MILLIE BROWN

The past two days had been an emotional blur. Verran had come by briefly to check in before heading out to continue spying on Alex. His reports had been uneventful—no unusual activity, nothing to suggest Alex was plotting anything sinister. Was I just being paranoid? How could I not though, when I heard him plotting to have me killed.

I couldn't bring myself to tell Verran the truth, not even with him under my spell. I just couldn't admit it, that Alex, someone I had once trusted, was scheming to have me killed.

And now, each night, the dreams returned. Dreams of the wolf. She haunted my sleep, her presence lingering even when I awoke. Sometimes I ran alongside her, seeing the world through her eyes—cold wind rushing past, the forest blurring as she sprinted with an elegance that was both primal and majestic. Other times, I wasn't with her but felt an unshakable connection, as though we shared a bond deeper than words could express. There was always sadness in her eyes, a sorrow so profound it threatened to pull me under.

I didn't understand her pain, yet it felt like my own. I didn't know why I felt compelled to ease her suffering, only that I must. She appeared only in my dreams, always out of reach in the waking world.

Tonight, the dream was different.

I found myself seeing through her eyes again, racing through the forest toward a familiar structure. It was the palace—the same one I had seen the day Shane found me. She ran with purpose, her white fur gleaming under the apex of the moon, which bathed her in a celestial glow. She reached the palace gates, threw back her head, and howled—a sound so mournful it resonated deep within my soul. The moonlight intensified, casting her in an ethereal aura as she gazed at the palace with longing in her eyes. Then, I woke.

A surge of magical energy rippled through me as I bolted upright. It was stronger now, its instability more palpable than ever. I could feel its raw power coursing through me, unsteady and wild.

Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I assumed the posture Caelum had taught me: back straight, head raised, hands interlaced. I focused on the bracelet he had crafted, using it as an anchor to steady my magic.

"Like a river," I whispered, trying to regulate the flow of energy.

Again and again, I tried to calm the storm within, but the force resisted. Eventually, I could feel the glow in my eyes dim, and the flow of magical energy balance.

Frustration bubbled in my chest. I had read countless books on sorcery, scanning pages of prophecies and the rare accounts of sorcerers who could see them. But nowhere had I found guidance on interpreting what I was experiencing.

I grabbed Caelum's coat, the one he'd given me that day. It still carried his scent—woodsy, with a faint hint of spice. Wrapping it around myself, I felt a small measure of comfort. I knew wandering into the forest at night was foolish, but I couldn't sit still. The wolf plagued my thoughts, and I needed to walk it off, to tire myself enough to sleep again.

The forest was serene, illuminated by the moonlight spilling through the canopy. I followed a familiar path, one I had explored during breaks from Caelum's rigorous training. He didn't like it when I wandered, but he allowed it, knowing I needed the reprieve.

As I walked deeper into the woods, I spotted a clearing ahead, bathed in concentrated moonlight. My muscles began to relax as I approached, but the ground beneath me suddenly gave way.

My foot slipped, and I tumbled down a steep incline, rolling uncontrollably. Branches scratched at my skin as I tried to grab hold of something—anything—but my descent wouldn't stop. A tree loomed ahead, and panic gripped me.

Before I could brace for impact, unfamiliar words spilled from my lips in a trance-like whisper:

Στῆθι χρόνος καὶ ἐπίτρεψόν μοι (Stand still, time, and grant me a moment).

Time froze.

The world around me became static—leaves suspended midair, my body caught mid-roll, gravity itself momentarily defied. Everything was still, silent, and unmoving.

I seized the opportunity to reach for a sturdy branch, pulling myself upright and halting my descent. My heart raced as I clutched Caelum's bracelet, its presence both grounding and terrifying. This was just like that night with Verran, when I had managed to freeze him in place.

Cautiously, I made my way to the clearing. What I saw there stole my breath.

The clearing was a scene from a dream, untouched and otherworldly. At its center was a pond, perfectly still, reflecting the moon like a silver mirror. The water's surface shimmered faintly, as though alive with energy. Surrounding the pond were wildflowers in full bloom—vivid hues of blue, violet, and gold, their petals frozen in time. The grass sparkled with dew, each droplet suspended mid-drip, catching the moonlight like tiny stars. Even the air seemed enchanted, carrying the faint, sweet aroma of blooming jasmine.

For a moment, I simply stood there, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all.

