Page 17 of Furever Bound
Sera spent the night staring at her laptop screen, watching the engagement numbers on her Grimjaw content climb toward terrifying heights while Elena's clinical revelations about manifestation phenomena echoed in her mind like accusations. Her social media analytics told a story of viral success that should have thrilled her—47,000 views on the latest post, 3,200 shares, comments pouring in from paranormal enthusiasts across the country.
Instead, each notification felt like another nail in the coffin of her carefully planned comeback.
According to Elena's data, her documentation efforts weren't just preserving folklore—they were literally bringing legends to life through some kind of unconscious psychic ability she didn't understand and couldn't control. The electronic interference patterns, the resident nightmares, the temperature fluctuations that made no meteorological sense—all of it apparently stemmed from her presence and her social media amplification of local stories.
She was the catalyst. The security risk. The human weapon who'd accidentally loaded supernatural ammunition and firedit into a community that had been peacefully hiding from the outside world.
Her phone buzzed with another comment notification, and she read it with growing dread:
"Planning to drive up from Richmond this weekend to investigate! This Grimjaw thing sounds incredible. Any recommendations for where to start looking?"
Another person making travel plans. Another outsider coming to investigate manifestations that Elena insisted were becoming genuinely dangerous. Another consequence of her viral content that she'd never intended and didn't know how to stop.
Three sharp knocks on her door interrupted her spiral of guilt and self-recrimination. She opened it to Maddox standing in the hallway with an expression that mixed determination with vulnerability.
"We need to talk," he said without preamble. "Really talk, without Elena manipulating the conversation or Council politics interfering."
"About what?" she asked, though her body was already responding to his presence with the electric awareness. "About how I'm apparently a walking supernatural disaster who's endangering your entire community?"
"About how Elena deliberately revealed information in the most damaging way possible to serve her own agenda," he replied, stepping into her room with careful permission. "And about how none of this changes what's growing between us."
The way he looked at her—like she was precious rather than dangerous, desired rather than feared—made her chest ache with complicated emotions.
She settled into the chair by her window while he remained standing near the door. "I mean, I'm apparently some kindof unconscious psychic weapon whose social media hobby is manifesting monsters. That seems like it should change things."
"It changes the circumstances," he said, moving closer with the controlled intensity that caused her breathing to hitch. "It doesn't change how I feel about you."
"How do you feel about me?" The question escaped before she could stop it, vulnerability bleeding through her defenses.
"Like I've been waiting my entire life for you to walk into it," he said simply, his honesty cutting through her emotional barriers like a blade. "Like everything I thought I understood about solitude and control was just preparation for meeting someone who makes me want to risk everything."
The raw confession made her heart hammer against her ribs, especially when his piercing blue eyes held the kind of intensity that suggested he meant every word.
"Maddox," she began, but he held up a hand to stop her.
"Let me finish," he said, his voice rough with emotion he was finally allowing her to see. "Elena made it sound like academic interest and clinical assessment, but that's not what this is. From the moment you touched my hand on that first day, everything shifted. You shifted something in me that I didn't even know was sleeping."
"The electric shock," she said, remembering the jolt of recognition that had passed between them.
"Connection," he corrected, settling into the chair across from her with careful attention to her personal space. "Recognition. Something my rational mind wanted to dismiss but my instincts knew was important."
"Important how?"
"Important like..." he paused, clearly struggling with how much truth to reveal. "Important like finding the other half of something I didn't realize was incomplete."
The metaphor felt loaded with meaning she couldn't quite grasp, but the emotion behind it was clear enough to make her pulse race with possibility.
"I came here to rebuild my career," she said quietly, studying his face for reactions. "To create content that would prove I was more than just another fallen influencer. I never intended to endanger anyone."
"I know," he said, leaning forward with the kind of focused attention that made her feel like the center of his universe. "Elena's trying to make you feel responsible for forces you didn't understand and couldn't control. But the truth is, your abilities are remarkable. Rare. And in the right circumstances, they could be incredibly valuable rather than dangerous."
"Abilities," she repeated, testing the word. "So you do think I have some kind of psychic powers?"
"I think you have intuitive gifts that respond to supernatural energy in ways most humans can't access," he said carefully. "Gifts that Elena wants to document for organizations that view people like you as either assets or threats."
The clinical language made her shiver with fear, but Maddox's protective intensity suggested he had very different plans for her safety.
"What kind of organizations?" she asked.
