Page 34 of Broken Forced Mate
The word sits heavy between us. War means casualties, displacement, and the kind of violence that reshapes territories for generations.
“Your brother and the other leaders are preparing for that possibility,” Ash tells me. “But we need to understand what other advantages we might have.”
“Such as?”
“Your enhanced abilities.”
I shake my head. “Like I told Wyn, it was one vision. That doesn’t make me some kind of supernatural weapon.”
Ash reaches across the table and touches my hand. The moment our skin makes contact, images flood my mind—not as overwhelming as the vision with Wyn, but clear enough to make me gasp.
I see Ash as a child, maybe eight years old, sitting in a garden while an older woman teaches her to read tarot cards. The images are fuzzy or distorted. It’s like I’m looking right at her, here, in this moment.
“Visions are just the beginning,” the woman says in my mind. “True sight means understanding the connections between all living things.”
The image fades, leaving me staring at Ash with new understanding. Reading memories, seeing through someone else’s experiences…that’s far beyond simple precognition.
“I can see more than just the future,” I realize aloud.
“The bond with Wyn unlocked something that was already inside you. But it’s not fully activated yet.”
“What do you mean?”
Ash gives me a look that suggests she knows exactly how much I don’t want to hear her answer.
“Bloodline abilities linked to mate bonds require…completion to reach full potential.”
Heat floods my face as I understand her meaning. She’s talking about consummating this already insane marriage. “That’s not happening.”
“I’m not saying it should. I’m saying that’s what the supernatural mechanics require.”
“Then I’ll work with whatever abilities I have now.”
“That’s your choice.”
We spend the next two hours testing the limits of what I can do. Touching objects to read their history, focusing on photographs to sense the emotions of the people in them, trying to project calming energy toward Wyn’s nervous-looking houseplants.
Some attempts work better than others.
The plants seem to respond, and their leaves turn toward me like they’re seeking something I can provide. The photographs reveal layers of emotion I never would have noticed before, like the one of a young Wyn, fishing with his father. I can actually feel the joy and excitement as he reels in the tiniest fish.
“You’re stronger than most newly awakened psychics,” Ash observes. “Even without full bond completion.”
I snort and ask, “Is that supposed to be comforting?”
“It’s useful, if nothing else.”
My phone rings, interrupting our practice session. Sera’s name appears on the screen, and this time, I answer.
“Finally,” she screams into the phone. “I’ve been worried sick. What’s this about you being married?”
“How did you hear about that?”
“Sera,” a familiar voice says in the background, “let me talk to her.”
My heart jumps when I recognize the second speaker. “Is that Matriarch Lydia?”
“Hello, dear,” Lydia Thornwick’s cultured voice comes through the phone. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, but we need to discuss recent developments.”
