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thirteen

“ T his can’t be real,” I muttered, still trying to make sense of it.

I must’ve landed hard when I fell, hard enough to rattle something. There’s no way Zeke actually said that.

“You’re not mortal?” I repeated, the words tasting as absurd as they felt.

Maybe the isolation of rural living had driven him mad.

Zeke tilted his head, steady and unnervingly sure. I studied his face, searching for any trace of delusion, but found nothing.

Oh boy. He’s really lost it.

“ We ,” he said slowly, calm and even, “are not mortal.”

Goosebumps prickled along my arms. I’d said that out loud, hadn’t I?

“Are you insane?!” I shot back, my voice rising. “Do you hear yourself?”

I laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that echoed through the woods, and threw my hands up in exasperation.

Without warning, Zeke blurred out of sight.

One moment he stood a few feet away, the next, he was inches from my face. His gaze locked onto mine—intense, unwavering—then he vanished, back where he’d started. The rush of air from his movement sent my hair flying and stole my breath, all before I had time to blink.

Then, with slow deliberation, he raised his hands toward the sky, as if commanding the heavens.

The clouds thickened, swirling in ominous darkness. The sun disappeared, swallowed by the encroaching gloom. A chill gripped the air. The wind howled through the trees, carrying the sharp scent of rain.

For a moment, everything held its breath. Then thunder cracked through the silence, low and threatening.

And just like that, he lowered his hands.

The wind stilled. The clouds parted. The sun spilled golden light over us like nothing had happened. Zeke stood tall, unaffected .

I stayed frozen, wide-eyed, struggling for words.

Finally, I stammered, “O-okay…so you’re not mortal.”

A silence fell, tense and pulsing.

Maybe I’m the one losing it. How could this be happening? I’ve always been rational. But now, everything was unraveling.

Is this a hallucination? A dream? Did he slip something into my water bottle? No…I felt fine. But what I saw…was it real? Or was I actually going crazy?

Zeke’s voice sliced through my thoughts. “I’ll say it again. We are not mortal. Neither of us. We’re not confined by human fragility. We don’t follow the same rules. We’re not bound by biology—and we’re not destined to die.”

His tone softened, almost reverent. “We are something more. Something that exists beyond the natural order.”

The words sounded absurd.

Had he been watching me, studying me, and still misunderstood so completely?

I was ordinary. Entirely human. Was he mistaking me for someone else?

“Listen,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Whatever that was, whatever magic trick you just pulled, I can’t do that. I’ve never even seen anything like it. Trust me, I’m mortal. Completely.”

He stepped back and interlaced his fingers, calm as ever. “The chains of this world don’t bind me,” he said. “ But you…you’re trapped in this cell. Trapped by the limitations of your own reality.”

His face relaxed, but something deeper flickered in his eyes. “I’ve been searching for you for what feels like an eternity.”

A sudden memory hit me.

His voice—from the dreams. Bryn, where are you?

It slipped away as quickly as it came.

I shook my head. “No,” I said firmly. “You’ve got the wrong person. I’m just human. Nothing more.”

He offered a faint smile, touched with sorrow. “That’s the facade they’ve created for you,” he said quietly. “The life they designed for you. But it’s all a lie. Everything… it’s an illusion.”

I didn’t move. His words echoed through me.

A lie?

An illusion?

What did that even mean? It couldn’t be true. Could it? If I had powers, I’d know. Wouldn’t I?

I had to.

The question hovered between us, heavy and persistent.

But I clung to what I knew, desperate to stay grounded in a world I still understood.

“Okay, if…I’m not mortal,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper, each word wrapped in uncertainty. My gaze dropped to the ground, then lifted back to him, se arching for an answer I wasn’t sure I wanted. “Then what am I?”

Zeke’s expression lit up. He’d been waiting for this.

“We come from a realm of pure magic,” he said, straightening as if the truth itself bolstered him. His hands shifted slightly at his sides, like he could feel the current of it even now. “We’re sacred beings—immortal, with lifespans stretching centuries. We wield strength most mortals can’t begin to imagine.”

He paused, watching me take it in. A glint sparked in his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting. “You, my dear, have extraordinary abilities. You’re not just powerful. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”

The warmth in his face vanished, replaced by something solemn and fierce. “In our kingdom, you rule. You sit on a throne, revered by those who worship you. You protect them, standing between them and the forces that would see our world destroyed.” Reverence laced his tone. “Our realm is one of light, where dark magic is forbidden.”

