Elara's POV
"Kieran, wake up!"
I'm screaming his name while my hands glow with desperate green light. The "child" vanished the moment her dark magic knocked Kieran out, leaving us alone in the tunnel with him bleeding from his eyes, nose, and ears.
Victor's magic is poison. I can feel it spreading through Kieran's body like black rot, killing him from the inside.
"No, no, no." My voice breaks. "You don't get to die. You promised to protect me. You can't protect me if you're dead!"
I press my glowing hands to his chest, over his heart, and push. Not with force—with love. With every moment he was there for me as a cat. Every gentle purr. Every time he curled up beside me when I cried.
"You've been my friend for thirteen years," I sob. "You don't get to leave me now. I won't let you."
Green light explodes from my palms, so bright I have to close my eyes. I feel it flowing into him—my power, my life force, my absolute refusal to let him go. The dark magic inside him screams and withers, burned away by pure Garden-Speaker energy.
Heal. Mend. Live.
When the light finally fades, I'm exhausted and shaking. But Kieran's eyes flutter open.
"Elara?" His voice is weak but clear. "What... what did you do?"
"Saved your life, you idiot." I'm crying and laughing at the same time. "Don't ever scare me like that again."
He reaches up and cups my face with a trembling hand. "You just healed dark magic poisoning. That's... that's impossible. Even for Garden-Speakers."
"Well, apparently I'm good at impossible things." I lean into his touch. "Can you walk? We need to move before that thing comes back."
With my help, he gets to his feet. We stumble through the tunnels for what feels like hours, taking random turns, doubling back, doing everything we can to lose any pursuers.
Finally, we find it—a hidden door behind a collapsed wall. Kieran presses his hand to it and protective seals glow to life.
"Safe house number seven," he mumbles. "Last one. If they find this..."
"They won't." I put his arm around my shoulders, taking more of his weight. "Come on. Just a little further."
The door opens into the most beautiful place I've ever seen.
It's an underground greenhouse—but not abandoned like the last one. This one is alive, thriving, filled with plants I've never seen before. Some glow with soft light. Others have flowers that chime like bells. There's even a small tree with silver leaves that hum with power.
"Kieran," I breathe. "What is this place?"
"My garden." He leans heavily against the doorframe. "Been cultivating it for fifty years. Every plant here is supernatural. Rare. Magical in ways humans don't understand." He gives me a weak smile. "I thought you'd like it."
My heart does something complicated in my chest. "You built this for me?"
"I built it hoping you'd see it someday. That I'd get to show you what real magic looks like." He stumbles and I catch him, guiding him to a bench beside a pond filled with lilies that glow like stars.
"Rest," I order. "Let me check your wounds."
"Bossy," he teases, but he's too weak to argue.
I examine him carefully. The dark magic is gone—I can feel that much. But healing takes energy, and he's drained. His skin is too pale, his breathing too shallow.
"You need to feed," I say, remembering something he mentioned during training. "Guardians can absorb energy from supernatural plants, right?"
"Not enough to matter. Not after that much damage." He closes his eyes. "I just need time."
"We don't have time. Midnight is in—" I check the clock on the wall, "—four hours. We need you at full strength."
"Elara, I'll be fine—"
"Take my energy."
His eyes snap open. "What? No. Absolutely not."
"Why not? You said we're bonded. That we share a connection because I freed you." I sit beside him, taking his hand. "So take what you need. I have plenty."
"You don't understand. If I take too much, it could hurt you. Weaken you right when you need your strength most."
"And if you're too weak to fight, we both die anyway." I squeeze his hand. "I trust you, Kieran. I trust you not to take more than I can give."
For a long moment, he just looks at me. Then he sighs, defeated.
"You're going to be the death of me, Garden-Speaker."
"Not today." I smile. "Today I'm going to be the life of you. Now stop arguing and feed."
He pulls me closer, one arm around my waist. His forehead presses against mine and I feel the connection between us open—that bond forged by blood and magic and thirteen years of silent companionship.
Energy flows from me to him. Not stealing—sharing. Like watering a plant or feeding a stray cat. Natural. Right.
When it's done, Kieran's color has returned and I only feel slightly dizzy.
"Better?" I ask.
"Much." But he doesn't let me go. "Thank you. For healing me. For trusting me. For being you."
"Kieran..."
"I need to tell you something." His golden eyes are serious. "About why I really stayed. Why I didn't just watch from a distance like most Guardians would have."
"Okay."
He takes a deep breath. "Three hundred years ago, I had a family. Other Guardians. We protected a community of Garden-Speakers who lived in peace, hidden from those who would exploit them. Then Victor found us. He killed them all—every single Guardian, every Garden-Speaker, everyone I'd ever loved. I survived because I was away on a mission. Came back to find them massacred."
"Oh, Kieran." I reach up and touch his face. "I'm so sorry."
"I spent centuries hunting Victor. Trying to kill him. Failing." His jaw clenches. "I became something cold. Something angry. I forgot what it was like to care about anything except revenge. Then I found you."
"A five-year-old girl in a dirty alley, trying to save a stray cat."
"A five-year-old girl with the biggest heart I'd ever seen." He smiles sadly. "You fed me with food you'd stolen because your adoptive parents wouldn't feed you properly. You talked to me about your day, your dreams, your fears. You loved me when I was just a scraggly stray. And slowly, over the years, you reminded me what it felt like to be alive. To care. To hope."
Tears blur my vision. "You gave me something too. When everyone else ignored me or hurt me, you were there. You listened. You cared. You were the only constant good thing in my life."
