THE THIRD BOOK IN THE NADINE SERIES
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Well, they did it. They made it back to 2019, but at what price?
Or
You know that funny situation where you go back to the future but everything has changed and no matter how many times you try to stop the apoc...
"Come rest your bones next to me And toss all your thoughts to the sea I'll pull up each of our anchors So we can get lost, you and me
My heart is buried in Venice Hidden beneath all my worries and doubts My heart is buried in Venice Waiting for someone to take it home"
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CHAPTER 14: FIRE BURNING
Naturally, one would assume that when someone dies, they stay dead. Especially someone who died around 300 years ago.
What the fuck?
"Wren, you're alive!" The girl gasped, smacking her hands over her mouth. The wind blew between them, pushing their hair across their faces. It whistled a sweet tune, despite the destruction it's spreading. "What- How- I mean— huh?" Nadine stammered.
She couldn't comprehend it. It was impossible. Does the coven know?
"They're the ones that brought me back."
The girl inhaled, furrowing her brows in confusion. Did she just..? How did she know what I was thinking?
"Oh, that's right. You never had any living relatives of the coven with you. Well, we can speak telepathically."
Nadine gasped again, letting out a quick and sharp breath.
She felt herself struggling to breathe and walked away from the teen, towards the side of the building.
"Oh, come on. You're so dramatic. Just breathe." The now-alive witch clutched her hands behind her back — slowly joining Nadine — who glared at her.
"I'm sorry that it's going to take me more than a second to comprehend this." The girl spoke once her breathing leveled more.
"No apologies necessary." Branwen smirked, crossing her arms over her sweater clad chest.
She was dressed the same as she always had. A tight sweater and a small plaid skirt. A neat ponytail sat on the back of her head with a black headband pushing her hair back. Her matching crew socks and shiny, black shoes were a stark contrast from Nadine's — somehow already dirty — new Vans and plain black ankle socks.
She cleared her throat. "Okay. So, you're alive."
Wren rolled her eyes. "Wow, Sherlock. You gathered that yourself, did you?" She spoke sarcastically.
