6. Bree
Bree
The world comes back in pieces.
Sound first—the low thrum of something heavy moving, steady as breath. Then warmth. Not much, but enough to make me realize how cold I’ve been.
A voice murmurs nearby, too low to understand. Another answers. The words blend together, deep and soft, like waves hitting stone.
Light filters through my lashes—silver and black, pulsing like veins beneath skin.
I’m still in the Void.
My body tenses on instinct, but the panic doesn’t come. Not this time.
Because something’s different.
The realization should terrify me. It doesn’t.
Then the smell hits me.
Smoke. Fire. Leather. Them.
The air isn’t biting anymore—it hums. Low, warm, alive. The kind of magic that doesn’t hurt to breathe.
I force my eyes open.
Shapes come into focus slowly: Gray’s wolf form curled near my feet, motionless but watchful.
Rhett kneeling beside someone—Stellan, maybe.
Jace standing guard with a blade that catches the silver light.
Theo’s hands pressed together like he’s praying.
Wes leaning over Seth, his expression torn between fear and something else.
And beyond them—
Creatures .
For a heartbeat I think I’m dreaming them. Massive, horned silhouettes rising out of the mist. Smoke rolling from their hooves. Silver eyes burning like stars.
But the Ether doesn’t recoil.
It stretches toward them.
I can feel it—those invisible threads inside me loosening for the first time in forever, touching theirs, recognizing something ancient and familiar at the same time.
Then a voice flows through my mind.
You are safe now, my queen.
Not a question. A vow.
Movement everywhere—heads turning, bodies shifting. All of them looking at me at once.
Gray’s wolf form lifts, ears forward. Rhett’s hand stills mid-gesture. Stellan’s head snaps up from where he’s kneeling. Jace’s blade lowers. Theo’s eyes widen. Wes goes perfectly still.
They heard it too.
I’ve forgotten what their presence feels like.
My chest aches with the effort of breathing, but the fear doesn’t come. Just warmth spreading slowly through my ribs, my pulse syncing with the rhythmic sound of the men around me.
Rhett moves closer to me, firelight catching the worry in his eyes.
“Bree?”
I want to answer. I think I do. But the world tilts again, and the silver light folds over me like a blanket.
The last thing I feel is warmth—real, impossible warmth—seeping through my bones.
Then nothing.