"I fell in love watching you grow," he admits. "Watching you refuse to become bitter despite everything they did to you. Watching you nurture broken things back to health. You were so beautiful, so kind, so strong. How could I not love you?"
"I think I loved you too," I whisper. "I just didn't know it. Silver was my best friend. The only one who never judged me or lied to me. And now Kieran is... is..."
"Is what?"
"Everything." The word comes out like a confession. "You're everything to me now. My protector. My teacher. My friend. My—"
I don't finish because he's kissing me.
It's soft and gentle and tastes like hope. His hand cups the back of my neck, thumb brushing my jaw. My fingers tangle in his silver hair. The plants around us sing with joy, their voices harmonizing in my mind.
This. This is what I've been missing. Not Adrian's calculated affection. Not the Moss family's conditional tolerance. But this—genuine, fierce, unconditional love from someone who knows every broken piece of me and loves me anyway.
When we finally pull apart, we're both breathing hard.
"I've wanted to do that for thirteen years," Kieran says, his voice rough with emotion.
"You should have done it sooner."
"You were too young. And I was a cat."
"Details." I grin, feeling lighter than I have in days. "Kiss me again."
He does. This time it's deeper, more urgent. His arms tighten around me and I press closer, wishing we could stay in this moment forever.
But forever is interrupted by every plant in the greenhouse screaming.
We break apart instantly. The supernatural plants that were humming peacefully are now thrashing, their voices a cacophony of terror in my mind.
Danger! Corruption! Death!
"Someone's here," I gasp, jumping to my feet. "Someone dangerous."
Kieran's already moving, positioning himself between me and the door. His claws extend. "The wards should have held—"
"Your wards are pathetic," a familiar voice interrupts.
The greenhouse door doesn't just open—it explodes inward in a shower of wood and dark magic. Standing in the doorway is Lydia.
But not the Lydia from the engagement party. This Lydia is a nightmare.
Dark vines cover her body like armor, pulsing with sickly green light. Thorns jut from her skin. Her hair moves like it's alive, each strand tipped with poison. And her eyes glow with stolen power—power that makes my stomach turn because I can feel where it came from.
She's been draining other Garden-Speakers. Torturing them for their abilities.
"Hello, sister," she purrs, stepping into the greenhouse. Her thorny vines lash out, killing every plant they touch. "Did you miss me?"
"Lydia." My voice shakes with rage. "What did you do?"
"What I had to." She examines her vine-covered hands. "You got to be special. You got to be the chosen one. So I decided to become special too. Victor taught me how to take what should have been mine all along."
"By killing innocent people?"
"By taking power from those too weak to use it properly." Her smile is cruel. "But don't worry. Soon I'll have your power too. And then I'll be the most powerful Garden-Speaker who ever lived."
Behind her, I see more figures moving in the darkness. Harvesters. At least twenty of them.
We're surrounded. Outnumbered. And Lydia has power that rivals my own.
Kieran tenses beside me, ready to fight. But I can feel his exhaustion through our bond. He's stronger than before, but not strong enough for this.
"Last chance, Elara," Lydia says. "Surrender now and I'll kill you quickly. Make me work for it and I'll torture you first. Your choice."
I look at Kieran. At the greenhouse he built hoping to show me someday. At the life we could have had if Victor had never found us.
Then I look at Lydia and her army of darkness.
"My choice?" I step forward, my hands beginning to glow. "My choice is to show you what a real Garden-Speaker can do."
Every plant in the greenhouse responds to my call.
But before I can attack, something strange happens. The silver-leafed tree behind me—the one that was humming with power—suddenly wraps its branches around my arms, holding me in place.
"What—" I struggle but the branches tighten. "Kieran, what's happening?"
His face has gone pale. "That tree... I didn't plant that tree. It was here when I found this place fifty years ago. I thought it was dormant but—"
The tree speaks. Not in the gentle voice of normal plants, but in a voice like grinding stone and ancient earth.
"The Master calls. The Master demands. The Garden-Speaker must answer."
"Victor," Kieran breathes in horror. "Victor's been controlling it this whole time. This entire greenhouse was a trap. He wanted us to come here."
Lydia's laugh is cruel and triumphant. "Did you really think you were so clever? Running to all these 'safe' houses? Victor's known about every single one for decades. He let you run. Let you think you were escaping. All so you'd end up exactly where he wanted you."
The tree's branches start dragging me toward the door. Toward Lydia. Toward the Harvesters waiting outside.
"Elara!" Kieran lunges for me but more vines shoot up from the floor, wrapping around his legs, his arms, his throat.
"No!" I scream, fighting against the tree's hold. My power flares but the tree absorbs it, feeding on my energy to grow stronger.
"Don't worry," Lydia says sweetly. "Victor wants you alive. For now. He has such interesting plans for you and your parents." She leans in close. "Did you know he's been keeping them in cages for eighteen years? Using them for experiments? By the time he's done with you, you'll wish he'd just killed you at the engagement party."
Pure rage explodes through me—hotter and stronger than anything I've felt before. The tree's branches start to smoke where they touch my skin.
"Impressive," Lydia says. "But not enough."
She's right. It's not enough. The tree is too strong, too old, too deeply connected to Victor's magic.
As I'm dragged through the doorway, the last thing I see is Kieran struggling against the vines, screaming my name, his eyes full of desperate love and helpless fury.
Then darkness swallows me whole.
And somewhere in that darkness, I hear Victor's voice laughing.