-Soren-
I walked away before I asked her another question I didn't have the right to ask.
The corridor stretched long and cold, cloaked in twilight shadows and the lingering hum of magic. My boots echoed on the stone floor, but the rhythm did nothing to settle the storm behind my ribs. I could still feel it—her. Her magic hadn't just touched the room; it had stained it. The kind of raw, ancient power that didn't fade. It clung to the walls, pressed into the back of my neck like someone breathing too close.
Alexia Mae Carter.
New girl. Unknown lineage. Shadow hound familiar. Wild nature magic. Now? A living anomaly. She had bonded with an Elaren vine—one of the most temperamental flora in our world—and instead of recoiling, it bloomed. Not gently. It surged like it had been starved and was suddenly drowning in sunlight. That wasn't just magic. It was an invocation.
I paused by the west courtyard archway, out of sight but close enough to feel her power ebbing from the classroom, vibrating through the walls like distant thunder. Even Zeus's shadow signature had flared brighter after she touched the plant. Years of training had taught me how to read powerful fae illusions, dark arts, and elemental bursts. But nothing accounted for that. It wasn't a fluke. It was a sign. A warning. A promise. Maybe all three.
I pushed off the pillar, jaw tight. I'd seen power like that before, years ago, when the Council decided a boy with "too much potential" was better locked in iron than given a chance to learn control. Power didn't scare me. But what the Council did with power was. And what it could turn Alexia into if they got to her first.
I needed answers. Not whispers or Council half-truths. Real ones. From the only people who could help me see the bigger picture. If Alexia was about to rip a hole in our world, we needed to decide if we were meant to stop it or stand beside her when it broke open.
The stone steps spiraled toward the old music tower, where we met when we didn't want ears on us—no Council spies. No professors. Just the four of us: the royals of Whisperwind. Bound by blood, war, and secrets too heavy to name. The door creaked shut behind me. Dust and varnish hung in the air, sunlight pouring through stained glass in fractured patterns of gold and crimson. Asher paced near the grand piano, fingers drumming in a sharp rhythm. Jasper lounged on the velvet couch, eyes tracking every movement like a cat with a bird. Finn stood near the arched window, the sunset outlining the dragonmark through his shirt. They hadn't seen what I saw.
"I need to talk about Alexia." My voice cut through the quiet.
They turned, the air shifting from casual to knife-edged focus.
"She bonded with the Elaren vine. It didn't just respond. It reacted. Half the room turned into a jungle before Maren stabilized it."
Finn frowned. "Impossible. The Elaren only responds like that to lifelong guardians."
"It wasn't just growth," I said, stepping forward. "It was resonance. Like it recognized her."
Jasper leaned forward, boots thudding softly. "That's deeper than aptitude. That's alignment. Maybe even predestined."
Asher stopped pacing, narrowing his eyes. "So, what? She's a druid queen now?"
"She was scared," I said. "Not of the plant. Of herself."
That stopped everyone.
Finn turned from the window. "So she's powerful, bonded to a shadow hound, and terrified of her own potential."
"She's not dangerous," I said quietly. "But she could become something uncontainable if the wrong people get involved."
Jasper's smirk faded. "The Council."
"They'd mark her," I said. "Test her. Cage her if she didn't cooperate."
Finn exhaled. "There's more to this. I feel it. A thread pulling us all toward her."
Silence. The truth we had felt but never spoken.
"I've dreamed of her," Jasper said softly. "Before she arrived. I thought it was just fae nonsense. But now?"
Asher grunted. "She annoys me. Gets under my skin. But not in a 'fight her' way. Like I'm supposed to know her."
"I didn't want to admit it," Finn said. "But I've felt it too. It's not romantic. Not yet. It's... magnetic."
"There's something ancient in her," I said. "Something waking up."
Asher raked a hand through his hair. "So what? We're babysitters now?"
"No." I met each of their eyes. "We protect her. Guide her. The Council doesn't get wind of this until we know what she is."
Jasper's eyes glinted. "We watch her. Not just to study, but to understand."
Finn nodded. "We're not just curious. We're connected."
Asher looked between us. "You think it's fate?"
I shook my head. "I think it's instinct. And we ignore it at our own risk."
Tension crackled as Jasper and Asher locked eyes.
Finn raised a hand. "We need a plan. We can't trip over each other."
"Rotate," Jasper suggested. "Each of us keeps her close. Not to control her, but to help her. Teach her."
"She's not fragile," Asher muttered. "But fine. If we do this, we do it right. No lies. No games."
"The moment the Council suspects—" Finn began.
"We handle it," I finished. "Together."
The bell tolled across the courtyard, dusk-heavy and low. In the tower, silence fell—a silence thick with understanding. Outside, life went on. But in this high, hidden place, something shifted. Something old. Something wild. Something inevitable. We weren't just drawn to her. We were bound. And we were only beginning to understand what that meant.