Finn

  I was fine.

  Totally fine.

  It was completely normal to be lying in bed with Isla, her head tucked beneath my chin, her breath warm against my collarbone. Completely normal to have one arm wrapped around her while my other hand rested on the small of her back. Completely normal that her snakes had draped themselves over me like some kind of living weighted blanket.

  Yeah. Totally fine.

  I exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on literally anything else besides how not fine I actually was. Isla had asked me not to leave her alone tonight and after some slight awkwardness, we settled on top of the guest bed, on top of the blankets.

  “Finn?” Isla’s voice was soft, hesitant.

  I tightened my arm around her automatically. “Yeah?”

  A pause. “Thanks.”

  My chest ached. “Always.”

  I meant it. And that was the problem because this wasn’t just a moment. It wasn’t just comfort after a long, terrifying day. This was her—choosing to let me in. Trusting me. And for someone like Isla, that was monumental. That meant I was in deeper than I had any right to be. I closed my eyes, willing myself to just be in the moment. To not get caught up in what this meant, what it could mean, what it already did mean—

  And then the visions hit.

  Sharp and sudden, like a knife between my ribs.

  A flash—

  Isla laughing, head thrown back, warmth in her eyes as I leaned in close, her snakes tangling in my hair—

  Gone.

  A shift—

  Blood. So much blood. A dark alley. Isla on her knees, hands pressed to someone’s chest, shaking her head, whispering No, no, no—

  Gone.

  Another shift—

  Jonas, holding a mug, looking uncharacteristically serious. You need to tell her, he was saying. Before it’s too late.

  Gone.

  Another—

  A kitchen, sun streaming through the window. Isla standing at the stove, stirring something, wearing my shirt—

  Gone.

  Too fast. Too much. I clenched my jaw, fingers digging into the fabric of Isla’s shirt as I tried to keep myself grounded. The visions weren’t usually like this—rapid-fire, fragmented, slipping through my fingers before I could make sense of them.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  And then the last one hit. Cold. The heavy weight of water pressing in from all sides. A voice, thick and amused— Did you really think you could keep her from me?

  I sucked in a sharp breath, my entire body going rigid.

  Isla stirred. “Finn?”

  I forced my muscles to relax, forced my breathing to steady. “I’m here.”

  She didn’t question it. Just curled closer, her fingers curling against my side. “Visions?” She asked quietly.

  I swallowed hard, keeping my grip gentle, even as my mind reeled. I nodded. Some of those visions were nothing. Fragments of possibilities, glimpses of futures that may never come to pass.

  But some of them…

  Some of them were warnings.

  And one of them felt a hell of a lot like a promise.

  ***

  The first thing I noticed when I woke up the next morning was the headache.

  A deep, throbbing ache settled behind my eyes, the kind that came from too many visions, too little sleep, and the sheer effort of staying here when my mind kept getting dragged everywhere. Every time I drifted, another flicker of the future yanked me back. Some had been important, some had been nonsense, and some I couldn’t make sense of at all.

  The second thing I noticed was her.

  Isla was still asleep, her breathing steady and even, her body warm against mine. My arm was half-numb under her weight, but I didn’t dare move. I wasn’t sure if it was for her sake or mine.

  Then I noticed them.

  Tiny, unfamiliar snakes peeked out from her hair, watching me with eerie, silent curiosity. I froze. New ones. Damn it. I should have thought of it sooner—what yesterday might do to her. The exhaustion, the stress, the fear. Her body responding the only way it knew how.

  A bitter taste settled at the back of my throat. I hated this. Hated that her own magic turned against her like this, that the worse things got, the more it changed her, burdened her.

  The smallest of the new snakes blinked at me, head tilting in a way that was far too inquisitive for something that had literally just been born.

  I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to relax. Not their fault. Not hers either. But it meant she’d wake up with a headache. Maybe worse. The first few days after gaining new snakes were always bad, weren’t they? Jonas had mentioned it once, in that offhand way of his, back before I ever met her.

  She needed water. Hydration helped, at least a little. And food—something with salt, something substantial. I started mentally inventorying what was in Jonas’ kitchen, what I could put together before she woke up.

  A sharp pulse of pain throbbed behind my temples, cutting the thought short.

  I gritted my teeth. The night had been brutal. Holding her had been—amazing, honestly. More grounding than I wanted to admit. But I hadn’t slept. Every time my eyes closed, the visions came.

  A flicker of a scrabble game.

  A flash of blood on concrete.

  Her hand in mine, fingers laced together like it was the most natural thing in the world.

  Jonas, standing over a map, frowning.

  Her snakes wrapping around my arm, tightening, tightening—

  A door slamming shut.

  A sub sandwich, half eaten, but I know it’s poisoned.

  A whisper of my own name, but distorted, stretched—

  I forced the memories away before they could take root, exhaling carefully through my nose.

  Not the time.

  I shifted slightly, trying to regain some feeling in my arm without waking her. One of the new snakes flicked its tongue against my wrist, I moved my finger toward her and she wrapped herself around me, no bigger than a pencil. She promptly chomped down on the side of my finger and I sucked in a breath, trying to remain silent. There was no malice in the bite. At least they weren’t afraid of me. That thought shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did. Her snakes, even now were draped over me, sleeping.

  I glanced at Isla again, taking in the tiny furrow in her brow, the way her lips parted slightly as she breathed. She was warm against me, curled close like she belonged there.

  I was getting used to this. Too used to it. With a quiet sigh, I let my eyes slip closed, just for a moment. The headache wasn’t going anywhere, but at least I could try to rest while she slept. Even if rest was all I’d get.

  So naturally, that is when Jonas burst into the room. “Hope you two are decent. I brought haggis and plenty of water.”