Novels by GracieXX

Zelest’s POV. Something was wrong.I couldn’t name it at first—just a heaviness. A strange pressure in my chest, like the world was tilting on its side, slanted in the worst forms of italicized words. Then came the pain. Dull at first then it grew sharper. A breath caught in my throat before I got swallowed by the darkness.The next time I came by, it wasn’t the same.The ache in my ribs still pulsed, but the darkness had loosened its grip on me. The smell hit me before anything else—bitter roots, dried lavender, crushed mint, unlike our tent. Herbs.This wasn’t our tent. This was the healer’s. I was still on campgrounds. My eyelids felt like lead, but I managed to blink, adjusting to the soft lamplight. My head throbbed, but the world came into focus slowly—there were shelves lined with bottles, and a faint crackling from a small fire nearby.And then there was him. Liam.Slumped beside the bedroll I was laid out on, his head bowed, his fingers wound tightly around my wrist like h

Liam’s POV. The scent hit me slowly, something foul hanging in the air. I paused, pen hovering over my notebook, my eyes narrowing. It wasn’t woodsmoke from campfires or damp earth from the humid air.It was blood…and something foul underneath it. Something wrong. Rogue.My body tensed. I closed the notebook and stood up to inhale again.It was definitely rogue. And it was close too, dangerously so.The sound of leaves rustling too fast, twigs snapping under the weight of something caught my senses. Followed by a low growl. I prepared myself to shift and attack, although my hand subconsciously wandered to my waist, gingerly waiting for danger so I could pluck my dagger. But nothing came. Instead, the growl tore from far away…from the heart of the camp. Someone was being ambushed.My pulse kicked up as I moved before thinking, sprinting back to the camp to save the one person I’ve spent my whole day avoiding. Zelest.I didn’t hesitate. I took off into the trees, barely noticing ho

Zelest’s POV. I woke up to an empty space beside me and although the faint scent of vanilla was still clinging to the pillow, Liam was gone.The heat from his body still lingered, seared into the sleeping bag like a mark. My fingers brushed the space where his arm had been wrapped around me and I remembered—how he’d held me tight in his arms like I belonged there.And how I’d buried my hand in his hair. Goddess.I rubbed my face, half-embarrassed, half… something else. Something I couldn’t name.By the time I made it out of the tent, the camp was already bustling with people who had tasks to perform. Liam stood a few paces away, arms crossed, his usual stoic expression perfectly on his face.He didn’t look at me.I walked toward him, and his posture stiffened. Still no eye contact. Still avoiding me like I’d done something unspeakable.So that’s what this was. He was rattled by what had transpired between us.I watched him give crisp responses to the camp leader, his jaw ticking ever

Liam’s POV. Two weeks into the retreat and the forest had decided to freeze us alive.The temperature dropped lower than forecasted, and the firewood stash was near useless. Even the tent itself felt like a thin veil barely separating us from the wintery woods outside. My breath misted in the air, visible even inside.Zelest shivered across from me, arms tucked into himself with his lips pale. I hated how my body noticed things I shouldn’t be noticing. Like the way his shirt clung to him after days of minimal laundry, or the way his skin flushed in the cold, drawing attention to his cheekbones.“I’m fine,” he muttered for the umpteenth time.“You’re not,” I replied bluntly. “You’re freezing.”“So are you.”“I can handle it.”A long silence passed before his voice came again, low and dry, “We could share the sleeping bag. Body heat, and all that survival crap.”My heart sank at his suggestion. No, that was a horrible idea. A terrible, hormone-triggering, bond-intensifying, dignity-s

Zelest’s POV. I should’ve noticed it sooner. The twitch in Liam’s jaw. The way his body stiffened beside mine as we hobbled back toward the camp. At first, I thought it was just his usual need to control every situation, even the ones that didn’t need controlling. But there was something else. Something feral.He kept sniffing the air.I rolled my eyes and hissed under my breath, “You’re doing that thing again.”“What thing?” he asked, voice tight.“The sniffer routine,” I grumbled. “You act like the wind's whispering war threats.”He halted, forcing me to stop too, his arm still around me for balance. His eyes narrowed at me. “You didn’t smell that?”“I smell wet leaves, earth, and the unmistakable scent of you being tense for no damn reason.”Liam’s expression didn’t shift. Just his nostrils flared slightly. His hand on my waist was firm, grounding—too grounding. “There’s blood, Hawthorne.”I groaned. “There’s always blood in the woods. Foxes, deer, panthers, I don’t know. But wh

Liam’s POV. My eyes blinked open to faint dawnlight seeping into the tent. For a moment, I didn’t register anything unusual… until I noticed the warmth beneath my palm.A soft fabric, steady breathing, the faint scent of gourmand and sandalwood… and a waist.I stiffened.My gaze dropped, confirming the worst—or the best, depending on who you asked. My arm was looped tightly around Zelest Hawthorne’s waist like it belonged there.What in the actual hell?Panic clawed at my chest. I hadn’t just reached out in my sleep—I’d clung. My hand splayed over his abdomen like some desperate lover needing anchorage. And the worst part?He hadn't moved.He was still, his back pressed against my chest, and I could feel the rise and fall of his breath beneath my fingertips. Peaceful. Warm. Familiar.I slowly—painfully—unhooked my arm, my breath hitching as I did. He didn’t stir. Thank the goddess.I sat up, resting my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands.What is happening to me?The bond