Page 42

**Mina's POV**

I woke with metal taste on my lips and an odd heaviness in my chest—like the world had somehow shifted when I was asleep.

The morning light was gentle, but unrelenting, filtering through the drapes to magnify every sound, every odor.

I had no idea whether it was a response to the upheaval of last night or something more fundamental.

When I gradually sat up, I could feel a forceful, pulsing thrumming within my veins, as if a heartbeat echoed with an increased strength.

I attempted initially to attribute it to nerves.

But in the morning, unobtrusive but unmistakable things became clear.

When I elbowed someone in the hallway, I felt suddenly a stinging pain—almost as if their pain was mine.

I recoiled, cradling my arm, taken aback by the new sensation.

In the bathroom mirror, I examined my skin.

There was a strange warmth coming from a tiny cut on my hand—a tiny wound yesterday that seemed to be healing itself in front of my eyes.

Fear and confusion blended together: had I possessed this ability always, or was it only now waking up along with everything else?

I tried to focus on my morning routine, but every sound—the hum of the faucet, the faraway muffled voices of students—felt amplified, as if the world had gotten louder overnight.

I was hyper-sensitive, to the point of sensitivity, and there was always this subliminal sense of power surging through me that made my heart beat.

I couldn't help but sense that something within me was stirring—a presence that I had kept repressed for so long.

I strode to the breakfast room for some, trying to force a smile over my unease.

Tasha's bright laughter and effortless conversation filled the room, but I knew that even she sensed there was something off. I caught her eyes from the sides of my vision as I passed by, and for a moment, I saw her eyes soften when they met mine, a silent question suspended between us. But before I could read into it any further, I was interrupted by my own whirling thoughts.

In one of the breaks between classes, I was wandering along the campus corridors.

Each step echoed in my ears, each low murmur was filled with secret meaning.

I tried to distract myself by trying to focus on the faces of the students who passed me, but again it happened, a stinging, sudden pang when I unconsciously pushed past someone.

The pain was transient, a flicker nearly, and disappeared.

Confused, I placed my hand upon the spot, feeling nothing unusual on the surface—but deep inside myself, I knew that a curative current was flowing through my frame, soothing the pain as by magic.

My heart pounding.

I had no idea what was going on with me.

Was I changing?

Had the chaotic events of the past weeks stirred something dormant in me?

I remembered the bits of prophecy I'd heard spoken in whispers by the elders, promises of a power to be awakened in those who were touched by destiny. My mind reeled with questions I wasn't ready to provide answers for.

Later, sitting in a library corner, I began to experience another odd sensation—a few fleeting images flashing behind my eyes when closed.

They were too indistinct at first to be deciphered: shapes and colors, whispers of words that I couldn't quite hear. And then, as I focused on them hard enough, an image coalesced.

I saw Tasha—her concerned face caught in the shadowy light—standing in what looked like a blacked-out hallway.

There was a sense of danger in the air, a sense of fear that crept down my spine.

The image was unclear, a semi-forgotten dream, but the fear in Tasha's eyes was real. I could barely make out her voice, a frantic cry that I couldn't quite catch.

My chest tightened with anxiety.

Was she in trouble?

Was something happening to her that I needed to be informed about?

The vision vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving me shocked and gasping for breath. I blinked rapidly, trying to erase the afterimages of the scene, but the memory remained—a warning from a future I wasn't sure I was ready to accept.

I knew then that the transformations were happening too quickly.

Every day, my senses grew sharper, and my body responded to the world around me in ways I could not control.

I was torn between losing myself and feeling the thrill of accessing an inner strength that had been dormant for so long.

The transformation was not only physical; it seemed as if my very soul was being rewritten, one emotion at a time.

I tried to explain these changes using rational thought, but they defied explanation.

I recalled the whispered rumors I had heard in the dorms about some kind of latent power—one which allowed some of us to heal wounds, to assume others' hurts as if they belonged to us. I had initially dismissed it as rumor, but now, as I felt that strange, reassuring warmth from my hand, I could no longer dismiss it.

Cass had been watching me too.

I'd caught him gazing at me with a concerned look and something else—something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

I knew he wanted to tell me, to share his own understanding of these changes, but he always shut up.

He'd say something like, "It's nothing, Mina," or "You're stressed," and then just trail off. I wished he'd continue.

I needed to know.

That evening, when darkness fell across campus, I was alone in the quiet of a study hall.

