HER REDEMPTION

Chapter 3

CHANTING SPELLS

Crimson Stone Pack

"Quickly, get in here!"

Eva yanked her inside the cabin, slamming the door shut behind them. As soon as the latch clicked into place, she began chanting the all-too-familiar spell, her voice weaving a protective veil around them. The magic swirled in the air, thick and tangible, masking her scent—ensuring that no prying noses could track her down.

"It never hurts to be careful," Eva said with an easy smile, though her sharp gaze betrayed her concern.

She turned, scanning the girl in front of her, searching for fresh bruises, open wounds, and any new signs of the violence that haunted her like a specter. "And how are you feeling?"

A noncommittal shrug was her only answer.

Eva’s brows furrowed. "Do you still feel her? Your wolf, I mean? Is she still there?"

The silence stretched. The hesitation was thick, palpable.

"Child, talk to me. What happened?"

Her lips parted, then closed again. She exhaled sharply, frustration flickering across her face.

"I... I don't know," she admitted, forcing the words through the still-unfamiliar mind-link. "One moment, I was drowning in pain, and the next, I was just… in my bed."

Something was wrong. She knew it deep in her bones, in the hollowness inside her. But what, exactly, had gone wrong? That remained a mystery.

She eased herself onto the rocking chair by the window, her gaze distant as Eva silently worked through the puzzle. The rays of light that enter through the ajar window beat against the wooden walls, casting long, restless shadows.

"Your wolf," Eva’s voice cut through the quiet, her urgency returning. "Can you feel her?"

She shook her head. Once, twice. Then she stopped, her blank stare locking onto Eva’s insistent gaze. The weight of expectation, of unspoken fears, pressed on her chest.

"No. She isn’t responding." Her voice trembled even through the mind-link. "It’s like… she’s there, but she isn’t."

She swallowed hard, trying to keep the panic at bay, but it swelled inside her like a tide, choking her. The emptiness clawed at her, dark and relentless. It was as if the shadows she had spent years fighting had finally crept into her soul, wrapping their cold fingers around her heart. She gasped for air, but it felt like she was drowning.

"I... I know she’s still there. I can’t feel her now, but I felt her. Like she… she—"

A gentle touch on her shoulders made her flinch. She looked up, and there was Eva, crouched before her. The sight sent a ripple of warmth through her.

It wasn’t the gesture itself but the look in Eva’s eyes—tender, protective, unwavering. It was a kindness she had long learned not to expect. Yet, at this moment, when she needed it most, it was there.

"Calm down, sweetie. Deep breaths."

Eva guided her with soft words, waiting until the tension eased from her trembling body.

"There’s something else," she murmured, her thoughts forming through the mind-link once more.

Eva nodded. "I know. Now, slowly—tell me everything."

She took a steadying breath. "Earlier this evening, she was restless. My wolf. Like she was trying to reach me. I tried reaching back, but the barrier was still there. After a while, I let it be… but then, an hour later, something changed."

She hesitated, pressing a hand to her chest as if to anchor herself.

"I started shivering. But I wasn’t cold. There was this heat, this fire, burning inside me. Then came the pain—splitting pain in my head, and this loud, unbearable ringing. And just like that, it was gone. Everything was gone.

She exhaled sharply, gripping the fabric of her sweater as if to ground herself.

"I felt… nothing. No pain. No ache. Just… numbness. And it was relieving, in a way. But there was this heaviness in my chest, pressing down on me. Apart from that, I was fine and I went to bed."

She bit her lip, her hands curling into fists as the next words slipped out.

"Then I woke up to fire."

Eva stilled.

"It felt like something hot—scorching, burning—was coursing through me. My veins. My bones. And my head… the pain was back, but it wasn’t the same. It was different. More… raw. But the weight on my chest, it—it lifted. And then—I felt her."

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She let it.

"I felt my wolf. She was out. I know it, Eva. I know she was out."

Her voice faltered, cracked.

"But then—"

A shudder ran through her. "It was like something was crushing my throat. A weight. Like someone had their hands around my neck, choking me. But there was no one there, no one... Just me."

She gasped, as if reliving it, as if the phantom grip still lingered on her windpipe. Tears spilled freely now, hot and unchecked. And Eva… Eva felt it all.

That was the cruel reality of mind-linking—there was no hiding. No shielding. Every emotion bled through, raw and unfiltered.

And Eva’s heart ached with it.

"Then, suddenly, all the pain I should have felt earlier—the bruises, the cuts, the agony—it came crashing down at once. And eh… I guess I blacked out. And I woke up feeling nothing, just like that."

A heavy silence settled between them. The words had left her, but the pain remained, clinging to her like a second skin.

Eva pulled her into an embrace, holding her as the sobs wracked her small, battered frame. And for the first time, she wished there was something more she could do. Something beyond empty reassurances.

She wiped away a stray tear from her own cheek, staring at her wet fingers as if they belonged to someone else. She was never one to cry, but neither was the broken girl in her arms.

"Come on," Eva whispered at last, pulling away. "We have work to do."

She helped her up, leading her into the adjoining bathroom. The tub was already filled, the surface of the liquid gleaming under the sun's rays.

It was supposed to be blue, but tonight it shimmered a see-through violet.

The girl cast Eva a questioning glance, but Eva only shrugged.

"Trust me—you don’t want to know."

Without hesitation, the young wolf stepped in, letting the warm liquid swallow her whole. She didn’t care what came next.

She only knew one thing.

She trusted the witch with her life.