I didn’t move for a long time after Killian disappeared into the shadows of Ridgeway’s back lot.
The wind had picked up, tugging at my hair, whispering through the trees like it was trying to tell me something.
Something I didn’t have the language for yet.
I folded my arms around myself, but the chill wasn’t from the cold.
It was deeper.
Internal.
Restless.
I started walking, not toward home but away from it.
I wasn’t ready to be inside.
Not with my skin itching like it didn’t quite belong to me and my ears still echoing with Killian’s words: You’re not ready yet. But you will be.
Every step I took, the wind seemed to follow me—curling around my ankles, brushing against the back of my neck.
I tried to shake it off, to ignore the way my senses had been sharpening.
I could h
