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One hundred and thirty two: mysterious haunting
Last Updated:
2025-07-09 22:34:23
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The cursed mate's return One hundred and thirty three: echoed part
Freya's pov Talia was still asleep when I woke, curled tightly beneath Mira’s cloak, the pendant now tucked inside my satchel. I hadn’t dreamed, but the weight of the other me—the girl with white hair, the one who’d paid the price—clung to me like frost.Outside, the dawn was pale and unwilling.Kye was already up, crouched by the doorway, sharpening his blade with the kind of focus that looked like distraction. He didn’t speak when I stepped out, just passed me half of a dried ration and nodded toward the rising sun.“How long do you think we have?” I asked, keeping my voice low.“Before whatever came through finishes what it started?” he asked, glancing sideways. “Not long.”We stood in silence, the kind that wasn’t heavy, just honest.Then he added, “Do you regret it?”I turned to him. “The kiss?”His lips quirked slightly. “The choice. To be the one who came back.”I swallowed hard. “I think… I regret not knowing what it cost. Not remembering what I traded for this version of mys
The cursed mate's return One hundred and thirty two: mysterious haunting
Freya's pov The village was colder than it should have been but not just from the altitude or the way the wind curled low around the ruined buildings, it was an absence to complete it felt like a scream that was really swallowed all up.We moved through the narrow paths, quiet and alert. The ground was scattered with bits of broken things like shattered pottery, torn satchels, pieces of lives that had been left behind too quickly.“They left in a hurry,” Rowan said, kneeling to examine a trail of deep footprints in the mud. “No time to pack. No time to think.”“No time to fight either” Kye added.He was standing close again more than he had before, like proximity might protect me from what was coming or from what we might still become.My fingers brushed the sigil under my bandage. The warmth had faded, but something else stirred in its place. A soft hum, like breath walked past us.“We’re being watched,” I said.That wasn't a question, that was the truth.Kye didn’t look away from t
The cursed mate's return One hundred and thirty one: floating magic
Freya's pov “Don’t light another fire,” Rowan said quietly, rolling his cloak and slinging it over his shoulder. “We’ve drawn enough attention already.”Mira raised an eyebrow. “So we just walk back into the world cold and hungry?”“Yes,” he said. “Preferably unnoticed.”“Too late for that,” Finnick muttered, rubbing at the side of his head like it still ached. “I can feel it watching us. Still. Like something left its eyes behind.”Kye stood a few feet from me, arms crossed, gaze on the trees like he expected them to reach out and pull us back into the Hollows. “It’s not watching,” he said. “It’s waiting.”I tightened the strap on my pack. “Then we don’t give it a reason to follow.”No one argued.We left the edge of the Hollows behind in silence, each step pulling us further from the place where everything had split and shifted but the distance didn’t matter. I could feel the weight of what I’d done like a hollowness in my chest. Where the memory had been, there was only quiet now.
The cursed mate's return One hundred and thirty: the memory price
Freya's pov We didn’t speak for a long time after the fire returned to normal. The echo of me or whatever she had been was gone. The forest had closed back over her place like flesh knitting over a wound, but the wound was still there, deep and festering beneath the bark and moss and stone.I kept my hand clenched, palm pressed to my side, trying to ignore the throb pulsing from the sigil. It wasn’t just pain it was urgency, like a tether pulling taut, dragging me toward something unseen but inevitable.The Hollows had always been strange, but now they felt hungry.“Keep moving,” Rowan said quietly. He didn’t meet my eyes. “We don’t want to be here when the light fades again.”Kye fell in beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed as we walked. His hand occasionally twitched toward his spear, even though nothing had followed us yet.We moved fast through the underbrush, but it didn’t feel fast enough. The woods were heavier now, pressing down on us with every step, the trees
The cursed mate's return One hundred and twenty nine: not me but mine
Freya's pov “She looked like me,” I said, voice low. “But not.”Mira stopped sharpening her blade and glanced up. “You sure it wasn’t a trick? Illusion magic can mimic—”“No.” I met her eyes. “It was me. Or some version. Just… hollowed out.”Kye paced the edge of the firelight, restless. “Then that thing didn’t just want to kill you. It wanted to replace you.”“I don’t think it could.” I tugged my knees closer to my chest. “But it tried. It knew how.”Finnick stirred with a groan, dragging one arm over his face. “Tell me we’re not still in that damn ruin.”Rowan knelt beside him, offering water. “No. You’re safe. We pulled out fast.”“Then why,” Finnick muttered, taking a shaky sip, “do I feel like something's still clawing around in my head?”Because it was. But I didn’t say that out loud.Instead, I stood. The forest pressed in around us dark, damp, quiet. Too quiet. Even the usual night sounds crickets, owls, wind were missing.“Kye,” I said softly. “We’re not alone.”His spear wa
The cursed mate's return One hundred and twenty eight: open door
Freya's pov The fog closed behind us like a breath held too long.Each step toward the edge of the valley pulled the warmth from my bones. Not from cold but from something older. Like the world itself was watching.“I hate this kind of quiet,” Mira muttered as we crossed the bridge. “Like the trees are praying for us.”Kye was at my side, spear slung over his shoulder. “Or warning.”We followed the strangers through the mists. They didn’t look back once, didn’t speak, didn’t falter. Their robes barely moved even though the wind was beginning to rise.“They're walking like people who’ve already seen what’s waiting,” Finnick whispered behind me. “And still decided to go.”That should’ve stopped me.It didn’t.The ground sloped gently until the trees gave way to flat stone. Black and smooth, veined with pale blue light—glowing faintly beneath our feet. The three figures stopped in the center of a circular ruin. I didn’t recognize it.But part of me did.“This place isn’t on any map,” Ro
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