My tower had no doors or stairs, only a single large window. It was meant to shield me from the world, to keep me safe and untouchable. That's what I believed until a strange man began climbing it.

He had been watching me all morning. From the edge of the trees, he stood perfectly still, shadows clinging to his form. Even from that distance, I felt the weight of his gaze, sharp and deliberate, pressing against me like a warning I shouldn't ignore. Every instinct urged me to step away, to wait until he was gone. But curiosity is a quiet, treacherous thing. It pulls and convinces you that one more look won't hurt. I leaned closer and was seen.

Now twilight had begun to settle, burnt orange light slanting through the trees below. A hollow chill curled up my spine, my shoulders drawing inward as my arms wrapped around myself. My breath came fast and shallow, my heart pounding violently as realization set in.

He was climbing higher. Straight toward my window.

Nothing had ever breached these walls. I had lived in isolation, watching the world from a distance. But with each deliberate movement of his ascent, that fragile certainty was cracking.

A scraping sound jolted me from thought. The brutal scrape of boots against stone. Terror snatched the breath from my lungs, my chest locking tight. I flattened myself harder against the wall, my palms slick with sweat, listening as each movement crept nearer, heavier, grinding against the stone like nails on glass. A hand appeared first, his fingers clawing over the ledge, knuckles bone-white with strain.

My muscles seized. Then, his face surfaced from the shadow. Dark hair matted to a sweat-slick forehead, lips curled in a slow, sinister smile. His dark eyes gleamed with malice. His boots thudded onto the stone floor, the sound muffled but unbearably loud in the silence of my small world. Every movement was slow, controlled, and predatory. The smell hit me next: acrid smoke, unwashed sweat, and something bitter and metallic that made bile crawl up the back of my throat. I swallowed hard, but the taste lingered.

He loomed there, broad-shouldered and imposing, his shadow stretching across the floor and swallowing the small room whole. I took a step back. The walls pressed closer on every side, trapping me.

"I knew I saw something," he said, his voice low, almost pleased, like he'd found a prize he'd been hunting. His eyes raked over me, slow and deliberate, like fingers dragging across skin. "A beauty trapped in a tower. How... quaint."

My stomach twisted. I flinched as he stepped closer, his presence wrapping around me like a thick and suffocating smoke.

"Don't be afraid," he murmured, a cruel twist of humor threading through his voice. His lips twitched into something that might have been a smile. "I only want to touch you."

He lunged. His hand clamped around my arm, the grip rough and invasive, his fingers biting into my flesh hard enough to make my breath snap short. I recoiled instinctively, stumbling back a half step, my free hand flying up to shove against his chest.

“No,” I said, the word breaking from me sharp and breathless. My head shook even as I tried to wrench my arm free. “Stop.”

But he only laughed. The sound scraped along my nerves, ugly and cruel, like thorns dragged over raw skin. His grip tightened, my pulse pounding beneath his fingers.

“You like this, don’t you?”

“No!”

My vision wavered as moisture gathered at the corners of my eyes, my lashes fluttering in a futile attempt to hold it back. My breath came in short, uneven pulls, my chest jerking as each inhale snagged painfully in my throat. I twisted against him, shifting my weight back in a desperate attempt to pull away.

His hand moved lower, drawing me in. My shoulders hunched instinctively, my spine curving inward. My fingers clenched in his sleeve, nails biting into the fabric as I shoved weakly, my arms trembling with the effort. My head turned away, chin tucking down as his breath brushed my cheek, warm and invasive. His body pressed closer, crowding my space, until everything narrowed to the tightness of my grip, the strain in my arms, and the shallow rise and fall of my breath.

The wrongness of it screamed through me. I shook my head again, harder this time, a silent plea carved into the motion as my fingers trembled in his grasp, my whole body recoiling even as he dragged me closer. And then something inside me broke. A violent surge tore through my chest, raw and wild and unstoppable, erupting from somewhere deep I didn't know existed.

The man was hurled backward, his body slamming against the far wall with a sickening crack before crumpling toward the window. His scream fractured the air, high and ragged. For one horrifying second, he hung there, arms flailing uselessly, grasping at nothing. Then he plunged.

