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She’s different from the others. Still. Patient. Her gaze pierces straight through me.

“You’ve been touched by an Ancient One,” she says softly, as if remarking on the weather.

A chill runs down my spine. I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “You’re a witch,” I say, not a question.

She nods once. “My name is Isla.”

I study her carefully, recognizing the threads of magic that shimmer faintly around her. “Do you know anything about the old bloodlines?” I ask. “Prophecies?”

Her lips twitch into a small smile. “I know enough to stay away from them.”

I have not given much thought to what that old witch said to me, but seeing Isla now, I can’t help but be reminded of it. “The witch I met gave me a prophecy. Would another witch be able to interpret it?”

Isla hesitates. “It can be attempted, but only an Ancient One of that bloodline has the ability to tell you what it means.”

I recount the prophecy, and she listens intently, her head cocked slightly to the side, weighing every syllable. When I finish, Isla closes her eyes briefly, the morning breeze tugging at her loose hair.

“Meanings hidden beneath meanings,” she finally murmurs.

I frown. “Can you interpret it?”

She hesitates. “I can try. But something that powerful takes time. I’ll need a few days. Maybe more.”

Something cold and sharp slices through my gut, but I nod.

“And I should warn you…” Isla’s gaze sharpens, her voice low and steady. “You should be prepared for the worst.”

My shoulders tense instinctively. “Why?”

“Because,” she says, her voice almost a whisper, “prophecies by the old bloodline do not deliver good news.”

The palace seems to alter around me, the walls pressing closer, the air growing heavier.

“And if I were to tell you who it centers around,” Isla continues, meeting my gaze without flinching, “it would be your fated mate.”

Maya.

Her name sears my mind like a brand. The idea of anything happening to her consumes me with a violence I don’t bother hiding.

Isla must see it, because she softens slightly, her next words almost kind. “There are ways to fight fate,” she says. “But they always come at a price.”

I clench my fists at my sides, the weight of the moment settling hard and brutal in my chest. “I don’t care what it costs,” I say quietly. “I’ll pay.”

Her expression is unreadable for a beat. Then, she nods. “I’ll start working on it,” she promises. “But you should stay close to her. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

I don’t need to be told twice. Even if I didn’t know the prophecy, even if none of this magic or fate or ancient warning existed, I wouldn’t leave her side.

Not now. Not ever.

Without another word, Isla steps away, following the others into the gardens.

I stand there a moment longer, feeling the sun heavy on my back, the weight of unseen storms gathering around me.

Maya.

Everything inside me is being pulled toward her, tethered by something deeper than blood or magic.

If fate thinks it can take her from me, it has no idea who it’s dealing with.