Elijah
I don’t believe in fate. Or destiny. But something about Kara pulls me in like gravity. It’s not just her fire, the fierce edge to her voice or how her eyes flash silver-blue in the sunlight. It’s what she hides beneath it all.
I see it in the small things. I want to ask her about a lot of things. But I’m scared.
Not of her. Of what she might say.
We’d been walking for hours, through the brittle remains of the forest, past the rocky outcrops where the wind screamed like a lost ghost, the darkest part of this woods. Kara never stopped moving, her eyes sharp and wary. I’d never seen anyone move with such guarded grace. Like a wild animal who’s survived too many traps.
We paused at the edge of a cliff, the sun bleeding gold over the valley below.
I looked at her. She was sitting
