Chapter 96 A LETTER THROUGH
AMBER’S POV
I am sitting at the small table when it happens, not expecting anything more than another quiet evening, my thoughts already heavy with the usual worries I try not to dwell on too long. The air shifts suddenly, subtle but unmistakable, and before I can even stand, a piece of folded paper appears in front of me as if it has always been there.
My breath catches, my heart pounding so loudly I am sure everyone in the house can hear it. Magic like this should not be possible here, not with the barrier standing strong, and yet it is real, resting right under my trembling fingers.
I know who it is from before I open it, because the bond reacts first, warming my chest, tightening in that familiar way that always leads back to Derek. My hands shake as I unfold the letter, fear and hope crashing together inside me.
His words spill out slowly, explaining everything, how he went to Fauna, how the spell drained her badly, how the only reason it worked was because we are mates. I press the letter to my chest, tears blurring my vision as I read how much he misses me, how the distance has been tearing him apart just as badly as it has me.
I read the words again and again, letting them sink deep, letting myself feel him through them. He writes about the barrier, about the risk, about how dangerous it was to send this, but he says silence would have been worse. My heart aches at that, because I know exactly what he means. Loving him from far away has felt like slowly losing air, like trying to survive while holding my breath.
Then I reach the part that makes my pulse race even faster. He asks to see me tonight, explaining that it is a ceasefire night, that the location is private, familiar to both of us, a place we once stood together before everything became complicated. He admits the risk openly, especially since the meeting point lies close to the spirit pack’s border, but he pleads anyway, not as an Alpha, not as a warrior, but as the man who loves me.
I sit there for a long time after finishing the letter, staring at the paper as if it might disappear the same way it arrived. My mind fills with reasons why this is a bad idea, why I should say no, why I should stay where I am and stay safe. Trent’s voice echoes in my head, telling me I am better off with family, away from danger, away from Derek’s world. But my heart argues back just as strongly, reminding me that distance has already cost us so much, reminding me that love like this does not survive endless waiting.
I fold the letter carefully and tuck it close to me, standing slowly as if sudden movement might break the moment. Fear settles deep in my stomach, heavy and real, because I know how dangerous this could be for him. If anything goes wrong, the blame would sit squarely on my chest. Still, beneath the fear, excitement sparks, bright and undeniable, because the thought of seeing him again feels like breathing after being underwater for too long.
I step outside to clear my head, the cool air doing little to calm the storm inside me. The bond between us hums softly, steady and reassuring, as if Derek is waiting already, as if he knows I am standing on the edge of a choice that will change everything. I pace slowly, replaying his words, the care behind them, the way he never hides the danger from me, never pretends loving him is easy.
When Trent finds me, he knows something is wrong immediately. He looks at my face and frowns, concern written plainly in his eyes.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says.
“Something like that,” I reply, my voice quieter than I expected.
He studies me for a moment. “Is it him?”
I hesitate, then nod. “He sent me a letter.”
Trent stiffens. “Through the barrier.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not possible,” he says sharply.
“It is,” I answered. “And it nearly drained the witch who helped him.”
Trent runs a hand through his hair. “Amber, this is dangerous.”
“I know,” I say honestly. “For him more than anyone.”
He watches me carefully. “What did he ask?”
I take a breath. “To meet him tonight.”
Silence stretches between us, heavy and thick. “You can’t,” Trent finally says. “It’s too risky.”
“I know that too,” I reply. “But I also know what it costs to keep waiting.”
“You’re choosing him over your safety,” he says.
“I’m choosing honesty,” I answer. “I’m choosing not to pretend my heart can handle endless distance.”
Trent sighs deeply, the fight draining from him. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t need you to like it,” I say softly. “I just need you to understand.”
He looks away, jaw tight. “Just come back alive.”
“I will,” I promise, even though fear curls tight around my ribs.
When he leaves, I return to my room and sit on the bed, holding the letter again. I write my response slowly, carefully, telling Derek I am afraid, telling him I know the risk, but agreeing all the same. I tell him the place is still clear in my mind, every detail untouched by time. I tell him I will come, uncertain but eager, because loving him has always been a leap of faith.
As night settles in, I prepare quietly, my movements calm despite the nerves buzzing through me. Each step closer to leaving feels heavier, but also more right. I think about Derek standing on the other side of this choice, waiting despite the danger, willing to cross borders just to see me. That thought alone steadies me.
I step out into the darkness when the time comes, heart racing but determined. The path ahead is risky, uncertain, and filled with danger, but it leads to him, and right now that is enough. Distance has taught me many things, but the most important is this, love like ours does not survive fear alone, it survives action, even when the cost is high.
I move forward, holding onto hope, knowing that whatever happens tonight, I chose to meet him halfway, and that choice belon
gs to me.
NO MORE DISTANCE