Chapter 28 Entwined - Amelia’s POV
In my mind, Skoll and Kaela remained entwined, his massive form curved protectively around hers like a living fortress. It was strange watching them together—these two wolves who existed only as consciousness, one trapped inside me, one tied to Aleksandr. Kaela had never been able to interact with another wolf before, had never experienced the simple comfort of touch, of pack. Now she pressed against Skoll's side, drinking in his warmth, his strength, his ancient wisdom. I felt her emotions as if they were my own—wonder, comfort, and beneath it all, a crushing sadness that made my chest ache.
Kaela bumped her head against Skoll's massive jaw, then curled into a tight ball against him, a low whimper escaping her. The sound vibrated through my consciousness, carrying a longing so intense it brought tears to my eyes.
'I want to run,' she whispered, her mental voice stripped of its usual defiance, laid bare and vulnerable. 'I want to run with Skoll, feel the earth under my paws, the wind in my fur. I'm so tired of being trapped, Amelia. So tired of watching the world through your eyes instead of my own.'
Her pain cut through me like a physical wound. Four years of being called wolfless, worthless, cursed—none of it had hurt as much as Kaela's quiet despair in this moment. At least when she was angry, fighting, cursing our captors, I'd known she was still strong. This defeated whimper was something new, something terrifying.
"We'll work it out," I whispered aloud, barely aware I was speaking. "We'll make a key if we have to, so you can be free."
Beside me on the bench, Aleksandr remained silent, though I felt his attention sharpen at my words. Through our strange mental connection, I felt Skoll's reaction to Kaela's distress—a deep, rumbling concern that seemed to vibrate through the shared space where our consciousnesses met.
'Try, Kaela,' Skoll urged, his mental voice gentle but firm. 'I'm with you.'
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting the sounds of the meditation garden fade away—the trickling water, the rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds settling for the night. Instead, I focused inward, on the warmth of Kaela's presence that had been my constant companion since childhood.
The bench beneath me was cool and solid, anchoring me as I sank deeper into meditation. I felt a slight movement beside me, then the unexpected brush of Aleksandr's fingers against mine. His hand was warm, his skin slightly calloused—a warrior's hand, strong but careful as it wrapped around my smaller one. He squeezed gently, the gesture so unexpectedly tender that my breath caught.
'I'm here too,' the touch seemed to say.
In my mind, Skoll moved to stand beside Kaela, his massive head lowered to bump encouragingly against hers. She rose from her curled position, her heterochromatic eyes—one green, one blue like mine—fixed on his purple gaze. Together, they began to move forward in my consciousness, toward that place where transformation should begin.
I felt the familiar warmth start to build inside me—that heat that had always preceded my failed attempts to shift. It began in my core, spreading outward through my limbs, making my skin tingle with anticipation. Kaela's excitement surged alongside the warmth, a bubble of hope rising in both of us.
'Yes,' she whispered, moving forward with more confidence, Skoll a steady presence beside her. 'Yes, this time. This time it will work.'
The heat intensified, my heart racing as I felt something new—a strange stretching sensation, as if my skin were preparing to reshape itself. My fingers tightened around Aleksandr's, holding on as the world seemed to shift around me.
And then—nothing.
The heat, the stretching, the sense of imminent transformation—all of it stopped as suddenly as if someone had thrown a switch. In my mind, I saw Kaela slam into an invisible barrier, her body bouncing back from the impact. She tried again, throwing herself against the unseen wall with desperate force, a howl of frustration tearing from her throat.
'No!' she cried, the sound echoing through my consciousness. 'No, no, no!'
Again and again she hurled herself forward, each impact sending shockwaves of pain through both of us. I felt Skoll's alarm, his attempt to stop her self-destructive charge, but Kaela was beyond reason—grief and rage driving her to keep fighting against the immovable obstacle.
Something broke inside me then. All the hope that had been building over the past three days, all the careful optimism I'd allowed myself to feel—it crumbled like a sandcastle before a wave. I pulled my hand from Aleksandr's grip, drawing my knees up to my chest, curling in on myself as sobs tore through my body.
"I'm sorry," I gasped between heaving breaths. "I'm so sorry, Kaela. I'm sorry."
I couldn't tell anymore whose pain was whose—my tears or her howls, my shaking body or her trembling form. We were tangled together in our shared failure, in the bitter taste of hope snatched away yet again.
Through the storm of our combined grief, I dimly felt Aleksandr move closer on the bench, felt the hesitant touch of his hand on my back. He didn't speak, didn't offer empty reassurances or platitudes. He simply sat with me, bearing witness to our pain, his presence a silent anchor in the tempest.
In my mind, Skoll had finally managed to stop Kaela's frantic charges. He lay beside her, his massive body curled around her once more, his tongue gently licking the wounds that existed only in her consciousness but felt no less real for that. His low, rumbling growl was neither threatening nor dismissive—it was comfort in its purest form, a sound that said, 'I am here. You are not alone.'
And somehow, through the tears and the heartbreak and the crushing disappointment, that was what finally reached me—reached us. We were not alone. Not anymore.
It wasn't enough. It couldn't erase the failure, couldn't open the locked door that kept Kaela prisoner. But as my sobs gradually quieted and I uncurled enough to meet Aleksandr's concerned gaze, I realized it was something.
Something I'd never had before.