His jaw clenched, his lips curling with disdain. “Those with impure bloodlines often turn to it. They’re weak, craving the power we wield, but they can’t truly claim it. Make no mistake,” he warned, his voice now low and cold, “it poisons the soul of anyone who uses it.”

I blinked, my mind scrambling to make sense of what he was saying. “So…you’re saying I’m a…witch? A queen witch?” The words were too bizarre to wrap my head around, and I laughed, an awkward, nervous sound.

A wicked smile spread across his face. “Strictly speaking, you’re an immortal sorceress, and the proper form of address is ‘Your Highness,’” he said, executing a low, sweeping bow, one hand outstretched in a grand gesture. “But, in simpler terms, yes.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes as I studied him. My arms crossed lightly over my chest. “Okay—so if I’m a queen…what does that make you? A knight? Some kind of royal guard?”

Zeke’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “Sort of,” he said, his tone delightfully cryptic.

That made sense. If he was some kind of guardian, he probably swore to protect me. To find me.

I frowned, feeling the sharpness of his revelation sink in. Immortal . A sorceress. Queen . So much to absorb. The idea felt overwhelming, and a part of me wondered if I was losing my mind for even entertaining it. How could any of this be real?

“So…” I hesitated, still trying to piece it all together. “If I’m immortal…how old am I?”

Zeke tilted his head, thoughtful. “We stop aging when our magic fully manifests, usually around twenty-five or thirty. After that, time doesn’t really matter. You’re probably…about two thousand years old.”

I stared at him, my jaw slack, completely dumbfounded. “Two thousand years old?!” The words stumbled out, as if they had no place in the same sentence, let alone my reality.

He shrugged. “Give or take a few centuries.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh. “So…I’m basically ancient? And here I was thinking twenty-nine was old.”

He grinned. “I’d say you’re more like a fine wine, only getting better with age.” His hand rose to gently pluck a single leaf from my hair, his fingers brushing my skin as he did so.

I shook out my tangled locks, sending loose leaves and bits of debris tumbling to the ground. “I probably look like a hot mess after that fall,”I said, my voice betraying the self-consciousness I felt about my disheveled appearance.

Zeke’s eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch, as if I were the most captivating thing in the world. “You look beautiful.”

Flustered, I cleared my throat and quickly changed the subject. “So…does this mean I can’t die?”

He exhaled slowly, his features growing serious. “No one is truly immortal, not in the sense of never facing death. But for us, it’s incredibly hard to meet our end. We’re far more resilient than mortals.”

I blinked, my words edged with disbelief. “None of this makes sense! I mean, you’re clearly some god-like being.” I motioned toward him, emphasizing my point with a sharp sweep of my hand. “But me? I’m not even good at being human. How could I be all-powerful? I’m just…me.”

I fell silent, my gaze fixed on the horizon as my thoughts tumbled in a chaotic swirl of confusion. The words circled in my mind, impossible to untangle. I was just an ordinary person, struggling to make my way in the world. The idea that I was somehow extraordinary, that I had powers beyond anything I could imagine, felt almost inconceivable.

Zeke observed me closely, his eyes intent, studying every flicker of emotion that crossed my face. It felt like he was peeling back layers, trying to see through the facade. “What do you remember before working at the diner? What did your life look like before that?”

I hesitated, my mind racing to summon any memories. But to my surprise, I drew a blank. I couldn’t remember a time before working there.

It was like everything began the day Reggie mentioned Sal was hiring for a waitress position. I could still hear his voice, persuading me to take the job. I had no work experience, no high school diploma. Reggie had refused to let me get my GED, calling it an unnecessary waste of funds. But I was desperate to earn my own money, so I took the job without question.

Anything before that was a complete void. No recollection of my childhood, my family, or my past. It was as though my life had only begun then. The realization left me feeling lost, as if I were staring into a vast emptiness. Yet, one thought persisted: Why had I never questioned this before?

“Let me ask you this,” he said carefully, his voice steady, almost cautious, as if testing how much I could take. “Has there ever been a time when you’ve done something…unnatural? Something that didn’t quite make sense?”

A memory flashed, my bedroom lightbulb exploding in a fit of rage. I’d brushed it off as a faulty bulb, but now, with Zeke’s words, I couldn’t ignore the growing realization. Then there was Sal, the lights flickering when my anger flared. With Reggie, the same: flickering lights and the table trembling slightly as I lost control. I hadn’t connected the dots before. Now, it was undeniable.

