I called out her name, panic tightening in my chest. “Harper!”

“Shit” I cursed under my breath.

Why had I been so careless? How had I let her ride without making sure she knew what she was doing? She was so eager to prove herself, but she had no idea what she was getting into. What if something happened? What if she... No. I couldn’t let myself think that way. I had to find her. Now.

I scanned the trees, frustration like a knot in my gut. The shadows seemed to mock me, bending and twisting into shapes that didn’t make sense. I had to focus. Harper’s horse had to have slowed down. It wasn’t that far ahead of me. I was sure of it.

A snap of a branch. A familiar sound. I turned sharply, a breath of relief escaping me as I spotted the creature just a few paces away, its mane tangled with sticks and leaves. Harper’s close. That much I was sure of. The animal’s eyes were wide, but I was able to calm and secure it.

“Harper!” I called out, but only got back silence. She’s stubborn, but I know she wouldn’t refuse to answer and want to be lost in these woods. Her actions so far have shown she’ll do what she needs to survive.

I inhaled deeply, clearing my mind. The ground hummed beneath me, as it always did when I needed it. I crouched, palm pressed to the damp forest floor, feeling the steady rhythm of life underneath. The connection buzzed at my fingertips, alive and waiting. I let the energy seep into me, the ancient power awakening, urging me forward.

“Lumen Vestis.”

The words slid from my mouth, old and familiar, an incantation passed down through centuries. The magic reached out, tendrils of energy seeping into the soil, threading through roots. I felt the forest pulse, its heartbeat syncing with mine. The power, raw and untamed, surged through me, guiding my senses. I could feel Harper now, her presence was faint, but there.

Her ridiculous joke about a Sea-witch flickered in my mind, but I shut it out, focusing on the task at hand. This wasn’t about distractions. This was about finding her.

I focused harder, the magic surging in response, weaving itself tighter around my call. The ground hummed louder, its pulse syncing with my own, until a glow flickered in the distance. That was it. That’s where she was.

I sprang to my feet, adrenaline surging through me as I pushed myself into a sprint, each step fueled by the need to get to her. I had to make sure she was okay.

When I finally found her, lying in the forest like a broken doll, my heart skipped a beat. Her face was pale, her eyes closed, and I could already see the bruises forming on her skin. The sight made my stomach turn. I knelt beside her, my hands shaking as I gently lifted her head and cradled it in my lap. The weight of her injuries, the uncertainty of it all, it made my chest tighten. This was my fault.

I closed my eyes, forcing my breathing to steady as I centered myself. “Harper,” I whispered, voice low and filled with quiet urgency. Her pulse fluttered weakly against my fingers, but she didn’t stir. Her head... she’d hit her head badly. The kind of injury that could be worse than it looked. I didn’t know what bones she might have broken. I didn’t know what kind of damage had been done, but I had to fix it.

I placed my hands gently on her, the familiar hum of magic calling to me.

“Vitalis Sanora.”

The words felt heavy on my tongue, an ancient comfort I had come to rely on in moments like these. The magic flowed from me, warm and steady, lacing through the air like a familiar song.

I could feel her injuries, the way the fractures in her body throbbed and pulsed with pain, and I did everything I could to calm them. The warmth in my palms spread, a soft, golden light that wound around us both like a protective cocoon. I could feel her body mending, the invisible threads of magic stitching together the torn edges of her wounds. Her breathing, which had been shallow and erratic, deepened. Her color slowly returned. I let the magic do its work, willing the light to heal, to mend, to make her whole again.

And then, as the light faded, she was still. Whole. Healed.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, cradling her head gently, a wave of relief washing over me. She was going to be okay. I had fixed her. But I couldn’t ignore the tension that settled in my chest. Thorin was going to give me hell for this. He always did when I used my magic in the open. There were too many eyes out here. Those who would want to exploit it.

But I didn’t have a choice. Harper needed me. And I couldn’t stand by.

I lifted her into my arms, surprised at how light she felt. The forest was still, too still. I felt like I was already being watched. The trees loomed over me, their silent gaze heavy as I walked, trying to push the unease out of my mind.

Finally, I saw the flickering light of our campfire in the distance. Thorin and Maisie looked up in shock as they saw me approaching, carrying an unconscious Harper in my arms. Thorin’s eyebrows shot up. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice low and wary.

I smirked despite the gravity of the situation, a hint of sarcasm slipping through my words. “Riding lessons,” I replied dryly.

Maisie rushed over, her face pale with concern. “Is she okay?” Her voice wavered, but I could see the worry in her eyes.

“She’s fine,” I said, trying to reassure them both, though my voice was rough with the effort. “She needed a little... healing, but she’ll be fine.”

I could feel their eyes on me as I spoke, the weight of unasked questions hanging in the air. Maisie’s gaze flickered to mine, surprise flashing across her features. “You used your magic?” she asked, her voice hushed. “Aren’t you worried?”

I grimaced, the familiar weight of my decision pressing on me. “We haven’t seen him in years,” I said quietly, my eyes darkening as I thought of the shadows that hunted me. “I know it could bring him out. But she needed help and I… couldn’t let her suffer.”

Maisie placed a comforting hand on my arm, her warmth a steady reminder that she understood. She knew the price I paid for using magic. She knew the curse that lingered in the shadows of my past.

“Thorin,” she said, turning to him, “go get the horses. I’ll take care of Harper.”

Thorin scoffed, crossing his arms. “The horses?”

Maisie’s tone didn’t falter. “Yes, the horses. Go.”

She turned back to me then, her eyes soft but firm. “She’ll be alright. We’ll keep watch tonight. No one’s getting past us.”

I nodded, grateful for her strength. With Harper resting peacefully in the bedroll Maisie had quickly prepared, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was out there, something was watching me.