Kneeling by the pond, I dipped my hand into the water. A jolt of energy shot through me—a pure, untainted force that resonated with my very being. It was as though the pond recognized me, its energy mingling with my own.

Another incantation formed in my mind, unbidden:

Ζωὴν ἐπιστρέψατε καὶ ἀναπνεύσατε (Return to life and breathe).

As the words left my lips, the world stirred.

The pond rippled first, its surface breaking into gentle waves. The wildflowers swayed as though awakened, their vibrant colors glowing in the moonlight. The grass glistened anew, droplets falling in a soft cascade. A cool breeze whispered through the clearing, carrying with it the hum of life.

I smiled, marveling at the transformation. I felt strangely connected to this place.

I looked down and as I gazed into the pond, my reflection shifted. Instead of my own face, I saw a pair of haunting eyes staring back at me—eyes that burned with an intensity I couldn't escape.

I stumbled back, my heart racing. Slowly, I crept forward again, peering into the water. The eyes were still there, unblinking, filled with a mixture of sorrow and strength.

They were the wolf's eyes.

A sudden shift in energy pulled me from my trance. The air grew heavy, the water began to churn, and the breeze escalated into a fierce wind. I closed my eyes, trying to center myself against the growing storm.

When I opened them again, the wolf emerged.

The mist rose from the water, a shimmering veil of silver under the glow of the full moon. I stood there, frozen in awe, as the form of the wolf emerged, her body ethereal and glowing, like she was made of starlight and shadows. Her fur glistened as if dew had kissed every strand, and the symbol of a lotus, radiant and intricate, adorned her forehead. But it was her eyes that held me captive—black as the void yet alive with an unfathomable depth. Those eyes seemed to look through me, peeling away every barrier until only the raw truth of who I was remained.

I felt my hand reach out, as though compelled by an unseen force. The wolf moved toward me, her steps silent yet powerful, ripples spreading across the still water beneath her as if she floated just above its surface. Every step sent a pulse of energy through the air, each one stronger than the last, until it felt like the world itself was holding its breath.

When my fingers finally grazed her fur, a sensation like electricity surged through me. The wolf leaned into my touch, her warmth seeping into my skin, filling the emptiness I hadn't even known was there. My chest tightened as emotions I couldn't name overwhelmed me. It wasn't just connection—it was recognition, as though a part of me had been missing all along, and now it had found its way home.

"I've been waiting for you," I whispered, the words spilling out before I could think.

The wolf didn't speak, but I felt her reply in my heart: And I for you. A surge of warmth spread through me, chasing away my fear.

Her face shifted slightly, her gaze softening but growing more intense at the same time. Then, as though the air itself carried her words, I heard a voice in my mind.

"I can't stay long, but I have a message for you."

The voice was melodic yet haunting, wrapping around me like a whisper from an ancient past. Tears streamed down my cheeks without permission or reason; it wasn't sadness that moved me, but something deeper. Something more intense.

The wolf pressed her forehead to mine, and my vision blurred. A warmth spread through me, a thread of energy weaving itself into my very soul. Then, the world shifted.

I saw myself, seated on a throne. The room around me was vast and regal, the air heavy with power and reverence. Shane sat beside me, his gaze steady and unyielding, as a crown was placed upon my head. Cheers erupted, their echoes filling the room, but I couldn't focus on the sound. My heart pounded as I tried to understand—tried to process the weight of what I was seeing.

And then, as suddenly as it began, it was over.

The wolf faded into the mist, her form dissipating into the night. Darkness surrounded me, and when I opened my eyes, I was in my bed. The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room.

I bolted upright, my breath ragged. My fingers curled into the blankets beneath me as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. It wasn't a dream. It couldn't have been. My heart still raced, my skin still tingled from where the wolf had touched me.

I threw on Caelum's coat and slipped out of the house. The cold air bit at my cheeks, but I didn't care. I needed to find that clearing, needed to prove to myself that what I'd seen was real. Needed to see her, the wolf again.

But no matter how far I searched, the clearing was gone. The forest seemed unfamiliar, as though the path I'd walked before had been swallowed by the earth. My steps faltered, and I pulled the coat tighter around me.

Was the wolf telling me to go to the palace?

The thought of Shane flickered in my mind, unbidden and unwelcome. I hadn't seen him since the day he watched me crumble in Caelum's arms. The memory still stung, though I hated myself for it. Why did his absence leave such a hollow ache in my chest?

