Chapter 5 The Girl Who Heard Them

It began with a whisper that wasn't mine.

I was by myself in the grove that evening, my feet half-buried in dead leaves and my hands clasped around a steaming mug of pine tea that Seraphine had thrust into them before disappearing again into the den. The forest was quiet, save for the distant crackle of a fire and the occasional swish of boughs. I had wandered here to breathe-to think.

And then I heard it.

She doesn't look like a threat.

The voice didn't come from behind me. It didn't pass through the air. It bloomed directly inside my head, calm and smug and unmistakably Thorne.

I spun around, heart hammering. No one was there.

Another thought, sharper this time.

Stop toying with her, Thorne. You're going to scare her off.

Raynor.

I clutched my chest and stared wide-eyed into the trees. "What the hell?"

A glimmer of motion. The leaves parted, and Thorne strode through, his grin wide and unapologetic. "Well, now this is interesting."

Raynor followed him, frowning. "You heard us."

"Heard you? You spoke. Inside my head."

Thorne whistled low. "She's not just marked. She's tuned in."

Raynor's face was more composed, but I detected shock in his pale eyes. "Only the Moonheart can hear us without the bond being fully sealed."

"I don't know what you mean," I said, taking a step back. "I wasn't trying to hear anything. It just. happened."

Raynor looked at Thorne. "How strong was the connection?"

Thorne massaged his head, clearly enjoying the moment. "Strong enough. She received a complete thought. No leakage or blurring."

"Leakage?"

"Sometimes emotions carry over," Raynor explained. "But words? Words are deliberate. You accessed a direct link."

I stared at them, stunned. "So now I can read minds or something?"

"Just ours," Thorne said with a smile. "Don't worry, your friends back home are safe."

I wasn't laughing.

Seraphine appeared beside us without a sound, her violet eyes gleaming with wonder. "The Moonheart awakens faster than we expected."

I threw up my hands. "Would someone please stop saying Moonheart and start explaining what that is?"

Seraphine stepped forward and placed a hand on my forehead. The hum increased, and suddenly I was conscious of her thoughts-not words, not sentences, but feelings as clear and discrete as scent. Warmth. Protection. Pride. Hope.

"You are not becoming us," she whispered. "You are becoming you. The girl who hears. The one the forest chose."

I didn't know what to say.

Marek had materialized behind her. He said nothing, but the sudden flicker of tension in his eyes gave him away. He was cautious, conflicted.

"She can hear us?" he demanded.

"Sometimes," I said. "When the emotions are strong."

Marek's eyes moved to the others. "That's dangerous."

Thorne crossed his arms. "Or it means she can really help us. "

"It means," Raynor stepped between them, "that she needs guidance. And protection. "

"And time," Seraphine added.

The fire in the den crackled behind us. A silence fell over the clearing.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what I was turning into.

But I did know this: I had heard them.

And they had heard me.

---

Later that night, I was alone again-this time in the alcove Seraphine had created for me in the den. The walls of rock shimmered with firefight reflections, and the fur-lined bed was surprisingly comfortable. I stared at the mark on my wrist, glowing softly under the moonbeams filtering through a crack in the rock above.

I recalled Thorne's bantering tone. Raynor's steady calm. Seraphine's empathy. Marek's reticence. Even Lazaro's detached gaze. They were all different, but bound together by something I couldn't understand-a pack, not just by blood, but by shared purpose.

And I had just walked into the middle of it.

You're afraid.

The voice wasn't someone external. It was someone internal.

It's okay to be afraid.

"Raynor?" I whispered.

There was quiet. But I had recognized it was him. Calming, grounding. He had called across the link, not in words, but in presence. And I had heard.

I answered this time in the only way I could. I turned inward, towards that subtle hum that filled my bones, and thought: I don't know what I'm doing.

A long silence. Then:

None of us did. But you are not alone.

And the connection disappeared.

I had tears in my eyes.

Not of grief. But of solace.

---

The next morning, I was sitting by the brook when Seraphine sat beside me, her hair braided with silver beads that chimed when she shifted.

"You heard Raynor last night, didn't you?"

I nodded slowly.

"And you responded."

"I didn't even know I could."

She smiled gently. "Moonheart bonding is not just listening. It's connection. Feeling. Trust."

"What if I don't trust myself yet?"

"Then we teach you."

She placed my hands, palm-down, on a rock at the edge of the water. "This is stone memory. It absorbs. Touch it and listen."

I closed my eyes. There was a second of nothing but cool stone under my skin. Then. warmth. A second. A memory.

Thorne's laughter in the rain.

Raynor alone under a tree in moonlight.

Seraphine singing a lullaby over a bundle of herbs.

Marek's blood-stained hands. His trembling shoulders.

Lazaro's eyes closing in silent prayer.

They weren't thoughts. They were pieces of them.

I withdrew my hands. "Is it always like this?"

"Not always," Seraphine answered. "But when you're receptive, the forest listens. And occasionally, it talks."

I was winded. Changed. As if the air itself had entered me and decided to stay.

When I rose to leave, I lingered. "Will it always be this way? Like I'm being ripped between worlds?"

Seraphine gazed into the water for a very long while. "Only until you recall you are of both."

I heard it again as I moved back toward the den-a gentle thought, not aimed at me but picked up in the open bond.

She's learning faster than any of us expected.

This time I smiled.

Because so was I.

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