The Witch Who Loved Him First
Amaris POV Time magic did not simply exist. It endured. It lingered in the air long after its casting, settled into the bones of objects that had carried its burden, and breathed in subtle, quiet pulses that no ordinary being would ever perceive. It did not crack loudly like glass, nor did it shatter in dramatic displays of light and destruction. Instead, it weakened in whispers, in hairline fractures and gentle resistances, in the slow erosion of certainty that could only ever be felt by those who had dared to bend its laws and lived long enough to feel its consequences. The pocket watch rested at the center of my worktable, surrounded by carefully arranged candles whose flames leaned toward it as if drawn by an invisible current, their light refracting across the fractured glass in de
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