Page 48 of Whisker me Away
Kieran appeared in the nightmare, as he tried to reach her across the devastated town square. But corruption rose between them like a wall, and she watched in horror as it began consuming him too.
"No!" she screamed, reaching for him as his tiger form dissolved into writhing shadows. "Please, not him too!"
"Especially him," the Thornweaver laughed. "The rootless tiger who thought love could overcome ancient evil. Watch him die knowing you weren't worthy of saving anyone."
Freya woke gasping, her nightgown soaked with sweat and her magic crackling wildly around her hands. The bedside lamp flickered and died as her power surged out of control, plunging the room into darkness that felt too much like her nightmare.
"Freya?" Kieran's voice came from the doorway, and she realized her screaming must have woken him from wherever he'd been sleeping. "Are you okay?"
"Don't come in here." Her voice cracked with exhaustion and fear. "My magic's too unstable. I might hurt you."
"Like hell." The bed dipped as he sat beside her, ignoring the way her power made the air shimmer with dangerous energy. "Talk to me. What did you see?"
The nightmare spilled out of her in broken pieces, punctuated by sobs she couldn't control. Kieran listened without judgment, his presence gradually calming her wild magic until the sparks around her hands faded to occasional flickers.
"It felt so real," she whispered against his shoulder. "Watching everyone die because I wasn't strong enough to protect them."
"It wasn't real. It was fear and guilt playing tricks on your mind." His hand stroked her hair with gentle patience. "The Thornweaver feeds on negative emotions. Of course it would try to break you with nightmares."
"What if the nightmares are right, though? What if I really am too weak to be the guardian my family needs?"
"We'll research alternative binding methods, figure out something that doesn't rely solely on your power."
"There isn't time. Seven days, Kieran. In seven days, they'll quarantine Hollow Oak permanently."
"Then we'd better get to work." He pulled back to meet her eyes in the darkness. "Starting with whatever Edgar found about incomplete mate bonds."
Morning brought a careful truce between them. Kieran made breakfast while Freya showered and changed, both of them stepping carefully around the emotional landmines scattered through their conversation. She could feel his concern like a physical presence, but he gave her space to find her footing again.
"Ready?" he asked as she emerged from the bedroom in jeans and a sweater that hid how much weight she'd lost during her three-day unconsciousness.
"No. But let's go anyway."
The walk to the Hollow Mercantile felt like a pilgrimage through a war zone. Half the town's businesses stood empty, their owners evacuated to outlying farms or neighboring communities. Those who remained watched her pass with expressions that ranged from hopeful to fearful, everyone aware that their future depended on her success or failure.
"Ignore them," Kieran murmured, echoing his advice from days ago that felt like years.
"They have a right to stare. Their homes are destroyed because of me."
"Their homes are threatened by an ancient evil that's been planning this for decades. You didn't cause the Thornweaver to exist."
The distinction felt important, though Freya wasn't sure she believed it yet. Responsibility and blame weren't always the same thing, but they felt identical when you were the one carrying both.
Edgar Tansley met them at the mercantile door, his usually cheerful demeanor subdued but determined. Dark circles under his eyes suggested he'd been researching through the night, and the stack of ancient texts on his counter confirmed it.
"Found something," he said without preamble. "About incomplete mate bonds and why they fail under magical pressure."
"How incomplete are we talking?" Freya asked, settling onto the stool Kieran pulled out for her.
"Physically joined but not spiritually claimed." Edgar opened one of the texts to a page covered in archaic symbols. "The bondexists but hasn't reached its full potential. Like trying to channel power through a half-built bridge."
"That matches what we experienced," Kieran said grimly. "Freya's magic had nowhere to anchor when the ritual demanded a complete connection."
"Exactly. And here's the crucial part." Edgar pointed to a passage written in faded ink. "Incomplete bonds don't just fail to provide full power. They actually drain both partners when pushed beyond their limits."
"You mean my failed ritual didn't just overwhelm me. It weakened Kieran too?"
"Probably. Incomplete bonds create magical feedback loops that can damage both partners if stressed too far." Edgar's expression grew grave. "Which means attempting another binding ritual without completing your connection first could kill both of you."
