Page 68 of Crown of the Mist

The word settles over me like another blanket - heavy but not suffocating. The mist drifts closer, curling around my fingers where they grip the covers. Its touch feels different now, more deliberate. Like it's trying to tell me something.

"I'm not..." I stop, struggling to find the words. "This isn't normal."

"No," Gray agrees, his voice carrying that quietcertainty that both steadies and terrifies me. "But neither is the way the mist has always followed you. Or those daisies you planted."

I glance toward the window, where the faint glow of the flowers is visible even from here. They pulse softly in the growing dusk, like they're responding to my awareness of them.

"What am I?" The question slips out before I can stop it, small and afraid.

Five sets of eyes meet mine, and something in their combined gaze makes my chest tighten. There's no fear there, no judgment. Just fierce protection and something deeper - something that feels ancient and new all at once.

"You're ours," Rhett says simply, like it's the most obvious truth in the world. "The rest we'll figure out together."

The mist swirls higher, wrapping around all of us like it's sealing a promise I'm not sure I'm ready to make. But as I sit here, surrounded by their steady presence and the quiet magic humming through my veins, I let myself believe - just for a moment - that maybe I don't have to face this alone.

The dream lingers at the edges of my mind, a warning or a memory - I'm not sure which. But something tells me the answers are closer than I think, hidden in the mist that's followed me all my life, waiting to be remembered.

43. Bree

The name echoes in my mind like a half-remembered song.

Thane.

It doesn't belong with my other memories - not the ones I know are real - and yet it feels as vital as breathing. As natural as the mist curling around my fingers.

"Who's Thane?" The question slips out before I can stop it.

The effect is immediate. Five heads snap toward me, their expressions shifting from protective concern to something sharper, more alert. The mist thickens, responding to the sudden tension in the room.

"What did you say?" Gray's voice is carefully neutral, but there's an edge to it I've never heard before.

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to take back the question. "In my dream, there was... a name. Thane." My fingers twist in the soft blanket. "It felt important."

Wes moves toward me, his dark eyes intent. "I've been trying to figure that out myself."

"What do you mean?" Theo asks, his analytical focus shifting to Wes.

"The name," Wes says quietly. "It's been... appearing. In dreams. Like something I should remember but can't quite grasp."

The mist swirls between us, heavier now, almost expectant. I catch movement near the mysterious door - a subtle shift in the shadows that draws my eye. For a moment, I swear I see something green in the crack beneath it, but when I blink, it's gone.

"You're having dreams too?" Jace asks, his usual playful demeanor stripped away. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it didn't make sense," Wes replies, his gaze meeting mine. "Not until now."

Rhett shifts closer to the bed, his presence steady but thrumming with contained energy. "What else was in the dream, Bree?"

I close my eyes, trying to sort through the fragments. "Power. Phil was... taking it. Differentkinds - fire, ice, air, water, shadow. But the mist..." I pause, remembering how it felt. "The mist stayed. Like he couldn't see it. Couldn't touch it."

"Like it was protecting you," Gray says softly. It's not a question.

I open my eyes to find him watching me with an intensity that should be frightening but somehow isn't. "Yes."

The room falls quiet, heavy with unspoken understanding. The mist drifts between us, connecting us in ways I'm only beginning to comprehend. My gaze is drawn again to the door, and this time I'm certain - there's something growing in the crack where it meets the floor. Something small and green and impossibly alive.

"The daisies," I whisper, more to myself than them. "They've always been there too, haven't they? Like the mist."

"They're different now," Theo observes, following my gaze to the window where the planted ones glow softly in the growing dusk. "Since you manifested your power."