Chapter 4
Malakai has barely closed the door behind him when I let out a frustrated scream. I take a few more moments to get it out of my system and then step out as well—I need to blow off some steam.
The cold night air helps return some of my senses.
My heartbeat slows as I cross the road and enter the park.
My magic aches beneath my skin, making me bite the inside of my cheek.
As I step through the wrought iron gates, a trickle of ice-blue energy leaks out, brushing against the wards surrounding me.
The small contact reveals how Malakai has altered the net woven around the park after what happened earlier.
Despite my anger, a smile flickers across my face at the thought of him doing this for me.
I move forward, my feet leading me back to the bench from earlier.
I gaze at the water at my feet, feeling my magic build inside me, spurred on by my lingering anger.
It’s a vicious cycle, one feeding into the other.
Yet I have it mostly under control, so it doesn’t bother me as much as it once did.
I know anger can’t be my only driving force, and I hope to find something else to motivate me.
It can’t be the sole emotion fueling me because it’s not who I truly am.
It’s as if I have so much anger bottled up from my past life, I can’t stop it from surfacing now that I’ve opened that door.
It’s exhausting, and I genuinely hope to discover a different source of energy.
Even if I’m not there yet, I’ll find a way—eventually.
I suppose that’s exactly why I come here.
I look around at the greenery: the trees, the grass, and the pond in front of me.
Nature calms me, so perhaps I’ll be able to find my escape here once more—for myself and for my magic.
I sink to the ground and flex my fingers in the grass beneath me.
With my eyes closed, I attempt to steady my breathing, focusing on my other senses.
I inhale the green, earthy scent filling my nose, feeling the soft, warm blades tickle the bare palms of my hands.
The sound of a breeze rustles through the leaves, gently caressing my skin.
With a single thought, I release my magic.
It explodes from deep within, waves of beautiful yet lethal ice-blue light coiling around me and spreading out, illuminating my surroundings and stretching far into the darkness.
My magic courses through me like veins unfurling inside, and never before has my mind felt this quiet, this peaceful, yet brimming with potential.
I sense my own power within me and all around me.
For everything my magic touches, it returns something to me—the grass under my fingers, the water at my feet, the air brushing against my cheeks. It’s almost overwhelming.
As my magic rolls back from the trees, the grass, and the water, it fills my limbs with a rejuvenating blissful rush.
“That was quite the light show.”
I’m on my feet in an instant, magic charged and ready, my heart pounding in my chest. A dark silhouette stands beneath a tree, watching me. The fact my magic didn’t detect them sends a chill through my stomach. They step out of the shadows, and I raise my arms, poised to strike if needed.
They merely laugh. “No need to fear me, pet. At least not yet,” a silky yet dangerous voice drawls.
They lower the hood of their cloak, revealing their face—a striking visage.
Pale and smooth like porcelain, not a single imperfection, they possess a handsome yet androgynous allure.
Dark brown hair tumbles over one shoulder in a long ponytail.
They smile, revealing sharp canines, able to rip through flesh in an instant.
But what catches me off guard are their eyes—green, so light they’re almost translucent. Those green eyes…
A memory scratches at the back of my mind, trying to surface but just out of reach. Those eyes on me... why do they feel so familiar? Why do they make my skin crawl? Why can’t I remember?
I swallow hard, forcing myself not to step back. My stomach twists into a tight knot, and the cold night air suddenly freezes my skin.
“What do you want?” It’s a wonder my voice remains steady, though my hands tremble before me. A headache begins to throb between my eyes, worsening the longer those green eyes remain locked on me. Still, I can’t place them, though the horrible feeling deep in my gut tells me it’s better if I don’t.
“Merely to watch, to observe.”
“You’re already doing a lot more.” A blue glow ignites in my hands, a warning I won’t hesitate to defend myself.
“I am.” They laugh. “It seems curiosity got the better of me.” Their smile widens, teeth glinting. The more they speak, the more uneasy I become, and the more the familiar feeling of recognition builds within me. It makes my heart ache and constricts my throat.
“It seems my presence unnerves you,” they note, a statement I’m neither willing to deny nor confirm. “I shall take my leave, then, to show I mean no harm.” They pull their hood back up, take a single step back, and vanish into the shadows.
I hold my ground for several moments, my body remaining on high alert, uncertain if they have truly gone.
Eventually, I drop my arms by my side, releasing a shaky breath as my muscles start to relax.
My magic fizzles out, leaving a warm glow at the tips of my fingers, lingering for a few more seconds.
Only then do I realize what had been slowly taking hold of me in their presence: despair.
Have creatures like this always roamed this world?
If I had encountered them when I was human, I wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Even now, uncertainty gnaws at me. Frankly, I hope to never find out.
It’s wishful thinking. At some point, those who observe decide if they want to participate. They always do.