“Alright, fine,” I said, stepping back a little, my hands fidgeting at my sides as frustration pooled like hot lead behind my ribs. My brow furrowed, and I folded my arms tightly, trying to hold myself together. “If I'm meant to have unimaginable power and sit on a throne, why am I serving coffee and pancakes to mortals? Why am I living like one? What the hell am I doing here?”

Zeke shrugged off his jacket and spread it on the ground before sitting beside it, his posture relaxed but purposeful. “Sit,” he said, patting the fabric.

I hesitated before lowering myself onto it, my eyes never leaving him. His expression had shifted, more guarded now, shoulders taut, like he was measuring the impact of his words. When he finally spoke, his tone carried the weight of a truth he clearly didn’t want to burden me with.

“There’s a guild,” he began, his voice low, each syllable dragged from somewhere painful. “They call themselves the Shadowweavers. A brotherhood of impure-blooded warlocks, corrupted by dark magic. All they desire is power—power over our kingdom, over everything. They’ll do whatever it takes to bend it to their will.” He paused, his eyes distant, the truth almost too much to bear. “And to get that power…they’ve waged war on us. On our people.”

The resonance of what he said settled between us, heavy and unrelenting. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, feeling both the rawness of his confession and the burden it carried.

“They’ve torn apart everything we built. Left nothing but death, destruction…chaos.”

Grief flickered across his face. His jaw clenched. He paused, bracing for what came next. When he looked at me, his gaze was steady, haunted.

“And at the center of it all…pulling the strings, their so-called fearless leader.”

He exhaled, like he’d been holding it in too long.

“Reggie.”

I didn’t know what I’d expected him to say—but it wasn’t that. “Reggie?” I choked, my heart pounding so loudly it nearly drowned out my thoughts. The world seemed to crack apart around me. I couldn’ t breathe, couldn’t think, just sat there, reeling from the explosion of truth.

Zeke nodded, his eyes briefly flashing with rage as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Reginald James. Son of a human mother and a father with weak magic. He’s never known true power, so he resorts to tricks, illusions, and manipulation.”

The world felt like it tilted on its axis. “So…Reggie’s behind all of this?”

Why am I surprised? Reggie has always been behind every problem in my life. It’s like some twisted game I can’t escape. He’s always calling the shots.

He looked down, his lips pressing into a thin line. “He’s the one orchestrating it all, steering the course, dictating every move. He clouded your memories, drained your powers, and made you believe you were nothing more than a mortal.” His mouth twisted in disgust. “And Salvador Blackwood, your boss. He’s been helping him. Sold his soul to the shadows, chasing empty promises of wealth, and became Reggie’s loyal lapdog.”

Everything around me seemed to blur, my mind struggling to catch up. My breath caught, and the rustling of the trees felt distant, like I was hearing it through a fog. “Sal?” I whispered, disbelief flooding over me. “He’s involved too?”

“Yes. He’s been keeping an eye on you. Making sure you don’t stray from Reggie’s plans. ”

I clenched my fists, a surge of fury twisting deep inside me. “So Sal’s job is to keep me in line? To spy on me?” My voice shook with heat, the words sharp and bitter.

He studied me, his gaze narrowing. He hesitated, choosing his words. “In a sense, yes. But it’s worse than that. Reggie and Sal aren’t just dangerous. They’re calculated. Ruthless. I know you’ve seen glimpses of what they can do, but if they ever found out you knew the truth…” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand across his mouth. “You wouldn’t just be at risk. You’d be marked. Reggie isn’t just evil, Bryn. He’s something else entirely. A man who made a deal with the devil—and there’s no going back from that.”

Zeke’s earlier words reverberated in my mind, each one more disturbing than the last: D estruction. Death . I couldn’t escape the vivid images they conjured—the devastation, the violence, the aftermath that followed in their wake.

Had Reggie’s hands been stained with innocent blood? Was I his next target? Could he truly be capable of such brutality, of unleashing havoc upon the world?

The thought sent a wave of revulsion crashing over me, a dark tide rising from the depths of my soul. My stomach clenched, nausea churning as I struggled to fathom the sheer scale of it all. Every part of me screamed in denial, but the truth clawed at me, relentless, impossible to ignore .

Reggie wasn’t just dangerous. He was a monster. A cold, calculating predator in human skin. His cruelty wasn’t a twisted side effect. It was who he was, buried deep inside him, as natural as breathing.

And the only way to stop a monster was to destroy it.