Shrouded Hearts

Chapter eleven

The dawn cast a pale glow over the dew-kissed meadow, tendrils of light weaving through the tall grasses like ethereal dancers. Aria stood amid this natural splendor, her golden brown eyes reflecting the nascent sun. She was alone, save for the burgeoning life she coaxed from the earth with every gentle breath of happiness that passed between her lips.

"Come to life," she whispered, and buds emerged, unfurling into vibrant flowers at her feet.

Yet as she turned, casting her gaze back towards the house, she saw him—a solitary figure, his presence as stark against the morning's softness as a raven's shadow. His smile for the fae had been kind but vacant, the warmth not reaching the dark depths of his eyes. And in those eyes, when they met hers, the familiar barricade had rebuilt itself, cold and impenetrable.

"Meet me in the field after your meal," Aria had told the fae earlier, her voice serene yet carrying an undercurrent of command. Now, as she waited, she surrendered to her emotions, letting them cascade through her like a river breaking free from winter's grasp.

As sorrow gripped her heart, the once vibrant sky above turned into a somber canvas painted with hues of gray and charcoal. The cheerful chorus of birds fell silent, their songs swallowed by the oppressive blanket of her melancholy. In her anger, she commanded the elements to obey her will; the winds bending to her fury and the creatures of the forest cowering in fear. She was a tempest unleashed, a force to be reckoned with, as she released her emotions into the world around her. Nature mirrored her turmoil, dark clouds swirling above and lightning crackling through the air, echoing the storm raging within her.

But then—a touch, feather-light, brushed against her bare shoulder. It sent a ripple through her being, an inexplicable quell to the storm within. Her magic stilled, her influence retracted like waves from the shore. She whirled around, strands of her long light brown hair catching the breeze, only to find Leo behind her, his hand the source of this sudden nullity.

"Your feelings," he began, his voice a low drawl tinted with curiosity, "show me how they fuel this power of yours."

"Leo, it's not that simple," Aria said, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. "I must feel them—truly feel them. They can't be summoned whenever I want—or you want."

His gaze on her was unyielding, as if dissecting the very essence of her words. Yet she couldn't bring herself to confess how his touch unraveled her abilities like threads plucked from a tapestry the more time they spent together.

"Try," he insisted, his tone edging on authoritative.
Aria felt the weight of his expectation press upon her, a heaviness that threatened to crush the spirit she so valiantly wielded. Her hands clenched into fists, the soil beneath her fingernails grounding her against the tide of confusion and helplessness that his proximity evoked.

"Emotions aren't puppets strung to your bidding," she protested, her voice steadier than she felt. "They are wild, untamed things that live within us."

"Then let them live," Leo countered, his eyes searching hers for something she couldn't decipher.

It became clear to Aria that she could not sustain this dance of wills. The war beckoned, its shadows lengthening with each passing day, and here she stood, caught between the pull of her powers and the enigma that was Leo Cameron. Her resolve hardened like steel tempered by fire; she would not succumb to bewilderment. Not when so much hinged upon her mastery of the gifts she bore.

She rolled her eyes, but inside she felt a surge of determination coursing through her veins.

She focused inward, drawing upon the tumultuous sea of emotions that awaited Leo's challenge. And as she braced herself for what was to come, the surrounding air seemed to thrum with anticipation, the very earth holding its breath for the tempest about to be unleashed.