Page 40 of Veiled By Smoke (The Nature Hunters Academy #5)

“Well, it’s official. I am a superhero. I always knew one day I’d do something great with my life.

I mean, I survived high school mean girls.

That means I’m resilient and have some serious perseverance.

What I didn’t know was that I’d have incredible powers that would allow me to literally heal the world.

Okay, not the whole world. But, like pieces of the world.

That’s still pretty freaking cool. I can’t lie, though.

I’m a sad superhero. Not because I’m not awesome.

I’m literally sad. Ra should be here with me.

He should be learning and experiencing this with me.

Instead, he’s trying to figure out a way to not break his promise with Viscious and still save Aurora.

He thinks I’m clueless, but I know my man. He’s good down to his soul.” ~ Shelly

T he morning after Ra’s visit dawned gray and restless.

Shelly woke alone, tangled in sheets that still held a faint trace of his warmth and the scent of smoke and spice that clung to his skin.

The ache in her chest was both sharper and softer than before, a wound made fresh by his absence, but eased by the memory of his arms around her.

She pressed her palm flat to the mattress where he must have laid down beside her, eyes closed, letting herself feel the echo of his presence for just a moment longer.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, drifting in that half-space between sleep and waking, where the world felt muffled and distant. The cave was quiet, the soul bonded scattered through its halls, everyone moving slowly, no doubt worn out by the work they’d begun the day before.

When she finally pulled herself out of bed, her body ached in ways she didn’t think it should have because she had magic in her.

What’s the point of magic if I’m still going to hurt?

she asked herself. She went through the motions of morning: washing her face—water courtesy of Kimba—braiding her hair, and pulling on her boots, each step grounding her in a reality that was anything but ordinary.

There was a heaviness in the air, a waiting, as if the earth itself anticipated what was to come.

By the time Shelly made her way to the main gathering area, the others were already there.

Kimba stood at the front, Osiris beside her.

She could practically feel their soul bond as if it was a living thing.

She had no idea what made her recognize it.

Maybe because they were the royals of the fifth element?

Shelly felt the strength of it thrum along her own thread.

Rory looked as fierce as ever, arms folded, jaw set.

Aston hovered behind her, his chest pressed to her back, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Gabby and Liam, always a tangle of limbs and energy, leaned against each other, while Tara and Elias stood quiet and steady, ready to anchor whatever storm might come.

Kimba’s gaze swept the group, her eyes settling on Shelly with a flicker of understanding—she knew, of course, what it was to ache for a mate, to carry the weight of love and loss and hope all at once.

“Alright, everyone,” Kimba began, her voice strong but gentle, “before we head back to the Devil’s Heart, I want to remind you what we did yesterday.

We’ve slept since then, and we were worn out when we got back.

I’m also going to remind you of why it matters.

I can see how exhausted you still are. I know it’s hard.

I need you to dig deep. But the gate is still damaged, and the darkness seeping through isn’t just staying put—it’s spreading.

If we don’t contain it, it won’t stop with the Devil’s Heart.

It’ll reach the dragon realm, and then .

. .” She let the words hang, the threat unspoken but understood.

Who knows how that darkness will affect the dragons?

If it corrupted Osiris and he became as evil as he had, she couldn’t even imagine a dragon with all that darkness in them.

The massive beasts could destroy everything.

Shelly shivered, remembering the taste of that darkness when she’d been in the underworld—the way it clung to her skin, wormed its way behind her ribs, clouded her mind, whispering false promises.

And that had all been done through Osiris.

She didn’t allow herself to look at him as those thoughts filled her mind.

Kimba was giving him a chance and obviously felt like he’d changed.

Shelly had to let that be enough. That didn’t mean she had to forget what had happened. She needed to learn from it.

“Yesterday,” Kimba continued, “we tapped into our power as soul bonded. Not just as couples, but as a whole. Shelly,” she said, looking at her,“even without having Ra, you were able to use the power the soul bond gives you. We connected our bonds, focused our magic, and poured it into the rift. You all did beautifully. We weakened the darkness and slowed its crawl, but it’s not healed. Today, we do it again. Only deeper.”

