Page 178 of Untamed

Her voice thins to a whisper. “Look.” She lifts her hand, pointing toward a stretch of the vineyard where the vines have managed to thread themselves through the cracked wooden supports, stillblooming in soft bursts of green. “They’re still fighting to live. Even with no one tending to them.

Fuck, her words hit me hard. Like a steel bat straight to the ribs.

Because for a moment, I can’t tell if she’s talking about the vineyard, or aboutme.

So, I look at her, the girl who’s burned her way through every locked door I’ve built around my past, standing barefoot in a field of ghosts, and telling me it’s not too late to bring something back to life.

“Ares, if you want to keep your mum’s memory alive, this right here is the place to do it.”

And for the first time, I think maybe… she might be right.

The house is barely holding itself together, vines crawling through cracked windows, floorboards sagging beneath years of dust and silence. Still, Jordyn walks through it like she’s stepping through history, brushing her fingers along the stone walls like they might speak to her.

I follow a few paces behind, watching her take it all in.

There’s something surreal about seeing her here, her softness inside a space that’s been nothing but ruin since the day they buried my mother. She doesn’t belong in places like this, but fuck if she doesn’t light them up anyway.

She turns a corner into what used to be the kitchen, her footsteps soft.

Then she pauses. Her hand lifts to the edge of the table, gripping it.

“Jordyn?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Her shoulders sway, slightly, but wrong.

I move fast.

She staggers once, and I catch her before she hits the ground. Her skin is clammy, her breath shallow. Panic kicks up in my chest.

“Hey, hey,look at me,” I murmur, steadying her against me. “What’s wrong?”

“I, I don’t know,” she breathes, wincing. “Just… got really dizzy. And nauseous.”

Shit. I guide her down slowly until she’s seated on a low step near the hearth, crouching in front of her with both hands braced around her waist.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I ask, quieter now. Not angry, just worried.

“I didn’t feel it until a few minutes ago. It came on fast.” I watch her carefully. Her eyes are clearer now, but her face is still pale.

“I’m okay,” she says quickly, trying to wave it off.

“The hell you are.”

I pull off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders, ignoring her protest.

She leans into me anyway. My hand strokes down her back, slow, grounding. “It’s probably side effects of the pill. Could be your body adjusting, or dehydration.”

She nods faintly.

I reach into my pocket, grab the bottle of water I always carry on the bike, and unscrew the cap.

“Here,” I say, holding it to her lips.

She drinks, slow and steady, eyes never leaving mine.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I mutter.

“Sorry,” she whispers and offers me a faint smile.

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