Chapter 8
DAYS BLURRED INTO ONE another in the best kind of way. Early mornings, long walks, shared meals that turned into long conversations and even longer silences that somehow said more. Every scrap of free time they had, they spent it together, trying to make up for all the moments they’d missed before.
Now, in the hush of night, Gael lay still beside her, one arm tucked behind his head, the other curved loosely around her waist. Her breath rose and fell against his chest in even pulses.
The bond between them, once an ache and a question, had settled. It was real, solid. Every brush of her energy against his own felt like a thread weaving them closer.
His leave was nearly up. In less than a week, duty would reclaim him, and everything about this magical stretch of borrowed time would have to be redefined.
He needed to talk to her, to stop dancing around the truth of what would come next.
Once he returned to his life as a bonded male, things would change.
He knew his people. For all their powers and supposed wisdom, they could be cruel.
Beth had every right to decide if she wanted to walk into it.
And should she decide that life wasn’t for her? Then he would step down from it. From all of it. He’d rebuild himself here with her. It would be hard, but not harder than being away from her.
So yes. They would figure it out.
Not now. Now, in the stillness of night with her tangled around him, it was only for him.
When her phone buzzed and rang on the nightstand, his first instinct was to silence it and guard her sleep.
But he knew better. Beth wouldn’t thank him for shielding her from what she might need to face.
Because nothing good ever came by a phone call at this time of the night.
She stirred on her own after the second ring, brow furrowing as she pushed herself up on one elbow.
“What... what time is it?” she murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“A little past three,” he said, reaching for the phone and passing it to her.
She took it without thinking, her fingers brushing his. “Yeah?” she answered groggily.
Gael could hear the voice on the other end—high, breathy, and laced with confusion.
“I... I think I’m lost.”
Beth snapped fully awake, her posture tightening like a pulled string. Her aura flickered, the soft golden undertone sharpening with alarm. “Ann? What happened?”
“I’m not sure, I... my head hurts so bad.”
The slur in her speech set Gael’s nerves on edge. Something was obviously wrong. He felt Beth’s worry spike like a flare in the dark.
“Are you safe? Can you tell me where you are?”
“Yeah, um, I’m outside. In the forest. I can see... lights, I think?”
Gael reached for her arm, his touch gentle. “Tell her not to worry,” he said quietly. “We’re coming.”
She nodded, and the fear in her eyes echoed in every fiber of his body.
He swallowed down a hot pulse of anger rising beneath his skin, calling for him to protect her and punish whoever scared her.
This wasn’t the time for fury. Beth needed steadiness, not fire.
So he exhaled slow and even, and the only outward sign of his temper was the way his jaw clenched.
He got out of bed and began pulling on his clothes. Beside him, Beth moved quickly, phone still pressed to her ear. “We’re coming. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Tell her not to move if she’s safe,” Gael said as he pulled on his shirt.
She relayed the message.
“I think I am. No one is here. No one is here and... I don’t know, Beth. I don’t know.”
Beth’s voice was gentler now, but no less urgent. “We’ll get to you.”
“Okay. I think I’ll nap while I wait...”
The call disconnected.
Beth’s swearing was hard and vicious under her breath, then turned to him. “How are we going to find her? She’s by herself and something’s not right. Ann doesn’t do drugs, she barely even drinks.”
Fully dressed now, he took her hand as they stepped outside. “We’ll find her.” The night temperatures hadn’t yet turned cruel, but they were starting to bite—cold air already whispering its warnings. Mist curled around their feet, and the swollen moon painted the world in silver and secrets.
The forest never slept.
It watched. It breathed. It remembered.
Gael dropped all his shields, the ones that dulled the constant pull of the land beneath his feet, and opened himself to it completely. Earth magic surged in his chest, powerful and attuned. “She’s not alone,” he murmured in a voice laced with power. “The forest is alive, and the forest protects.”
They reached the edge of the trees, where Beth’s road gave way to wilderness. In the hush of moss and loam, Gael dropped to one knee. He pressed a hand to the forest floor, fingers splayed wide, and closed his eyes.
The magic of the elves, a pact with the spirits of nature that was older than kings and never broken, ran through him as he reached out.
The forest answered the call, welcomed him like an old friend.
