"Young love tends to be based on nothing but feelings. The couple has not yet faced and overcome a challenge or difficulty together. They are passionate about each other. They think about each other constantly and want to spend all their time"
Isaac...
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I woke up slower than usual, the weight of the night before pressing down on me like a thick blanket I couldn't shake off.
I was surprised I got any sleep at all. From what I remember... I was terrified.
So scared that I'd lost control like that.
I didn't even understand how it happened — one second I was scared, and the next it was like something inside me snapped, like someone cut a wire I didn't even know existed.
I'd never felt power like that. Not like that.
I knew my mom's side was powerful — a whole witch line traced back generations, but she never let me test it. Never let me near the edge of what I could do. Now I knew why.
And what scared me more was how easy it was to lose myself in it.
Peter wanted me to kill Stiles. And I don't know how, but he knew exactly how to get to me. How to twist the knife, to dangle the right bait.
I couldn't stop thinking about it. About how my mom had told him she owed him. Owed him.
For what?
There was something missing. I could feel it in my bones, the way you can sense when a lie's hovering in a room even if no one says a word.
My whole life she'd kept me in a box. Who I could hang out with, what I could do, how much magic I was allowed to use.
And now it made sense.
She wasn't protecting me.
She was hiding me.
And it wasn't until I got caught up with Scott and the rest of them that everything started cracking.
So many missing pieces.
And just like that — another one. The body that had been next to me just a few hours ago... gone.
Isaac.
He'd stayed the night, held me, made the monsters go quiet for a little while.
And now?
Nothing.
Just the memory of his arms around me and the ghost of how it felt to finally, finally feel safe.
I let out a breath, sitting up and looking toward his window. It was shut like usual.
I knew he had to leave. I knew what waited for him at home, and that made the empty spot next to me hurt even more.
I couldn't keep pretending like it was okay. Like him sneaking out in the middle of the night to avoid his dad was normal.
But what was I supposed to do? If I said something... if I dragged it into the light, he'd end up in foster care, and that was its own kind of hell.
