Chapter 5 Kaia
Kaia
We move.
Because I said so. Because Seren is out there. Because sitting still feels like waiting to die.
Kieran disagreed. I watched his golden eyes hold mine—ancient authority versus someone who’s done listening. He backed down.
Damn right he did.
Now everyone’s following in silence, exhausted and pissed off, and I’m pretending my hands don’t shake every time I adjust my pack.
Mouse perches on my shoulder, tail twitching against my neck. Bob’s at my right, bristling. Patricia walks beside me, notebook blazing—scribbling what, I don’t know, but it looks aggressive.
The newer shadows keep glancing at the trees like something’s going to step out.
My legs ache. My chest feels tight. The bonds pull in directions that don’t make sense.
Keep moving. Just keep moving.
I look back. Finn’s near the front, quieter than usual. His chaos magic sparks but doesn’t spiral. Malrik stays close to him, shadows softer around them both.
Torric and Aspen seem restless, their magic flaring as steam rises between them.
Kieran keeps his distance, watching me like I’m about to break.
I won’t.
Something’s off.
They’re judging me. Have to be. For Darian. For claiming him when I don’t even know what that means.
Finn won’t look at me.
Malrik’s hiding something.
Kieran’s angry.
I’m being paranoid. Right?
But the bonds feel wrong—strained, pulling, like wounds that won’t close.
And my shadows are acting weird.
Walter drifts toward the trees, pulses once, then floats back. He does this three times in five minutes.
Carl vibrates too fast, like a compass that can’t find north.
Linda keeps tugging shadows backward, forcing them into formation.
Bob stops walking entirely and just stares into the woods, edges flaring.
Mouse growls low. A warning.
It’s exhaustion. Or the weirdness in the bonds. Or hell, maybe it’s nerves because Darian’s somewhere behind us, bound and guarded, and I swear I can feel the resignation in his soul.
It’s not that.
The pulse hits without warning.
Sharp. Static. My heartbeat glitches.
I stumble.
Mouse hisses, claws digging into my shoulder.
Bob flares so hard his edges warp.
“Not now,” I whisper. “Please not now.”
It pulls again. Stronger. Insistent.
I clutch my chest, pressing my palm over my ribs like I can smother it.
They’re around me before I can wave them off. Too close. Heat and cold and magic pressing in from all sides.
It feels like drowning.
“I’m fine,” I mutter.
Kieran’s voice cuts through. “Kaia—”
“I said I’m fine.”
Silence.
“We stop here,” Kieran says.
I push forward between Malrik and Finn. “No. We keep moving.”
“We assess before crossing.” He gestures toward the river cutting through the forest ahead—wide, fast-moving, the current dark.
“No. We move. Now.”
His jaw tightens. “Kaia—”
“We’re not stopping.”
The silence stretches between us.
Kieran exhales slowly, then nods once. “Five minutes. Then we cross.”
I turn away before he can see my hands shaking.
I walk to the river’s edge, needing air and space and the fucking bonds to stop screaming.
Mouse leaps down, settling near my feet. Bob positions himself at my side. Patricia hovers close, notebook dim but watchful.
I try to focus. Breathe. Calm the shadows clustering too tight.
Ignore the pull I feel to Darian that’s now impossible to ignore.
Then everything stops at once.
Bob freezes as Mouse bristles, ears flat.
Patricia’s notebook goes dark.
Walter appears again, pulsing frantically.
Carl launches himself sideways like he’s dodging something I can’t see.
I scan the trees.
It’s just a forest, but it feels wrong. There’s no birds chirping, not even rustling leaves. Even the wind stops.
“Something’s not right,” I whisper.
I hear footsteps behind me. Kieran.
His hand touches my shoulder—
And then everything detonates.
The creature explodes from the treeline.
Massive, with mangy fur matted with something dark. Bone spikes jut from its spine at wrong angles. Its limbs bend in ways that shouldn’t work. Eyes too intelligent. Too aware.
An evolved version of the beasts that attacked us the first time we entered Absentia.
Twisted. Corrupted. Wrong.
It charges straight at me.
Before I can blink, Kieran throws himself in front of me.
The creature slams into him with the force of a battering ram. I hear the impact—bone against muscle, air punching from his lungs—and then he’s airborne, crashing into a tree with a sickening crack.
He crumples to the ground.
“Kieran!” I scream.
Finn’s chaos magic explodes outward—wild, arcing through the air like lightning with nowhere to ground. Torric’s flames erupt beside him, heat washing over the clearing in visible waves.
Mouse launches toward the creature, a streak of violet fury.
Bob doubles in size, edges sharp as broken glass.
Patricia’s notebook blazes so bright it hurts to look at.
And Darian—somewhere behind us, bound and guarded—flinches. I feel it through the bond. Like he took the blow himself.
My shadows go feral.
The ground shudders beneath my feet. My wings burst free as darkness pours from my hands, wild and uncontrolled, rage and fear igniting magic I can’t contain.
Blood streaks down Kieran’s temple. He’s breathing—harsh, shallow—but his eyes won’t focus.
He’s down. Not dead. But not fighting.
The creature turns back toward me.
It charges again.
I don’t have time to breathe.