Taken by the Outcast Alpha (Whispers of Fate)

19. Sage

Chapter nineteen

Sage

I settle down next to the campfire, the warmth seeping into my bones as I watch Finn prepare our simple dinner.

The crackling flames cast dancing shadows across his face, accentuating his strong jawline and the intensity in his amber eyes. I steal glances at the lone tent behind us, my stomach fluttering with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty.

As we eat, I find myself lost in thought. Is this just out of necessity? Who would want to lug around two tents in their backpacks, after all? But then again, the way Finn looks at me sometimes... No, I'm probably just reading too much into things.

Finn leans back against a log, his eyes fixed on the night sky above us. The firelight emphasizes the strong lines of his face, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

"Does the comet help the magic?" he asks suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

I nod, recalling Evelyn's words. "Evelyn thought it would."

"And the moon?" Finn's gaze shifts to me, curiosity evident in his expression.

"Moonflower won't bloom without it," I explain, feeling a small thrill at sharing my knowledge with him.

Finn stands up, his movements fluid and purposeful. "Then it looks like it's time to go," he says, putting out the fire with practiced ease.

Before I can respond, he steps behind the tent. When he emerges, he's in his wolf form, his amber eyes now glowing in the moonlight. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him, so majestic and powerful.

Without thinking, I reach out to touch his fur again, marveling at its softness beneath my fingers. A warmth spreads through me, different from the heat of the dying fire. It's a connection, deep and inexplicable, that seems to grow stronger with each passing moment.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the task ahead. With Finn in his wolf form beside me, I feel a surge of confidence. His presence is both comforting and empowering.

"Okay," I whisper, more to myself than to Finn. "Let's do this."

We move silently through the moonlit forest, my eyes scanning for the telltale glow of the Moonflowers. Finn's ears twitch at every sound, his body tense and ready to protect me at a moment's notice.

Finally, I spot them—delicate, luminescent blooms nestled in a small clearing. My heart races with excitement and nervousness. This is it.

I kneel beside the flowers, feeling the cool earth beneath my knees. Finn positions himself at my back, a solid, warm presence. I can feel his magic humming in the air, intertwining with my own.

Closing my eyes, I begin to chant softly, my hands hovering over the Moonflowers. The words flow from my lips, ancient and powerful. I feel the magic building, swirling around us like a gentle breeze.

Finn's energy pulses behind me, strong and steady. It feeds into my spell, amplifying it in ways I've never experienced before. The connection between us grows stronger, more tangible.

As my chant reaches its crescendo, the Moonflowers glow brighter. Tiny droplets of nectar rise from the center of each bloom, suspended in the air like liquid starlight.

With trembling hands, I guide the nectar into the small vial I've prepared. The process is delicate, requiring intense concentration. Sweat beads on my forehead, but I don't dare break my focus.

Finn's low growl startles me for a moment, but I realize he's not warning of danger. It's almost as if he's lending his voice to my spell, his wolf magic harmonizing with my witchcraft in a way I never thought possible.

As the last drop of nectar enters the vial, I seal it with a whispered word of power. The glow of the Moonflowers fades, leaving us in the soft moonlight once more.

I turn to Finn, a smile of triumph on my face. "We did it," I breathe, clutching the vial to my chest.

My heart nearly stops as a chilling voice cuts through the night. "I am so glad to hear that. It will help me so much."

Damien. How did he find us?

Before I can react, Finn's massive wolf form is between me and the source of the voice, a low growl rumbling from his chest. I clutch the vial of Moonflower Nectar tighter, my mind racing.

Without thinking, I start chanting a protection spell, one I've used countless times before. But this time, it feels different. The words flow from me with an intensity I've never experienced. The air around us crackles with energy, and I can feel the magic swirling, stronger than ever.

For a split second, I wonder if it's the Moonflower Nectar amplifying my power. But as I look at Finn, his amber eyes locked on the shadows where Damien lurks, I realize the truth. It's not the nectar. It's Finn. Our bond, this inexplicable connection between us, is fueling my magic in ways I never thought possible.

My desire to protect Finn, to keep him safe from Damien and his allies, burns within me like a wildfire. It's a feeling so powerful, so all-consuming, that it takes my breath away.

As Damien and his followers emerge from the darkness, I stand tall beside Finn. Our energies intertwine, witch and wolf, creating a shield of magic that pulses with our combined strength.

The fight that unfolds is brutal and chaotic, a blur of fur and fangs and flashing claws. Damien's followers swarm, but Finn is relentless, a force of nature unleashed. I feel his determination in the way he fights, keeping them at bay, and I know we're in this together.

Channeling my magic, I send bolts of energy toward our attackers, my hands glowing with power. I can sense their fear as my spells strike, and I feel no remorse.

Damien's face twists with rage as he sees our united front. He hurls dark magic at us, tendrils of shadow that slither through the air, but our protective barrier holds. It shimmers and pulses, a visible sign of the strength of our bond. I can feel Finn's energy entwined with mine, a shield that protects us both.

The battle is vicious and relentless. Finn and I move as one, our actions mirroring each other, a fluid dance of attack and defense. We anticipate each other's moves, covering vulnerabilities, protecting each other's backs. It's as if our connection has grown beyond words, beyond thought—as if we've shared a lifetime of battles, not mere days of knowing each other.