“Focus on your mate,” Osiris said, his voice low but sure. “But also pay attention to the group. Remember, your power is stronger together. Let the bond guide you. Don’t force it—trust it. The gate responds to intention and unity, not brute strength.”

Kimba stepped back and, with a flick of her wrist, opened a portal in the center of the room.

The air shimmered, folding in on itself until it formed a gateway rimmed with gold with swirling, violet light in the center.

The group gathered closer, and one by one, they stepped through, Shelly in the middle, as if her friends knew she needed their closeness since she didn’t have Ra.

Her heart thundered as the world warped and shifted around her.

On the other side, she found herself standing in a forest clearing in the human realm.

The trees soared above, ancient and gnarled, their trunks thick with moss and secrets.

Sunlight filtered through a thick canopy, but the air here was even colder, heavier, touched by something unnatural.

At the center of the clearing, the ground pulsed faintly with a heartbeat that wasn’t quite natural.

The rift shimmered there—a wound in the world, black and roiling, edged with a sickly red glow.

Shelly took her place beside Ra’s empty spot, the ache of his absence a physical thing.

She drew a shaky breath, letting the memory of his touch steady her.

Rory and Aston stood together, hands grasped tightly.

Gabby and Liam’s fingers twined tight as well, knuckles white.

Tara and Elias stood so close that they were pressed together from shoulder to hip.

They radiated calm that Shelly clung to like a lifeline.

Tara had always been so capable. Shelly had never told her friend, but she’d always admired the way Tara rolled with the punches.

She’d been dealt a crap hand, and even though she’d stumbled along the way, she kept getting up.

When life threw crap at her, she practically dared it to throw more.

Tara thought Shelly was the resilient one in their duo, but, really, it was her.

Kimba raised her hands, palms outward, and the others mirrored her. “Close your eyes,” she said softly. “Find your mate’s thread. Let it hum through you. Then reach out—feel the others. Let your bonds weave together, one by one, until we’re a single web. Don’t rush. Trust the magic.”

Shelly closed her eyes, feeling for Ra’s thread—distant, but unbroken. She felt the flicker of Gabby’s laughter, the steadiness of Tara’s hope. One by one, the others joined, the web forming an intricate tapestry of color and feeling, love and pain, and a stubborn, relentless pursuit of peace.

The clearing filled with light—not blinding, but warm, alive. The rift shivered, darkness coiling and hissing as they pressed their magic against it.

“Now,” Kimba murmured, “focus on the wound. Pour your love into it. Your forgiveness, grace that has not been earned, and mercy that is not deserved. All the light you have. Let it fill every crack, every shadow. This is what it means to heal: giving even when it hurts and being willing to sacrifice for something or someone other than yourself. That is what the soul bond is. Selflessness.”

The darkness fought back, slithering through their thoughts, dredging up old fears.

Shelly’s mind filled with images: the loss of her parents, Ra burning while lost to the fire, herself left behind without him, and a life filled with eternal cold from the loss of his heat.

She almost faltered, almost pulled away.

She didn’t want those thoughts. Shelly didn’t want to entertain those possibilities for a split second.

She hadn’t realized how empty her life had been until she’d found Ra, or he’d found her.

His love was a balm that soothed every wound. She didn’t want a life without him.

But then she felt the bond—his love, his promise, his pain—threading through her, anchoring her. She gritted her teeth, pushed back with everything she had. She wouldn’t let the darkness win. Not today. Not ever.

The light surged, blinding and beautiful. The rift screamed an ugly, twisting sound, and the darkness recoiled, receding, shrinking back into itself.

When it was over, the forest was silent, the air charged with magic and exhaustion. The rift was smaller, less angry, but not yet healed. Shelly wanted to cry. How much more would it take? How much more did they have to give?