Chapter 10 - Naia
In ways, the silence is worse than arguing.
When we’re fighting, there’s something to push against and something to distract me from the fact that I’m essentially on house arrest. It’s somewhere to direct all the tension building under my skin, and to release some of it, even if it never goes anywhere productive.
When it’s quiet and Zane disappears into whatever he’s working on, leaving me alone with my thoughts…that’s when it gets unbearable.
Sitting on the edge of the couch, I stare at nothing while my foot bounces restlessly against the floor. The apartment feels smaller today, almost like the walls are inching closer with every second I stay here, and the longer I’m stuck here, the more I need to do something. Anything.
My fingers flex slowly as traces of magic hum faintly beneath my skin, like a quiet reminder of its presence.
It’s still strange to recognize it and to feel it like it’s always been there, just buried too deep for me to notice.
After the small outburst I had the other day, I can’t ignore it anymore.
It lingers, quiet and waiting, like something testing the edges of its own existence. Something I’m not at all familiar with.
I glance toward the hallway, where Zane disappeared into the other room not long ago. Hopefully, it buys me enough time.
Pushing myself up slowly, I move to the center of the living room, already noticing how my pulse picks up. It isn’t from fear, exactly, but the kind of anticipation that makes me wonder what it could lead to.
I’ve barely touched this…hardly explored this part of me that could either be a blessing or a curse. Either way, it seems to make me a target. And if I’m stuck here, then I might as well not waste time.
I lift my hand slightly, staring at it like it might give me answers, not at all knowing where to even start.
Then, I take a deep breath, muttering to myself under my breath, “Okay. Just…focus.”
On what, I have no idea, but I close my eyes anyway.
I try to remember the feeling from before, that pulse and the way it moved through me without permission. I reach for it now. Rather than on a physical level, I search within myself, as I might to draw out my inner wolf and initiate my shift.
For a while, nothing happens even while I concentrate on the barely-there hum under my skin. Then, without warning, I feel a flicker. At first, it’s soft and unsteady, causing my breath to catch.
Through my surprise, I let go of it and collected myself before trying again.
I concentrate harder, letting the restlessness fuel it, and allowing the frustration to bleed into something more controlled. Before I know it, the air around me changes, and a faint ripple brushes against my skin, like heat waves lingering in the distance.
When my eyes snap open, a small, almost invisible distortion hovers just above my hand, trembling as if it might disappear at any second.
Unable to bridle the excitement it brings me, realizing now that I have something useful to pull from, I grin to myself. “Okay…that’s something.”
I push a little more as I ride the high of progress, and as I hold it a moment longer, the ripple wavers, and at the slightest drop of concentration, it snaps out of existence.
Blinking and realizing it will likely take a long time for me to master something so unpredictable, I sigh to myself and sit back a bit. “Right. Still terrible at this.”
“I wouldn’t call it terrible.”
With a jolt, I glance over, catching Zane standing in the doorway with his arms crossed while he watches me.
I was so focused on seeing what I could do that I didn’t even sense him entering the room. The thought annoys me, but I push it aside.
“How long have you been standing there?”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Long enough.”
I scowl. “Creep.”
He ignores that, stepping further into the room. “That was controlled compared to before.”
Staring at him for a moment, I try to gauge his expression and body language, waiting for the reaming to begin. Instead, he looks just as calm as usual, and his words sound sincere.
“You’re not going to lecture me?”
His brow furrows slightly, like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “About what?”
“Using magic,” I gesture vaguely at where the ripple had been before it dissipated. “For losing control, and being a ‘liability.’”
The corner of his mouth twitches, and he considers his words before letting go of a simple response. “That’s tempting.”
I huff to myself and barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Of course it is.”
“But no,” Zane continues, sitting on the nearby love seat. “I’m more interested in what you’re doing.”
That throws me off more than if he’d started criticizing me, and for a beat, I don’t even know what to say. I clear my throat softly. “You’re actually interested?”
“Yeah.”
I hesitate, then I murmur, “I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’m just trying to figure it out. It’s not very impressive.”
Looking at me with genuine interest, he doesn’t entertain the latter statement. Instead, he asks, “How does it feel?”
Glancing at my hand again, a small piece of me worries this kind of thing might have an expiry, or that if I can’t find a way to control it, I might really become a problem for more than just Zane and his Alpha buddies.
“Like it was always there, just buried by everything else,” I answer, feeling strangely vulnerable in the moment.
Even if I used to tell Zane everything before, it’s been a while since I felt like I could do that freely. He was the only person I could lean on without fearing consequences.
“Dormant,” he suggests quietly.
I nod while I consider what that means. My wolf wasn’t ever something I struggled to reach, as some did, and getting stronger happened over time, as it was always meant to. For so long, I always assumed that was it. I never imagined I could be capable of something beyond the pack and wolf culture.
Silence settles between us, but it’s not tense this time. It’s strangely familiar.
“I didn’t even know I had this,” I say after a moment. “I spent my whole life training, pushing, and trying to prove I was more than what I was born as. All along, this was just sitting there.” My jaw tightens slightly as it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. “If it had shown up earlier…”
Zane watches me carefully, already filling in the blanks. “You think they would’ve used it. Your father and brother.”
It’s not a question, and I release a quiet breath in response. “Of course they would have.”
In Wraith Peak, it was more like a code to not waste advantages. In whatever ways we can, we use them. It’s how we survive, even if it means making enemies of our neighbors on the island.
The thought prickles under my skin, uncomfortable in a way I don’t want to examine too closely. It was something I had always been aware of, but could never really face. It was taught to me as a necessity.
