I cry myself to sleep, and thankfully don’t dream of darkness or anything for that matter. After Foster speculated my dreams might carry a bit of the truth, I’m reluctant to ever dream again.

Eventually, restlessness compels me to open my eyes.

Foster is sleeping beside me with his arm resting on my hip, looking peaceful and gorgeous as ever

I watch him sleep for a while, finding solace in it and trying not to focus on the fact that I’m the power source for the elemental enchanter god, that I could be part of what fixes our world, that I could potentially save others from deaths like Foster’s grandparents and Charlotte’s husband. But it’s all I think about—the possibility of what I could do and how frightening it is. Yet, in the back of my mind, I want to. I want to help others. Help the Everettsons like they helped me.

Eventually, I climb out of bed and make my way over to the window to see what Elemental Enchantment looks like.

When I lift my hand to pull back the curtain, I note the dried blood on my hands, a reminder of how much pain I’d been in when Foster told me about my parents. Or well, Marla and Scott. They almost feel like strangers to me now, even though they raised me. But technically, they didn’t. Technically, I pretty much raised myself. And it had never bothered me too much before. In fact, I thought that’s how things were supposed to be. But then I met the Everettsons and realized that parents are supposed to care about their kids. I wonder if that’s how my life would’ve been if my real mom raised me. Then again, she left me with Scott and Marla so she might not be that great.

As pain tears at my chest again, my fingernails instinctively curl inward. Not wanting to reopen the gashes on my palms, I open the curtain and focus on the scene before me.

The sight is startling, yet I find some sort of serenity in it, as if I belong to it or it belongs to me. And I’m kind of glad. This place is beautiful, with a sky as blue as lightning, and a sun as silvery as the crystals on snowflakes. The leaves in the flourishing trees look like iridescent rain lingering on the ground as the sunlight peeks out from the clouds to greet it. The wind dances around in ribbons of swirls, and the grass around the house I’m in is as orange and vibrant as flames. Put it all together, and this world is all the elements combined, which makes sense since that’s sort of what an elemental enchanter is.

“It’s pretty, right?” Foster says as he moves up behind me.

I whirl around to face him with my hand pressed to my heart. “Holy shit, I didn’t hear you get up.”

His hair is a little ruffled, and his clothes are wrinkled, but the dark circles underneath his eyes are less prominent.

“I think you were a little distracted by the view.” He looks at me. “It’s beautiful, right?”

I nod and try not to squirm, but the way he’s staring at me, as if I’m important, makes me extremely nervous. Between being one of the only elemental enchanters left, and being the power source of the god of elemental enchanters at that, how am I to ever know whether anyone really likes me for me or if they’re simply sticking around to protect what I am? Maybe I was always destined to be alone, which is a miserable thought, but nonetheless I can’t get it out of my mind.

Foster’s lips sink into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

Sighing, I brush past him and plop down on the edge of the bed, tucking my hands underneath my legs. “I’m just thinking about what I am and how it’s kind of a curse.”

He sits down beside me, so close our knees touch and his power surges through me. “It has to be hard to deal with. But, like I said, we’re going to protect you. My family and I, we won’t let anything happened to you.”

“I know, but between what I am and with my … with Marla and Scott just bailing on me … how am I ever supposed to know if anyone likes me for me?” I roll my eyes at myself. “Okay, please just forget I said that. I sound like a child.”

“You don’t sound like a child. In fact, you’ve handled this very maturely.” He intertwines his fingers through mine and gives my hand a squeeze. “Easton and I were honestly worried you might try to run again after I told you, but you didn’t, because you’re strong. You’re seriously the strongest creature I’ve ever met.” He looks down at our hands and swallows hard. “I think… I need to tell you something else.”

I struggle not to cringe, but I’m concerned about how much more new information my mind and emotions can handle. “Okay.”

He lifts his gaze to mine. “It might be easier if I just showed you by using my ability again. That is, if you’re okay with that?”

“You want to project your thoughts into me again?” I ask, making sure I’m understanding him correctly.

He gives a wavering nod. “But only if it’s okay with you.”

“It’s perfectly okay.” It’s not like it was bad the first time he did it. Just startling.

