POV: Amethyst Walker
The morning mist in the Whispering Pines didn't lift so much as it dissolved, turning the air into a shimmering, pearlescent veil. After the encounter with the Forest Guardian, a strange sort of reverence had settled over the camp. The crews worked with a quiet intensity, their usual rough banter replaced by whispers. We were no longer just building a road; we were approaching a temple.
I stood in the passenger seat of the lead SUV, my hand resting on the dashboard. Jackson was driving, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. I could feel his concern through the bond—a low, humming frequency of protective instinct. He was constantly checking my vitals through our connection, worried that the accelerated growth of the twins was draining me.
He wasn't entirely
