Wildborn

Hidden Gifts

Bri found her way back to the East Wing and their apartment with minimal trouble; only one small misstep when she should have gone right instead of left. But a happy accident nonetheless, as it led her to a large dining room where she assumed she'd be having meals with the rest of her peers based on her new schedule. After making a mental note, she turned around and easily navigated to her intended destination.

Once inside her room, the weight of the day settled into her limbs. She looked at her bed with the many shopping bags and got to work organizing. She moved slowly, hanging the new clothes one by one in the walk-in closet. Her Lunebrook uniforms, training fatigues, and street wear each find their place. Several pairs of shoes lined up, including the white sneakers still pristine in their box, sat proudly on the shelf. Bri was saving those for the first day of school.

A second later, Lena’s squeal echoed down the hallway.

“A new hair clip! BRIIII!”

Footsteps thundered toward her room, and then Lena burst inside, arms flailing and eyes shining.

“You got this for me?! It’s so pretty! I love it so much. Look, look!”

She held the silver flower clip against her hair, tilting her head so it caught the light.

“It sparkles! Thank you!”

Bri laughed, warmth spreading through her chest. “You’re welcome, sunshine.”

Lena bounced over to the mirror, carefully clipping it into place, then turning her head back and forth to admire it.

Their mom appeared in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame like she’d just wandered in rather than come looking for them. She gave the room a quick glance, expression distant.

“Why don’t you tell us about school,” Bri prompted.

Lena didn’t need any encouragement.

“Bri! I saw the cafeteria and the playground and the class guinea pig is named Marvin and my teacher, Mrs. Anderson, is so nice and there’s a basketball hoop outside so I can practice and be just like you and—”

“Alright, hurricane Lena,” Bri laughed. “Slow down.”

Lena grinned up at her.

“I’m gonna pick my outfit for my first day of school!” she announced. “Something cool like yours.”

She dashed out of the room before anyone could answer.

Bri watched her go, smiling faintly.

Then she glanced toward her mom.

“When are you going to get the things you need?” Bri asked.

“Tomorrow,” her mom said absently. “I’ll go after breakfast.”

Bri nodded, already organizing the details in her head.

“I’ll ask Sera to arrange an escort for you,” she said. “And I’ll write down the stores we went to today so you know where to go. The electronics place for a phone, the general store for basics.”

Her mom barely looked at Bri, her focus somewhere off in the distance.

“Mm. Okay.”

“Do you want company?” Bri asked.

“No,” her mom said. “I’ll figure it out.”

Then she turned and wandered down the hallway after Lena without another word.

Once the room was quiet again, Bri returned to unpacking. After putting away her toiletries and makeup, she sat down and pulled out her new phone. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she waited for apps to download.

And then, one by one, she deleted her social media accounts.

Photos with Meg. Messages from Alec. Tagged group shots.

She couldn't even bring herself to open or read messages sent from them after her abrupt departure.

Delete today, create new memories another day.

By the time she finished, her chest ached. A life severed, with a new one rising.

She stood and padded slowly into the bathroom.

Turning on the shower, she let the steam fill the room before she finally got undressed and stepped in. The water was warm, the pressure perfect. Facing the wall, the water running down her head, face, and body, she let the weight of the last four days dissolve.

She started with her hair and scrubbed meticulously with the vanilla oat shampoo and conditioner she'd picked out. Next, her body with the matching body soap; hints of vanilla, cinnamon, and oat, like the perfect cookie, warm, a hug in scent. Her muscles loosened. Her mind cleared.

Each sweep of her hands was a quiet ritual: washing away Hollow Pines, sorrow, fear, the expectations of others. Making space for something new.

She turned off the water, stepped out, and wrapped herself in one of the thick towels on the shelf. Glancing in the mirror, she caught sight of herself, cheeks flushed from the heat and her blond hair already trying to spring back into her wild curls but pulled down by the weight of wetness.

Glancing at her phone: 9:00P

Tomorrow was Wednesday.

She had 12 days until term start at Lunebrook.

Twelve days to condition, train, prepare.

After going to her closet and finding one of the comfortable sleep sets she had just purchased, she returned to her bed with nail polish in hand. Bri always painted her nails before big things; games, speeches, interviews. And always black.

Black felt solid.

Unmoving.

With steady hands, she painted each nail, waiting for the polish to dry as the room filled with the scent of acetone and resolve.

No sooner than she finished the second coat, a knock came.

"Come in."

Grandma Riona stepped inside.

"I hoped you’d still be awake. May I? " she gestured to sit on the bed with her.

Bri nodded.

Her grandmother sat across from her.

"Today went well," Riona said softly. Not quite a statement, not quite a question.

"Yea, it did."

"And Lunebrook …"

Not a moment later, her Grandma's mindlink settled into place.

There's much to talk about, and all of it best left unspoken, Riona said as she glanced around. This next week will test you. but not just in the ways they think. In the pack, things are different. You can’t explain away strange things as you could with humankind. Humans want to believe there is nothing more powerful than themselves. Here? Everyone is watching and hoping for amazing manifestations of power.

Bri swallowed. A specific memory flashing through her mind.

I remember, she thought, when I broke my collarbone at ten. Fell off the monkey bars. The nurse took me to the ER before you got there. X-rays showed a clean break. They talked about a brace, six weeks. But by the time we were at the checkout desk…

It had healed, Riona confirmed. And while I was trying to explain it away, you wandered off, that woman you hugged in the waiting room…

She was so sad. She thought she was miscarrying, Bri finished. She ended up having a healthy baby.

And then three more in as many years. That was your first manifestation of shared healing. A gift from the Wildborn lineage. But now, we must guard that gift.

Riona leaned forward.

During your Medicum prep, learn everything you can about herbs, poultices, and the minor healing magics of the Moonbound. But do not use your advanced healing. Not even a little. No shared healing. No accelerated recovery.

Bri nodded slowly.

And during the Gauntlet, Riona continued, you must not let them see how heightened your senses are in your human form. No predicting their moves. No responding before the attack lands. Those are skills that someone who has shifted retains.

But I can hear their thoughts, Bri said. Another unique and rare ability that not even her mother knew about. When Eira is fully with me. I know what they’ll do before they do it.

Then you must learn to mimic a slower mind. Learn to feign studying their moves like everyone else. Hide your instincts.

The silence between them swelled.

You’re not worried about the Concordance Trial?

No, Riona said. You have always had strong moral intuition. You will do fine.

And the Echo Chamber?

They will test you with your memories. Your pain. They will likely see how your magic echoes in suffering. Focus not on the environment. Focus on cloaking your scent. Your aura. You must remember in this environment specifically to suppress who and what you are.

Bri exhaled.

Okay.

Riona stood.

You are good. You are strong. And you are capable. Never forget that.

Bri blinked, then asked aloud, "What does Lunaris Dualborn mean?"

Riona paused in the doorway.

"That," she said gently, "is a story for another day. Soon."

The door shut behind her.

Bri stood slowly. Put away her nail polish, then climbed into bed and turned off the light.

She curled into bed, blankets tucked under her chin, and let her thoughts spiral.

The schedule for the next two weeks. The trials. The wolves she had yet to meet.

And then sleep —

A dream.

A fig tree. A winding river.

A young man seated beneath the tree, skin golden in the light, thick and tightly curled brown hair, deep-set and almond-shaped eyes lit with some secret warmth. His clothes seemed to be from a time centuries ago.

He smiled.

"Brielle," he said.

And when she woke, his voice echoed in her chest.