CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The cool spring breeze ruffles my hair as Alpha Torin's retreating footsteps crunch against the pebbled bank of the creek. I watch his broad shoulders, wrapped in authority and a leather jacket, disappear between the budding trees of the mountain range. Alone now, with the burble of the stream as my only company, I hug my knees closer to my chest, searching for warmth in the crisp air.
I've always known that being clairvoyant came with uncertainties, unpredictable flashes of the future that strike like lightning—blinding and sudden. But what if I could control it? Harness it? The question circles in my mind like leaves caught in a whirlpool. Could I intentionally have a prophecy, or perhaps even peer into the present somewhere else? My gift has always been a passive