I stumbled to the window, my legs barely holding me, gripping the stone sill with trembling hands. My fingers scraped against the rough surface as I leaned out, just in time to see him fall. But he never hit the ground. Something invisible caught him midair, cradling him like unseen arms, slowing his descent. Below, Aunt Josefina stood in the clearing, cream-colored robes billowing around her, hands raised and trembling as ancient words poured from her lips. My heart barely had time to stutter before the man staggered to his feet, his face contorted in rage and terror, eyes wild.

He turned and fled, stumbling, shouting into the trees. "A witch! A witch in the tower!"

The words slashed through me like glass. Ice flooded my veins, cold and paralyzing. Josefina's eyes snapped up to meet mine, sharp and urgent. "Meira! You must go!" She floated upward, her body rising through the air with impossible grace, urgency burning in her every movement. In the next breath, she was at my side, thrusting a small octagon bronze plaque into my hands. The charm was warm against my palms, humming with strange energy, and etched with symbols I'd never learned to read.

"Take this," she hissed, her voice low and fierce. "And take the broom." The broom hovered beside her, bobbing impatiently in the air like a restless animal. Ready.

"But..." My voice cracked, splintering into fragments.

"No time!" Josefina barked. She whispered a sharp command, and the broom nosed against my leg, urgent, insistent. Her hands clamped onto my shoulders, fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise. Her dark eyes, the ones that had once lulled me to sleep with lullabies, were now blazing with a desperation that terrified me more than the mob gathering below.

"It's time for you to go beyond the trees," she said fiercely, her breath catching, her chest heaving. "The broom knows where to take you."

I stared at her, stunned. My mind struggled to catch up, to make sense of the words. Beyond the trees?

"No..." The word tore itself from my lips, ragged and broken, barely more than a sob. "I can't. I can't leave you."

Tears stung my eyes, blurring her face into a smudged outline. She pressed her forehead to mine for one trembling second, her breath warm and hurried against my skin, her hands cradling my face. "You must," she whispered, her voice cracking like glass under pressure. "They'll destroy everything. You must live, Meira."

The broom nudged urgently at my leg, vibrating with impatient magic, thrumming against my skin. Time was slipping away like water through my fingers, and I could feel it leaving, feel the seconds vanishing. Panic clawed at my chest, hot and feral, tearing at my insides. I hesitated, my body frozen between fear and longing. I had wanted to go outside the tower so many times, dreamed of it endlessly. But without Josefina... how could I make it? How could I survive alone?

Her fingers brushed my cheeks, wiping at my tears with gentle, trembling strokes. "You are stronger than you know," she whispered, her eyes glistening. "Stronger than I ever dared to be."

The mob's furious roar echoed up the stone walls, a sound like thunder rolling closer, shaking the very foundation beneath my feet. The tower trembled. The broom bucked harder now, insistent, pulling at my clothes.

"Take care of yourself, little one," Josefina breathed, "Now go."

My heart shattered.

I clutched the plaque tight against my chest, the metal warm and pulsing against my skin. I swung a leg over the broom, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped it. Without another second of hesitation, I let it carry me into the sky.

The ground dropped away beneath me in a dizzying lurch, my stomach flipping violently. The wind howled past, tearing at my hair, my clothes, ripping strands loose and whipping them across my face.

My stomach twisted with a sudden, sickening lightness. The broom carried me higher, faster, cutting through the air like an arrow. Below, the villagers poured into the forest like a swarm of insects, torches blazing orange against the darkening trees, swords gleaming in the dying twilight.

"There she is!" someone shouted, their voice cracking with rage, raw and ugly. Arrows whistled upward from the mob, slicing through the wind like angry wasps, their tips glinting.

No, no, no.

Panic exploded through me, white-hot and blinding. I flattened myself against the broomstick instinctively, my pulse pounding in my ears like war drums. This can't be happening. I can't do this. I don't even know how to fly.

The first arrow sped past my ear, close enough that I felt the wicked kiss of its feathers against my skin, the rush of displaced air. The broom jerked sideways in a sharp, unnatural movement, as if it sensed the danger before I did. A second arrow missed my ankle by inches, spinning away into the darkening sky, disappearing into shadow.