“Maybe it’s better it didn’t then,” Zane says. “For your sake.”
I glance at him, studying him long enough to register his sincerity. Oddly enough, it was a surprisingly optimistic thing to come from him, and in some ways, I can see how getting away has changed him.
“You’re different now,” I find myself murmuring before I can stop myself.
Zane just shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal at all, when in fact, it definitely is. “It comes with leaving.”
I look away again, focusing on my hand and flexing my fingers while I can still feel the echo of that power. Something in me wants to do it again, just to know I can.
“I need to get better at this. Preferably as quickly as I can.”
“Why?”
I shoot him a look, knowing it should be obvious, given what I’ve been saying this entire time. The very thing we’ve been going in endless circles about. “Seriously?”
“I’m asking.”
“Because I went my entire life not knowing I had this,” I say, allowing the frustration to creep back in. “And now that it’s here, I’m behind.”
His brows furrow slightly. “Behind who?”
“Everyone,” I mutter. “Anyone else who’s had time to learn, to train, to master what they have. That magic being used to suppress me was a wake-up call, and I don’t even know how strong they really were.”
He watches me for a moment, then nods slightly, seemingly understanding my predicament to some degree. “That’s fair.”
I exhale slowly, not sure why the tension eases just a fraction.
I hesitate, not sure just how much I want to say to him, then I shake my head.
“It was outlawed in most places, but not Wraith Peak. Other packs treated it like a threat and something too dangerous to accept, but we never did. We saw it as an advantage.”
“That tracks,” Zane says as his gaze sharpens slightly. “In a way, that acceptance in itself was an advantage.”
“Still, it doesn’t mean they respected it,” I add. “It just means they didn’t shy away from it and used people to get to it. I’m not exactly innocent in that, but I never imagined I’d find myself in those shoes.”
He nods absently to himself, and before long, we both get lost in our own thoughts. The room goes quiet, and all I can focus on is the knots forming in my stomach at the mere idea of anyone knowing about the abilities I possess now.
Before, I would’ve willingly volunteered that information to my dad if I knew sooner, but after witnessing how other magic users were treated in our territory, and how quickly my own brother could change the way he viewed me, I wasn’t so sure.
Eventually, Zane sighs heavily, breaking the mutual stupor. “I had to leave.”
The shift catches me off guard, and I look at him, finding his gaze fixed somewhere else, looking more distant than usual. For whatever reason, it almost makes me feel bad for him.
“I couldn’t stay there,” he continues, swallowing like it might make the words come out easier. “Not like that, and not in those conditions.”
His vulnerable tone makes me go still. “You think I don’t get that?”
“I don’t know what you get anymore,” he admits, but not with harsh intentions.
Crossing my arms loosely, I lean back against the couch, wondering just how far he’ll allow this to go. “Try me.”
He exhales slowly, and for as guarded as he is, I still manage to see the gears practically turn in his head. He’s still calculating like usual, but at least he isn’t so cut off from his emotions.
“I didn’t leave because of you.”
The words reach me in a softer tone than I expect, and it makes something twist in me. “I know that.”
“Do you?”
“I do,” I return gently, holding his gaze while my heart squeezes more than I care to admit as the old, familiar stitches of hurt settle in again. “I wasn’t the center of your world, Zane.”
His eyes shift to meet mine again, and he looks more conflicted than before. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He hesitates. “I needed a different perspective. To meet different people who didn’t think like Wraith Peak wolves. I needed to know that others thought as I did, and to know I wasn’t losing my mind.”
I tilt my head slightly. “And that was enough to walk away?”
“In a way, yes. But that doesn’t mean it was easy. I had a lot of growing pains, even if it was what I wanted.”
Before I can stop it, the dull ache shifts in me, feeling even more uncomfortable now. Even if I knew that would be true, it hurts to hear it directly from him, even if it shouldn’t.
“I didn’t realize…” he begins before trailing off, then shakes his head slightly like it isn’t worth getting into.
“Realize what?”
When Zane looks at me, I notice the subtle shift in his expression. It’s the kind of softening he would undergo on rare occasions when I told him about especially difficult topics, but it was reserved for certain people. Rarely did he ever let his aloof mask slip in front of the others.
“It’s nothing.”
Narrowing my eyes, I bristle. “Stop evading questions and give me a real answer.”
But of course, he refuses with a shake of his head. “It’s the only one you’re getting.”
Instinctively, I want to snap back and to force it out of him somehow. Something in his expression stops me, and for a beat, I watch in my mind as that would inevitably play out, ending in a fight none of us can win.
So instead, I sigh and look away.
“You were easy to talk to,” I admit, the words slipping out unbidden.
The moment they do, I start to regret it, given how quiet he goes again. I feel his attention sharpen on me immediately, but I force myself not to crumble beneath the weight of it.
“You used to listen,” I continue, quieter now as those old memories and feelings rise to the surface.
“When I complained and vented. It didn’t matter what it was.
You just listened, and you never used it against me.
” I let out a short breath and absently rub my arm.
“I didn’t realize how much I relied on that until it was gone. ”
The admission feels like something that could make or break whatever exists between us, and yet, Zane doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t make a joke out of it or brush it off like my thoughts don’t matter.
Instead, he just listens like he used to.
“I missed that,” I add finally, words feeling heavier than they should. It’s far more honest than I’m comfortable with, and more honest than I’ve been with anyone in a while.
The quiet hesitation in the apartment is something I don’t quite know how to deal with yet, so I look away again, flexing my fingers and chasing the feeling of magic instead.
That somehow seems safer than whatever this is becoming, and whatever I’ll inevitably be forced to confront, despite how complicated it seems.