I rested my forehead on the cold glass of a window, watching the swirling shadows in the darkness outside.

The wind moaned through the trees, carrying the scent of rain and something wild—a prehistoric odor that made my heart racing and my nerves tingling.

I closed my eyes, attempting to focus on the soft, even hum of my inner wolf.

I could feel it bucking, a creature I'd only just begun to realize was there.

"Heal," it whined softly, almost inaudibly, as if it were commanding me to embrace this newfound power.

I felt a heat radiating from inside me, and my skin tingled with an electric sensation, like being kissed by the sun. It was strange yet reassuring—a promise that perhaps I wasn't losing myself, but evolving into someone more resilient.

Entranced by these emotions, I barely sensed the approach of footsteps before a worried, familiar voice broke into the silence. "Mina, are you alright?"

I opened my eyes to see Cass standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but gentle. "You've been off today," he continued. "I—I think something's happening to you."

I lingered, trying to read any judgment in his face, but finding only concern.

"I'm trying to understand this," I admitted. "Each time I touch something—or someone—each time, I feel their pain. And occasionally, the small bruises and cuts on my own body mend almost immediately. It's as if I'm. absorbing the hurt.".

Cass moved a step forward, his gaze soft with concern. "That is a healing ability," he whispered. "Something you were born with. or awakened to."

I frowned. "Hereditary? I didn't know. I mean, I have no idea how this fits in with all of this.".

He looked at me, his gaze fixed on mine as if weighing every sentence. "Mina, these things—they're what you're becoming. The way you heal... it's powerful. But I'm not sure you're ready to accept it."

His words stung more than I had expected. "Ready for what?" I whispered. "I'm scared, Cass. I've had visions—I dreamed about Tasha being threatened last night, but everything was so vague. And these changes... they're happening too fast. I don't know what to do with them.".

Cass landed, placing his strong hand on my shoulder. "You're not alone," he breathed. "I wish I could tell you more, but sometimes the changes have to come to you in their own time. Trust that this is part of your destiny—no matter how much it frightens you."

I nodded slowly, separating between gratitude and rage.

I wanted answers, but the mystery of it all was too much.

As the evening wore on, I retreated to a corner of the library to reflect further.

I scribbled notes in my journal, trying to capture every sensation: the sensation of my skin tingling with a searing power, the flash in my mind of Tasha's frightened face, the soft, insistent voice of my inner wolf urging me to heal and to take this power.

Each sentence that I wrote was one closer to understanding myself, but one further from knowledge. I found myself asking: if I am to be a healer, to mend breaks and absorb hurt, what is left for my own heart? Am I to bear others' sorrows until I am too weak to hold anything any more?

The questions lingered over me, and as I closed my journal, a final picture flashed in my mind—a brief glimpse of Tasha in danger, her eyes open with terror, her body surrounded by wreckage.

The vision was too vague to fully understand, but it left me with a cold knot in my stomach.

I had an impossible feeling of having to do something, to warn her, but the words stuck on my lips.

That night, as the campus grew quiet with an anxious hush, I lay awake in my small dorm room, listening to the distant murmur of faraway voices and the tussle of the wind.

I could still hear my heart pounding, still sense the intense energy running through me.

Every sound, every sensation, seemed to blend into one blaring symphony of life and change.

And in that annihilating moment, I vowed in silence: I would learn to control this healing ability.

I would understand these changes, not only for myself but for all the people I loved.

Cass's words echoed in my mind, a gentle reminder that even though I didn't have all the answers yet, I wasn't necessarily alone. I had him—and maybe, hopefully, I had a part of something bigger, a destiny to be found later on.

As the first light of dawn seeped in through the blinds, I slowly reclined, feeling the coldness of the air on my skin and the solid beat of my transformed heart.

The university outside was waking up, unaware of the secrets that had been planted inside me.

I took one final breath, knowing that although the future was not certain and riddled with issues, I was on the cusp of something incredible.

I shut my eyes for a moment, hearing that gentle, reassuring voice in my head: "Embrace the change, Mina. You are healing, you are growing, and you are becoming more than you ever imagined."

And in that instant, as I was about to confront the day with all its secret promises and impending perils, I knew one thing absolutely: my awakening was only the start.

It would be a lengthy, agonizing process to discover my gift, to discover how to control this new power.

But with each passing second, I could feel the determination rising up in me—a steady, unshakeable determination to make a new world where I might heal not only myself, but the battered planet as well.