The first time I felt the spark, I thought I was losing my mind.
It started in my chest, a faint hum that grew stronger with each passing day. At first, I ignored it, chalking it up to the aftermath of Asher’s rejection, a phantom ache that refused to fade. But this was different. This wasn’t the pain of humiliation or heartbreak. It was something... alive, like a second heartbeat.
That morning, the forest was still, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and pine. I crouched in the clearing I’d claimed as my own, running a hand over the frost-covered grass. My breath clouded in the chill, and my fingers trembled—not from the cold, but from the restless energy surging beneath my skin.
“Come on,” I muttered, glaring at the ground. “Just do something.”
I had been practising for days,
