Page 16 of Whisker me Away
She wiped her face with the back of her hand, not surprised to see red. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're pushing too hard."
"He'll die if I stop." The words came out through gritted teeth as another wave of corruption tried to surge back toward Rufus's heart. "I can feel it trying to reach his vital organs."
"Then let me help."
"You're not a healer."
"No, but I'm strong." Kieran moved behind her, his chest pressed against her back as his hands covered hers. "Use my energy. Take what you need."
The moment their skin touched, Freya felt his power flow into her magic like a river joining a stream. His strength wasn't healing energy, but it was clean and steady and utterly reliable. It gave her the boost she needed to make one final push against the corruption.
The black veins on Rufus's arms faded completely. His breathing deepened, and color began returning to his pale cheeks. The immediate crisis was over, but Freya felt like she'd been hit by a truck.
"Got him," she said, swaying slightly as exhaustion crashed over her.
Kieran's arms tightened around her, holding her steady against his chest. "Easy. You did good."
The praise in his voice, the way his strength supported her when her own failed, made something warm spread throughout her. She let herself lean into him for just a moment, breathing in his scent of pine and warm spice.
"Is he going to be okay?" Edgar asked, hovering anxiously beside his brother.
"He should be," Freya said, forcing herself to sit up straighter and move away from Kieran's comforting presence. "But I want him checked by a proper healer in the morning. And Edgar, don't touch anything else in here until we figure out what's happening."
"I won't." Edgar knelt beside Rufus, relief written across his face. "Thank you. Both of you."
Kieran helped Freya to her feet, his hand warm and steady on her elbow. "We should get you home. You look like you're about to fall over."
"I'm fine," she protested automatically, then immediately proved herself wrong by stumbling slightly.
"Right. That's why you can barely stand." Kieran's tone was dry but not unkind. "Come on, witch. Let's get you some rest."
The walk back through Hollow Oak's empty streets felt surreal after the intensity of the healing session. Street lamps cast pools of golden light across the sidewalks, and their footsteps echoed off the closed storefronts with a rhythm that matched Freya's still-racing heartbeat.
"The corruption is getting stronger," she said, more to fill the silence than because Kieran needed to hear it. "More focused. The way it fought my magic tonight felt almost... personal."
"Because it is personal." Kieran's voice was grimmer than she'd ever heard it. "That thing isn't just randomly corrupting plants anymore. It's specifically targeting practitioners with earth-based magic."
The realization hit Freya and she instantly was mad she didn’t catch that earlier. "The herb garden. The Hendersons' apple orchard. Now Rufus and his moonflowers."
"All earth-magic practitioners," Kieran confirmed. "And you're the strongest one in Hollow Oak."
"I'm its primary target." The words tasted like ash in her mouth. "It's not just connected to me through my family's binding. It's hunting me."
"Which is why you're not doing any more healing sessions without backup," Kieran said firmly. "What happened tonight, the way that corruption fought you and the way it attacked you in the corn maze, that wasn't normal magical resistance. That was something intelligent trying to get into your head."
They'd stopped walking without Freya realizing it, standing under a street lamp halfway between the mercantile and her cottage. Kieran's look was serious as they studied her face, looking for signs of the corruption's influence.
"I can handle myself," she said, but the words came out weak.
"Can you?" Kieran stepped closer, close enough that she could see the gold and green flecks in his eyes. "Because from where I'm standing, you look like someone who's been carrying the weight of the world alone for too long."
"That's what Bloom women do," Freya said, lifting her chin with defiance she didn't feel. "We handle things. We protect people. We don't need rescuing."
"Maybe that's the problem." Kieran's voice was soft, almost gentle. "Maybe your grandmother was wrong to make you think you had to face this alone."
The suggestion that her grandmother might have been wrong about anything felt like heresy, but Freya couldn't deny the appeal of having someone share the impossible burden she carried. Someone who looked at her like she was worth protecting.
