Page 12 of A Soul’s Awakening

We both darted straight for Alex.

“Don’t let them near the array!” It was Leon who called out as he shoved someone aside and chased after us. With the auction having ended, the tent was nearly empty, but every remaining rift warden had their eyes on us.

“What now?” Jordan gasped, staring at Alex kneeling on the dirt. We were both restrained, unable to effectively use our magic. Neither of us was very skilled in fighting either. A rift warden descended upon Jordan and swung a fist at his face. Unprepared, he held up his hands to defend himself but took the blow to his jaw.

Right as the hit landed, I opened ‌my palm, sliding two fingers across it. As the rift warden slipped and fell, a sharp, burning pain tore through me, followed by a crushing wave of depletion that drained the magic from my body like it was being siphoned straight from my veins. If I kept doing this, I’d end up destroying my own magic, but at least I’d be alive. Maybe.

“H-how did you do that? Use your magic?” Jordan rubbed his red cheek, blood dripping down his bottom lip.

“It’s weak, but I can use it a little.” It wasn’t something I could easily explain, and not in the moment, but it was Caspian’s unique magic with a mind of its own pushing to the surface as best it could, fueled by the life or death situation I was in.

Chaos broke out inside the tent. Those who weren’t fighters, like the buyers or deal brokers, bolted for the exits, shoving past one another in their desperation to escape. Leon, despite the fact he no longer had his magic, found one of the magic objects that had been sold off earlier, and twirled the obsidian blade in his hand. Several rift wardens, the ones alive with magic, circled around us with Leon leading the way.

“There’s nowhere for you to run.” A rift warden with a long beard and black ponytail danced a ball of fire across his fingertips before flinging it in my direction.

Without thinking, I brought up my arms to stack them together, ready for another blaze of pain to tear through me, but before I could finish the spell, a hand clamped around my wrist and yanked me sideways as I lost my footing and tumbled to the ground. The ball of fire shot past me, slamming into a wooden table stacked with documents and paperwork. It didn’t take long for the flames to catch, devouring the parchment in a rush of heat and smoke.

“Roy, you dumbass!” Leon spat, his voice sharp with fury. The magical fire surged outward, greedily consuming the table before leaping to the tent’s fabric, spreading fast and wild, determined to burn everything in its path.

I rolled over, thinking Jordan was the one who grabbed me, but instead was greeted by the mysterious cloaked figure who had lost his bid to that lecherous man.

“Theo!” Jordan raced over toward me, blocked by a wall of magical fire but chucking a rock at the cloaked man, completely missing his target.

I scrambled back a few inches, the heat of the fire hot at my back. Kicking out my feet, the man tripped and fell onto a knee.

“Come to steal what you couldn’t afford?” I snarled, lunging on top of him. I managed to pin him for a moment, using the chains to my advantage by pressing them against his throat, but he met my weight with his own, forcing me back as we strained against each other.

“Theo, stop!” he gasped beneath me, his hood falling back in the struggle.

I instantly froze. The man had short, neatly trimmed blonde hair. A strong jaw. Brown eyes that used to burn with smug confidence. My breath caught in my throat.

“James Whitefield?” I breathed, the name scraping out before I could stop it. “W-what the fuck?”

“Theo, do you trust me?”

The words echoed in my head. No, it couldn’t have been James Whitfield. I had never actually met the real James Whitfield. The reporter I had known was a farce, an illusion. And yet, the face staring back at me had called me out by name, asking for my trust.

There was only one person I knew of who’d ask me that question. And when his expression shifted, I realized the flicker in those eyes wasn’t vengeance or arrogance—it was remorse. I had seen that expression before, on a man who had begged for my forgiveness when he’d told me about his past, when guilt had weighed so heavily on him that he’d willingly sacrificed himself to drag Leon into the underworld to shield me from the organization hellbent on destroying my life and controlling my magic.

And that was when I realized the man on the ground underneath me wasn’t James at all.

It was Ren. And I didn’t just trust that man with my life. I trusted him with my soul.

8

“R-Ren?” I pulled back, still straddling the man underneath me but no longer trying to strangle him. “Is it really you?”

“Dandelion weed,” he greeted with a firm, teasing tone, coughing as he did. “I see you’re still annoying and showing up in places you’re not wanted.”

It wasn’t how I imagined our gallant reunion to happen—him cloaked in the glamour of someone I’d once hated and scolding me for following him into the underworld as I teetered on the edge of becoming someone’s toy and being reduced to ashes by a raging fire around us. But even if it wasn’t his true face or his husky voice, his presence soaked deep within my bones, relief washing over me. Hearing Ren call me his dandelion weed again nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I rolled off him, right on top of a burning patch of grass that singed my palm. I recoiled, hissing at the sting while fanning it out as a red welt formed. “H-how—”

“Later,” he said as he jumped to his feet and pulled me up with him. “Why are you still wearing these stupid things on your wrists? Get rid of them.”

“They’re suppressing my magic. I can’t.” My eyes bulged as I glimpsed over Ren’s shoulder. Sensing a threat, he wrapped his arms around me, a rippling dome of magic surrounding us. A projectile hit the barrier, electricity sizzling across it and fizzling out as he turned around. Through the rising flames, a female rift warden stood with two fingers raised, stretching a glowing magical thread between them like a slingshot as she fired shimmering projectiles in our direction.

Ren’s hand clenched around my shackles, the metal crumbling to dust beneath his touch. My magic roared to life, flooding my veins with heat, burning away the weakness that had weighed me down.