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“So I’m part plant now? Because that’s definitely not in my job description. Are we talking temporary magical makeover or permanent career change?”

The warrior steps close, ignoring personal space entirely. Without hesitation, her ancient fingers press against the brightest thorn patterns on my forearm.

Contact detonates through my system like a bomb.

Every cell in my body screamswelcome homeafter lifelong exile.

Power flows between us, wild and untamed. Earth recognizing its own blood. My nervous system lights up like a live wire, connections forming that bypass conscious thought.

“Your heritage breaks through human suppression,” she states matter-of-factly. “This wasn’t merely defense against hunters. The earth claims what belongs to it.”

“My heritage involves government cheese and foster care. Unless you’re suggesting my paperwork’s been significantly understating the family tree.”

She studies my dirt-streaked face as the ground beneath my feet shifts and settles. “Can’t you feel it? The tendrils reaching for you?”

And I can.

Something ancient reaching through soil, recognizing what flows in my veins. My awareness expands exponentially, suddenly connected to root systems stretching for miles beneath our feet.

Her eyes narrow. “Fae nature shatters mortal conditioning like spring destroys winter stone. The land remembers its royalty, even when royalty forgets itself.”

I stare at earth that’s bonded with my skin. When I scrub my arms, the soil moves but won’t fall away—not covering me but integrated into my flesh.

“Should probably be horrified by the whole ‘becoming one with nature’ thing. Instead, it feels like putting on clothes that actually fit for the first time in my life. Which is either beautiful or deeply disturbing.”

“Right,” she finishes. “Like coming home after exile.”

Wait. Did she just call me Fae? That’s impossible. I’m human.

Are you?Logic whispers back, and now my own nervous system agrees with uncomfortable persistence.

“The earth...” Words fail me completely as awareness floods through every pore.

“Earth knows its own,” she confirms. Her fingers trace patterns on her own forearm that mirror the thorns beneath my skin. “Watch.”

The ground around her feet responds. Moss blooms green where she stands. Roots reach toward her boots.

“You carry soil in your veins now,” she continues. “Water in your breath, fire in your thorns, air in your quickening pulse. The four elements recognize their heir.”

“Their heir? Sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong girl. I’m more ‘grunt with abandonment issues’ than ‘chosen one with destiny.’“

She doesn’t elaborate. Merely opens her palm to reveal my silver pendant.

The suppressor.

The cage I never knew I wore.

“You dropped this during the awakening,” she says, offering the chain.

Memory crashes back—Graves pressing it into my hand the night before deployment. “Never remove this, Ash.” His eyes had been colder than winter steel. “It’s for your protection.”

“Protection from what I truly am. Clever. Keep the weapon from knowing it’s a weapon until you’re ready to pull the trigger. Someone’s been playing chess while I was playing checkers.”

I stare at the silver chain in my palm. “How many times did you choke me when I got too close to the truth? How many instincts did you bury?” The metal burns cold against my skin in response. “Fucking figured.”

I stare at the innocuous silver chain while options ricochet through my skull. Part of me wants to hurl it into the forest, reject the limitation it represents. But long-ingrained survival instincts scream caution—the pendant means control, camouflage when needed.

Right now, walking into the Academy looking like I’ve molded with the earth itself, I need every advantage I can get.