And if I went to the palace, what then? Would I confront him? Or Leah? The thought of seeing her again, of facing her again made my stomach churn, especially because nothing made sense right now.

I stumbled upon a patch of flowers near the house—lilies and daisies, their petals drooping as though weighed down by despair. They were my favorite. Had Shane planted them here for me?

I shook the thought away, anger flaring in my chest. He was a manipulator, a liar. I repeated it to myself like a mantra, but the words rang hollow.

I crouched, brushing my fingers against the wilted petals. A strange sensation stirred in me, and before I realized it, a word slipped from my lips: "Shadow."

The air shifted. The flowers trembled, then straightened, their petals blooming brighter and fuller than before. My breath caught as I stared at them. How had I done that? My magic had been stable—or so I thought.

Panic surged through me, and I ran to Caelum's study. I needed to show him this right? I had never revived a flower before and this time felt different, there was no surge in my power and my magical energy felt stable.

"I have to show you something," I said, my voice shaky.

"Not now, Millie," he replied, his tone strained.

"You'll want to see this," I insisted, grabbing his arm and pulling him outside.

I showed him the flowers, my heart pounding as I watched his face pale. He turned to me, his expression a mixture of worry and something I couldn't name.

"We're leaving," he said abruptly.

"What?"

"We need to continue your training elsewhere. It's not safe here anymore."

His words hit me like a blow. What did he mean by it wasn't safe here? Was it Shane I had to worry about? He promised not to hurt me right?

"Why is it not safe, I can tell you're hiding something from me Caelum, please just tell me," I said, watching him with hooded eyes.

"I cannot tell you that," He says and a wave of disappointment hit me.

"Then I'm not going," I say determined.

"Millie, you have to understand."

"No." I cut him off. "I am not leaving this place, not until I get answers."

"Millie don't be stubborn and listen..."

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Because, Millie, you are special and it is my responsibility to keep you safe."

His words struck deep, and I could see the worry etched into his features. He was scared—not for himself, but for me.

"I don't want to leave," I admitted, the words surprising even me. Wasn't Lupinmere my hell? A place I could not wait to escape? Why did the thought of leaving have my chest aching now?

He looked at me, his eyes softening. "We don't have a choice."

Tension crackled between us, unspoken emotions weaving their way into the silence. I wanted to argue, to fight back, but the truth was, I didn't even know what I was fighting for anymore.

Caelum stepped closer, his hand brushing mine. His touch was gentle, grounding, but it only made the ache in my chest worse. They moved hesitantly, his fingertips brushing against my cheek. The touch was so light, so fleeting, that I wondered if I'd imagined it. But then his palm settled against my skin, warm and steady, and my breath caught in my throat.

I blinked up at him, unable to form a response. My hair had come loose again, wild strands falling in every direction, tangling against my face and neck.

He let out a soft sigh, his thumb brushing away a stray strand stuck to my cheek. The motion was achingly tender, and I couldn't ignore the way his eyes softened as they met mine.

"You always manage to get yourself like this," he said, more to himself than to me, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down my spine.

Before I could say anything, he bent down, his long fingers delicately plucking a few of the flowers I'd just revived. His movements were precise, almost reverent, and when he straightened, I saw his lips moving in an inaudible whisper.

A faint glow enveloped the flowers, soft and golden, as though they held sunlight within their petals. I watched, spellbound, as they twisted and wove themselves together, transforming into a delicate scrunchie.

He stepped closer, so close I could feel the faint brush of his coat against my arm. "Hold still," he said softly.

My heart hammered in my chest as he reached for my hair, his fingers grazing the back of my neck as he gathered the unruly strands. His touch was gentle but sure, and I could feel the warmth of his breath against my temple.

Time seemed to stretch as he worked, his focus entirely on me. When he tied my hair back with the makeshift scrunchie, his hand lingered at the nape of my neck, his thumb brushing against my skin in a way that sent heat racing through me.

"There," he said, his voice quieter now. "Much better."

I couldn't look away from him, couldn't breathe properly. The space between us felt charged, heavy with something I couldn't name.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He didn't respond, but his gaze lingered on mine for a moment longer before he stepped back, the absence of his touch leaving an ache I couldn't explain.

"We leave at dawn, tomorrow," he said quietly, and with that, he turned and walked back toward the house.

I stood there, staring at the flowers I'd brought back to life, feeling more lost than ever.

Authors note:

Thank you for reading, pls don't forget to vote and comment. Love y'all.