Chapter 21

KEL

Swyn hesitates at the gate, her hand hovering over the latch like she's not sure if she should go in. There's this look on her face, one I haven't seen before—part wonder, part fear, like she's stepping into a dream she can't quite remember.

The house seems to hum with recognition, like it's been waiting for her. Hell, maybe it has.

I glance at Ri, who's standing too close to her, his eyes narrowed in that overprotective way he gets. Sol's beside me, still in his dog form, but his ears twitch as if he's picking up on something.

Then, without any shame, he trots off to the side of the garden and lifts his leg against the crumbling stone wall of the house.

I smirk. At least he didn't piss up her family's fence. Small mercies.

Swyn takes a step forward into the overgrown garden, her boots crunching on the wild, untamed grass. The place looks like it's been abandoned for years—vines twisted around rusting railings, with ivy creeping up the walls like it's trying to reclaim the house for nature.

Flowers that were probably once neatly arranged in beds now sprawl wherever they please, wild and free. It's fitting in a way—this garden, like her, is something wild waiting to be tamed.

I decide to hang back. This is her moment, a connection she needs to make on her own. It feels wrong to intrude. I glance at Ri, expecting him to see it too, but his jaw is clenched, and his eyes are glued to Swyn's back.

"She shouldn't go in there alone," Ri mutters, low enough so she won't hear.

I snort. "It's a garden, dickhead. What's the worst that could happen? She'll be fine. She needs this."

Ri glares at me, stepping closer. "We don't know what kind of magic lingers in that house or what's hiding in that garden. It's Galdur land, and she's only just started discovering her ancestry. I'm not letting her go in there alone."

I sigh and shake my head. Of course, he's overreacting, always thinking about the worst-case scenario. "You think something's gonna jump out of the bushes and curse her? Come on, Ri. Give her some space."

"She doesn't need space, Kel. She needs protection."

I sigh, glancing back at Swyn. She's already a few steps ahead, touching the leaves and flowers like she's discovering parts of herself. She looks peaceful for the first time in days, and Ri's paranoid ass is going to ruin it.

"Look," I say, trying to stay calm, "this isn't your fight, alright? Let her?—"

Ri cuts me off, his eyes flashing. "She's our responsibility. We promised to keep her safe. And she's ours ."

I open my mouth to argue, but I catch the determined set of his jaw, and I know I won't win this one. Ri's like a damn wall when he's made his mind up.

He's not going to let her out of his sight, and I'll be damned if I let him go in there and ruin this moment for her alone.

"Fine," I grumble. "But if you go in, we all go in. No one hovers over her, alright? Let her explore."

Ri gives me a sharp nod, and without another word, we both follow Swyn into the garden. Sol jogs back over, now human again, smirking as he adjusts his clothes, clearly having heard our argument.

"Glad you didn't piss on the family flowers," I mutter to Sol as we step over the threshold of the gate.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replies, smirking.

The three of us fall in step behind Swyn, the wild garden closing in around us. The air feels thick, like the magic here is alive and watching us.

It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.