Never ownED myself

Trust

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Trust is earned, not just with words,
But when actions match what's heard.
MJ1
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It had been raining. Now the sky was quiet, but Annie's magic was still out of control, surging through her body like a current she couldn't resist. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, revealing the treetops far below the ravine where she stood.

Leah was gone. She had vanished the moment Tom appeared. Her ache was too raw and too recent. Tom got closer enough that she could feel the warmth of his spell heating her cold body. Her muscles relaxed and so did the weather. He had a strange effect on Annie's mind and magic. The storm had passed, only thunder rolled in the distance, echoing the tension inside her.

Tom moved closer. Her chin turned instinctively toward him. Her heart raced as their eyes met.

He didn't speak. He knew this moment mattered. He stayed still, offering silence and patience, waiting for her to trust him. She hesitated, but his stillness chipped away at her resistance.

She had to say it. Even if it was hard and scary to hear it out loud. Her voice cracked. "Do you even understand what I am? How little I know about this world?" She sucked in a breath, bracing for what she had to say next. "I could've killed you! Don't you get that? I'm a monster! I don't even know what I'm capable of. That's terrifying."

She shook with the weight of the truth. The words finally said, loud and raw.
I'm scared of myself.
The thought echoed in her mind. It had haunted her since the day the informant died revealing that her father was still alive. No one had questioned what happened back then. But Annie remembered enough. Three fully trained werewolves had been taken down by her hands, and she had no memory of doing it. The man's dying spell had shown her only the aftermath and her own bloodied hands.

She looked down at her fingers now, as if the sight could anchor her.

"I'm not human. I'm not even a regular paranormal creature. I might not even have a soul," she said, her voice rising. Images flashed through her mind, visions of herself possessed by rage, magic surging through her body, lightning crackling from her hands, claws tearing through a werewolf's chest. Leah insisted it wasn't Annie, but Annie wasn't so sure. Something else lived inside her, something terrible.

Tom placed a hand gently on her shoulder and met her eyes again. The storm inside her mind quieted.

"No," he said softly, "you wouldn't kill me. Hurt me, maybe. But I asked for it."
His green eyes were unshakable, pulling her toward him like magnets. How could he be so certain when she wasn't?

"You're wrong to trust me," she said, trying to pull away. "I don't have control over myself yet. I'm dangerous. You should stay away."

He cupped her face, and she couldn't look away. His eyes held her still.

A memory surfaced. The last time her mother had shown any warmth. A soft pat on the head before work. Hours later, Annie had been taken. Leah had awakened for the first time, saving Annie's life. But the price had been steep. Leah was sealed away by a coven of witches. Annie had been shipped off to another state, far from home. Her family held a funeral. They had erased her existence.

Her eyes stung. My mother was too afraid of what I was. She thought.

His hand rested gently on her head.
"I told you. I'm with you until you ask me to leave," Tom murmured.

Her jaw trembled. She leaned into him, resting her forehead on his shoulder hiding her face. He wrapped an arm around her and quietly patted her back.

Relief washed over her, soft and sudden. As if the grip on her heart had loosened. A weight she she hadn't realized was there.