The ground thrummed under his palm with the slow, ancient life of roots.
Leaves rustled, though no wind stirred, the trunks creaking softly as if leaning in to listen.
And threaded through them, he felt the watchful presence of the spirits stirred by his call, their attention shifting toward him like the turning of leaves in a windless wood.
Show me where you cradle her, he asked.
There was nothing for a breathless moment, then fireflies blinked to life.
A nearby vine unraveled and pointed east, trembling with urgency. The underbrush rustled, parting just slightly, as if the forest had opened a path just for him.
Even without it, he would know.
The spirits had spoken into him.
Gael rose, then bowed to the forest in reverence. “The forest has her. It will keep her safe.”
Beth blinked at him. “You... you talked to the forest?”
“I asked,” he said, taking her hand again. “And it answered.”
The fireflies gathered, dancing in a slow spiral ahead of them, lighting a path through the bramble. Ahead of them, trees beckoned. “She’s not far,” he said. “But we’ll move faster if I carry you.”
Beth, still wide-eyed and shaken, nodded.
Gael scooped her into his arms without another word and took off running, the forest clearing a path before him like it remembered his stride. He moved fast, feet silent on the ground, the world blurring past them in streaks of silver.
He could smell Ann now; her scent was faint but traceable, wrapped in confusion and fear. Her emotional trail hung like a tangled ribbon in the air, and he followed it without hesitation. But then something else hit him. A sour thread beneath the confusion. Familiar. Unwelcome.
Rage flared, sharp and merciless.
Bryn.
He clenched his jaw, muscles tightening with the effort it took not to unleash the raw magic boiling under his skin.
Beth was in his arms. Her pulse thudded, worried, scared.
She wasn’t panicking, but she was watching him, possibly wondering what got him to the edge.
And even with her own emotions swirling, she reached up, brushed her fingers lightly along his neck, grounding him.
Maybe she didn’t even realize what she was doing, but it worked.
The path narrowed as they came to a moss-draped clearing, and there, curled up in the crook of an ancient tree, was Ann.
The forest had gathered around her like a guardian. Thick moss had grown beneath her, a cushion of emerald green. Vines draped low to shield her from the bite of the cold. Fireflies still hovered, casting a glow that clung like warmth.
Beth slipped from his arms before he could stop her and dropped to her knees. “Ann?” she called softly, touching her shoulder, then gently turning her.
Ann stirred with a sleepy blink. “Oh hey,” she mumbled. “I’m so sorry I dragged you here. Hi Gael.”
“Hello, Ann,” he said, crouching beside her.
He reached for her hand and opened the connection, scanning her carefully.
He exhaled when he found no fresh wounds, physical or otherwise.
The emotional damage was there, layers of it, but not from tonight.
“She wasn’t hurt,” he murmured to Beth, his tone grave.
Because the air still whispered of menace.
Rage. Frustration. Bryn’s. “He left before doing any real damage.”
Beth, gently brushing Ann’s hair back from her clammy forehead, looked up to him with a frown. “You know who did this?”
He stood slowly, chaining his magic. Not here. Not yet. “Bryn. I can smell him. Sense his magic, his emotions, they’re all over this place.”
Beth’s breath caught, horror flashing across her face. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Gael said, voice tight. “But I will find out.”
He made sure to bury the fury rising inside him, deep and out of sight, before turning back to Ann. “Let’s go home, shall we?”
“That sounds so good,” she murmured, attempting to sit up, but she gave out with a soft cry. She clutched her temple, wincing in pain.
“Let me help.” Gael scooped her into his arms with care.
He glanced at Beth, and whatever words he’d meant to say vanished.
Gratitude, fierce and shining was in her eyes, laced with something else.
A fury that matched his own. It made him want to find Bryn and rip his mind out from him and bury it in the deepest layer of the earth, where it would burn.
The walk back was slower.
Gael moved at a human pace, careful not to jostle Ann too much.
Beth walked beside him, whispering soft, silly things to her friend, anything to keep her calm.
Ann dozed in and out, managing the occasional sleepy chuckle.
When they finally reached the house, Beth hurried ahead to fix her own bed, but one look reminded them both why that wouldn’t do.
“I think I’ll pull out the couch for her,” she muttered, wincing.