Mozart headbutted her hand, demanding attention. She scratched behind his ears absently, lost in the memories of that dark time. "I'd lie awake at night making lists in my head - all the places I'd never see, all the experiences I'd never have." She winced, "Kind of like that Rihanna song, Roulette. Which is so awful, I can't listen to it, because it triggers me."
Mandy shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself. "And that was just from being disabled," she whispered. "Just from losing mobility and having to adapt to limitations. I can't even imagine what it would be like to know..." Her voice cracked, and she had to take a deep breath before continuing. "To know Ihad a specific amount of time left. Six months. A year. However long."
"I don't want to imagine what would be happening inside my head, knowing there was a countdown." The words came out in a rush, as if speaking them quickly would make them less real. "Watching the calendar, marking off days, knowing each one brings me closer to..."
"The waiting would destroy me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Watching it approach, day by day, hour by hour." Her hands trembled slightly as she lifted them to brush back a stray lock of hair. "I don't think I could handle that kind of... anticipation."
She shivered involuntarily. "Plus there's the matter of my kitties. I don't have any real-life friends, only online ones. Who would notice if I died? It might take forever before someone discovered me, and by then..." She swallowed hard. "My poor cats. The thought haunts my dreams. I have these awful nightmares where I suddenly remember my cats in some hidden place, forgotten for so long. I rush there in panic to find them barely hanging on, and though I save them at the last second..."
She broke off, one hand covering her mouth as she blinked back tears, her heart racing with remembered horror.
"I wake up crying, hating myself for forgetting them, for starving them. Even though I know it's just a dream, itfeelsreal. The emotions stay with me for days. I feel like I'm going mad because Iknowit's not real, but..." She touched the pendant, seeking comfort. "Understanding it comes from my fear of dying alone, of no one finding them - that logical explanation doesn't stop the nightmares from overwhelming me."
Kieran's expression was thoughtful. "So your wish - if you decided to make one for this - would be a guarantee that when death comes, you won't know it's happening. And that someonewould find both you and your cats right away, ensuring they'd end up at a shelter where new families could take them in."
"Yes," Mandy breathed with relief. "You do understand."
"I can ease your concerns about one thing." His lips twitched in that familiar way - not quite a full smile, which she'd realized was typical for him. "And it won't cost you a wish. You've earned a place in Jacinth's heart as something like family. There's no scenario where you could pass away without her knowing almost right away. And knowing her nature, she'd never let your cats end up in a shelter or rescue organization. She'd either welcome them into her own home or ensure they went to someone she deeply trusts. That's simply the kind of person Jacinth is."
"I can't thank you enough," Mandy whispered with heartfelt gratitude. "You have no idea what a weight you've lifted from my shoulders."
Chapter
Fifteen
Kieran watchedMandy's face as emotions flickered across her features - hope warring with fear, possibility wrestling with decades of learned limitations.
Acting on an impulse he hadn't felt in decades, he leaned forward slightly in his chair. "Tell me," his deep voice gentled, "when you could walk freely, where did you most enjoy going?"
The question seemed to catch her off guard. She blinked at him, her brow furrowing as she reached back through memories.
"Reid Park," she said finally, a soft smile lighting her features. "There's this beautiful lake there, with all these walking paths around it." Her eyes grew distant with remembrance. "The ducks and geese would waddle up to visitors, hoping for treats. And once..." Her smile widened. "Once I saw a cormorant there. Just sitting on a branch sticking out of the water, spreading its wings to dry in the sun."
Kieran absorbed the simple joy in her expression as she described this cherished memory, and something within him stirred, responding to her wistful tone. How long had it been since she'd walked those paths? How many years since she'd stood by that lake, watching waterfowl glide across its surface?
Kieran rose from his chair in one fluid motion, extending his hand toward Mandy. "Come walk in the park with me for a while."
Her forest green eyes widened in surprise, darting between his offered hand and his face. "What? How?"
"A temporary healing spell," he explained, his deep voice carrying that otherworldly resonance that made the air vibrate slightly. "It will last perhaps two or three hours, but during that time you will be free of pain and disability."
He observed the rapid play of emotions across her expressive features - hope warring with disbelief, yearning clear in her gaze. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for his, hesitating just before making contact.
"It won't harm you," he assured her, keeping his voice gentle. Her vulnerability touched something within him he'd thought long buried under centuries of duty and protocol. How long had it been since he'd felt such an urge to ease another's suffering? "And it will give you a taste of what your wish could accomplish permanently."
Her fingers were warm as they finally settled into his palm. Such a small hand, he marveled, yet it held such strength. He could feel the years of pain and determination in her grip as she used his support to pull herself up from the chair.
"You mean..." She swallowed hard, those green eyes searching his face. "I'll be able to actually walk? Without pain?"
Kieran allowed a small smile to curve his lips, an expression that felt foreign after so many centuries of maintaining his austere demeanor. "Yes. Shall we visit your lake?"
He watched as Mandy automatically reached for her cane, propped against the side of her recliner. Her movements were so practiced, so ingrained after decades of dependency. He caught her wrist gently before her fingers could close around the metal handle.
"You won't need that," he said, his deep voice resonating with certainty.
"Oh, right." Her cheeks colored a little with embarrassment. "So, how does it work?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Instead of answering immediately, Kieran took both her hands in his. Her fingers were warm against his palms, trembling slightly with uncertainty. The blue fire within him stirred, responding to his intent before he consciously called it forth.