Faster. Faster!

My fingers ached from clenching the broomstick, my knuckles white, tendons straining. Tears streamed down my cheeks, torn away by the fierce rush of air.

Another volley of arrows rose from below, cruel black streaks against the twilight, rising like a flock of death. Before they could reach me, a shimmering force bloomed around the broom, like a bubble of warm, golden light, pulsing and alive. The arrows deflected harmlessly, spinning away into the trees below with soft thunks and clatters.

A sob tore free from my chest, raw and broken. I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't brave enough. But I had no choice now. The broom climbed higher, weaving through the dying light, carrying me far beyond the reach of the mob's rage, beyond their torches, beyond their hate.

Below, the world blurred into a dark, angry smear. The tower, the village, even Josefina, all swallowed by the vast forest stretching endlessly in every direction. The farther I flew, the heavier my heart became, sinking like a stone in water. I was soaring toward freedom, and yet I felt more lost than I ever had behind stone walls.

The broom trembled beneath me now, its flight growing unstable, weaving erratically through the air like a wounded bird struggling to stay aloft.

No, no, hold it together. I tightened my grip, my knuckles bone-white, trying to steady it, but exhaustion gnawed at my muscles, pulling at me, weighing me down. Fear threaded through every shallow breath, making my chest tight. The cold wind sliced across my face, tearing at my clothes, burning my skin raw. Below, the forest stretched out endlessly, an ocean of black treetops whispering with unseen dangers.

And just like that, the only home I had ever known was gone. The world stretched out before me, vast and unfamiliar, terrifying in its endlessness. The weight of fear, adrenaline, and the sheer unknown pressed down on me like a physical force, crushing my chest. My fingers ached from gripping the broomstick, cramping and burning. My eyelids grew heavy, dragging downward no matter how hard I fought.

And then I slipped.

The weightlessness hit first, a terrifying, stomach-churning sensation of falling, of nothing beneath me but air. My eyes flew open, a scream ripping from my throat as I plummeted toward the earth. The wind howled in my ears, deafening, the trees below rushing closer with sickening speed.

But something unseen caught me midair. An invisible force, warm and humming with strange power, wrapped around me like a net, cradling my body. I hung there for a breathless moment, suspended just above the ground, heart hammering wildly against my ribs, my lungs gasping for air. Then the magic unraveled, setting me down roughly onto hard earth.

I hit the ground hard, scraping skin against rock and dirt. My knees buckled, pain shooting through my legs. I gasped at the sharp, raw sting. Just bruises. No blood. But it still stung like hell.

For a long moment, I stayed there curled in on myself, my body folded tight, shaking violently. I sobbed quietly into the mossy ground, my tears soaking into the earth. The surrounding woods were silent, oppressively so.

I was alone. Slowly, I pushed up onto trembling legs, my muscles protesting with every movement. Where am I? The broom had brought me here. Beyond the trees, just like Josefina said. But why here? What is this place?

A voice cut through the heavy silence, flat and unimpressed. "Oh. Another delinquent. This school just keeps getting worse."

I spun toward the voice, my chest tightening so sharply it was hard to draw a full breath. My hands curling slightly into fists at my sides as I tried to steady myself, my legs trembling beneath me. My hair stuck to my damp cheeks, and I brushed it back with a shaking hand. My heart pounded violently, hammering against my ribs.

I saw him—emerging from the shadows, his arms crossed over his chest. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Unsettlingly handsome in a way that felt dangerous. His skin was porcelain smooth, almost luminous in the fading light, and his hair was dark with a sheen of deep midnight blue, falling messily across his forehead. He wore a high-collared black coat, silver embroidery glinting along the seams like threads of starlight, and beneath it, a crimson shirt that hugged his lean frame.

His gaze held mine, sharp and unreadable. My eyes widened, pupils dilating as my stomach knotted. My shoulders stiffened, and I instinctively took a half-step back. I felt a strange pull, like the air itself had thickened around us, heavy with tension. I swallowed hard, my lips dry and trembling. Every instinct screamed to run, yet my feet refused to move.