of power."

Adria shifts on the crate, the tension in his shoulders taut like a coiled spring. "So what? We babysit her? Coddle her? That's not our responsibility."

His words are sharp, but I catch the flicker of uncertainty behind his eyes. He's saying one thing, but I know he's feeling another. He doesn't want to coddle her, doesn't want to feel anything for her, but the bond is there, clawing at him. Even if he's trying to deny it.

I know, because I feel it too.

"It's not about babysitting!" I snap, anger flaring. "It's about protecting her. Us. The town. Everything. That figure is a threat to all of us. We can't let it take her."

The silence that follows is heavy, thick with tension. Adria's gaze hardens, but he's wrestling with something inside. I know him better than anyone. We've been through hell together – fought our way out of it too. Whatever's going on in his head, he's torn. And I think I know why.

He's afraid of losing control.

"I don't trust her," Adria finally mutters, but his voice lacks conviction. "She could be a trap."

"And she could be the key to breaking the curse once and for all," Sol shoots back. "We can't ignore that possibility."

I take a deep breath, trying to channel my swirling emotions, so that I can keep the peace. "We keep a close eye on her. We stay vigilant. If she's truly different, we need to understand why. And if she's in danger, we're there to pull her back."

Adria's eyes narrow, but he doesn't argue right away. For a moment, I wonder if he's considering it – actually thinking about what it would mean to let her in, to protect her. I know him well enough to see the struggle.

We've always been the protectors. It's what we've done for each other and for our family ever since we were kids, ever since we got left behind by our parents to guard the gateway.

But this time? This time it's different. Because it's not just about us anymore. Ri's never let anyone get close, always keeping his emotions locked down. But Swyn stirs something primal in him, something that terrifies him, because it means he's not in control anymore. And that scares the hell out of my brother.

"Fine," he mutters, but his voice lacks conviction. "But if she proves to be a liability?—"

"We'll handle it," I cut him off, meeting his gaze. "Together."

The words hang between us, a fragile truce born of necessity. But I can see the doubt still lingering in Adria's eyes. He doesn't trust her, but there's something else there, too. Something he's not saying.

I glance at Sol, who's still watching us with that same grim expression. He knows, too. We've all seen the way Adria watches Swyn – how his jaw clenches whenever she's near, how his fists tighten like he's fighting himself.

I know because I feel it too. The instinct to protect, to stand guard. It's what we've always done – look after the people we care about, even if it costs us.

But with Swyn, we're all struggling. We want her, but we're terrified of what that means. And unlike me and Sol, trying to work it out but getting close to her, Ri is pushing her away, trying to maintain control, trying to protect himself.

I shake my head, forcing the thoughts away. There's too much at stake to dwell on it. As I step toward the barn door, the feeling of dread lingers. Swyn is walking a dangerous line, and whatever dark magic is calling to her, I'm not sure we can protect her from it – or from the shadows that loom just out of sight.