Of course, when he practically bubbles with nerves as he reaches out and places his hands on the sides of my head, I just about retract my statement. But before I can part my lips, his memories soar into me, clips and images filling my mind. Memories of him standing outside the auto body shop, of the first time he saw me, which was the same day I first saw him. How beautiful he thought I looked. How he wished he could talk to me yet knew he couldn’t. How he went back to my town all the time just to get a glimpse of me. How he saw me around town, sometimes with my friends, sometimes alone, and how sad I looked—I never realized I looked that sad. How scared he was the day I approached him. How he wanted to kiss me so badly when I did. How much it hurt when he had to turn me down. How much it hurt every time he was mean to me. How excited he was when he found out what I was, but that he was also afraid. Afraid that I hated him. Afraid that he’d still be alone.

Afraid. Afraid. Afraid.

But that fear shifted into something else when he spoke to me in the bushes and continued to shift every other moment we spent together. And when he kissed me, he was still afraid, but for a different reason.

Afraid that he’d lose me.

By the time he lowers his hands, I’m breathing profusely. He looks at me, seeming a bit shy and unsure, like how I imagined he would be before I met him that day at the auto body shop.

I want to say so much to him, tell him everything, tell him anything, take away his pain, but my lips are stunned into silence. So, I do the only thing I can do.

I lean forward and press my lips against his.

He doesn’t hesitate, kissing me back, his tongue slipping into my mouth. His power surges through me and my heart speeds up, fluttering like a damn lunatic. Sparks of electricity dance across my flesh and spin a web toward him, mixing with his power and sending lightning crackling through our bodies. The sensation feels good.

Really, really good.

No good doesn’t describe this. This kiss is everything my first kiss should’ve been. And my second kiss. In fact, I’ll probably compare every other kiss I have from now on to this kiss, to how wonderful his lips feel on mine. I never want it to end. And I may have let it go on forever if a sharp bite of guilt didn’t nip underneath my skin.

I try to ignore it at first as Foster tangles his fingers through my hair and pulls me closer. But the longer we kiss, the sharper the feeling feels, until it becomes too painful and I have to pull away.

Beyond lost, I wonder if Foster feels the guilt too. But he looks content, his eyes closed, soft breaths rushing from his lips.

When his eyelids open, he reaches up and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry things were so shitty between us at first, but I want to make up for it. Maybe we can start over?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to start over. I like a lot of the stuff that’s happened between us.”

He smiles as brightly as the clear sky outside, and then leans in to kiss me again.

I want him to so badly, but that biting sensation of guilt nips inside me again, like sharp fingernails against my flesh.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask before his lips touch mine. I’m pissed off I have to stop the kiss, want to figure out where the hell this guilty feeling is stemming from. But I can’t ask him. Not about this. “I mean, what’s next, other than me practicing controlling my powers so I can get the portal open?”

“Well, with Easton stuck here with us, we’ll probably want to make opening a secure portal a top priority or else he’s going to drive us crazy.” He tries for a smile, but it looks forced. “And we also need to try to find a way to get your powers to connect to the other gods’ and goddesses’ power sources.”

“What about food and clothes and stuff?” I ask. “Is there things like that here?”

“No, but my mom should be able to send us some supplies through a secure magical signal.”

“If she can send supplies through it, then why can’t she just travel through it?”

“Because the energy of the signal will probably hurt her. Maybe even kill her,” he explains. “Only non-living objects have been transferred through the signal before. That’s why my mom’s shadow only appears when she communicates with us.”

I gape at him. “Her shadow?”

He chuckles at my shock. “It’s kind of like a spirit. All elemental protectors can temporarily remove their spirits from their bodies. But it takes a lot of practice and a lot can go wrong. Out of all my brothers, only Porter has ever tried it, and he did it without ever practicing and … well, he’s never been the same.”

When he mentions Porter’s name, my heart does this bizarre sprinting thing, which makes no sense at all. I barely know Porter, and what I do know kind of unnerves me. So why is my heart suddenly acting like a ditzy spazz at the mention of his name?

“Everyone keeps acting like there’s something different about Porter,” I say. “And I think I may have sensed that when I first met him.”

“There is … But it’s not really my secret to tell.” He wavers. “Maybe one day he’ll tell you.”

“Or maybe you could just tell me now?” I suggest.

“Sorry, but I know he wouldn’t want me to tell you.” He offers me an apologetic look.

“All right, I guess I get why you won’t tell me.” I feel a tug inside my chest, and I’m pretty sure it’s coming from the link. “Do Porter, Max, Hunter, and Holden know what happened to us?”

“They do and they want to come see us as soon as they can.” His eyes shadow over for a fleeting moment, but the lightning returns when he shakes his head. “Hopefully by then, Hunter can fully repair the link.

I nod in agreement, but deep down, I feel like a liar. I’m not sure why other than maybe something is messing with my head. At least I hope that’s what it is.