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I arrive at the western shore a few minutes before midnight. That’s how he told me to reach him: whisper his name into the wind at midnight. If he hears it, he will come.
I won’t pretend to understand the way his magic works, and there’s a part of me that worries he gave me false instructions just so I’d feel foolish whispering his name on the deserted beach.
And yet, when midnight arrives, I do exactly that. His name falls from my lips and drifts into the velvety black sky.
“Wolfe.”
I say it only once. I’m self-conscious enough already, whispering his name while holding the memory keeper I made for him. I know the evening we spent together didn’t carry the same weight for Wolfe as it did for me—he saved my life, and I will never forget it. But it also might be the only night that will ever be truly mine, a night off the path I’ve been walking my entire life.
I watch the waves as they roll onto the shore, and I’m suddenlyovercome with an urge to rush into the sea, to call up the wind and float above the water by moonlight. I want to be cradled by the Earth’s breath and invite the retreating waves back to where I stand.
I pace along the beach, trying to fight the desire that’s rising within me. I stop when Wolfe’s words rush back into my mind.
What should scare you most about tonight isn’t that you’re about to use high magic, Mortana. What should scare you most is that you’re going to want to use it again.
I swallow hard and let the realization crawl beneath my skin: I want to practice dark magic again. I didn’t know it until I was back on this beach, standing in the same place as before, reminded so vividly of the magic that coursed through my veins. But Wolfe was right, and it terrifies me.
I made a mistake by coming here.
I shove the memory keeper into my pocket and walk back up the beach. I hurry to the road that will lead me to the safety of my large house and dark bedroom, my mother’s watchful eyes and Landon’s sea glass.
The road that will lead me firmly back to the path I’m destined to walk.
I exhale when my feet leave the unstable rocky beach and touch the secure, steady pavement.
But then I hear his voice.
“Mortana?”
I tell my legs to run, to pick up speed and carry me back home, but they don’t listen. I slowly turn to see Wolfe walking up the beach, following my escape route.
“You called for me.” He tilts his head to the side but gives nothing away. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“I didn’t mean to,” I say, cringing at how ridiculous I sound. My eyes drift to the sidewalk.
He takes a step closer to me. “You didn’t?”
“I mean, I did, but then I changed my mind.” I need to stop talking. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”
My legs finally respond, and I hurry down the road but stop when his hand touches mine.
“It isn’t bad, you know.”
I inhale and make the catastrophic mistake of meeting his eyes.
“What isn’t?” I ask, already fearing his answer.
“Your pull toward high magic. I wanted you to find me again.”
I tense and make my next mistake when I ask him why.
“You have an incredible gift. How could you give that up?”
I take a step back. “Because I don’t want anything to do with your magic.”
“Then why are you here?” he asks, echoing my words from the last time we saw each other.
I take a deep breath and reach into my pocket. “I just wanted to thank you for what you did for me.”
