Chapter 183

Agnes

I stared at the smoking trail behind me, my mind refusing to process what my eyes were seeing. The grass was charred black.

As if it had been burnt by my very feet.

“Did I do that?” I whispered, looking from the scorched earth to Elijah’s stunned face.

Before Elijah could answer, I became aware of the murmurs around us. People were pointing, whispering. Even the young couple we’d been racing against had stopped to stare at the scorched grass.

To my surprise, Elijah quickly got to his feet. He reached down and helped me up, then turned to face the crowd.

“Nothing to worry about, everyone,” he announced with an award-winning smile. He turned to me and wrapped his arm around my waist, tugging me close. “My mate’s wolf is finally emerging after years of being put under a curse by Olivia, as many of you know.”

I shot him a confused look. What was he doing?

“She doesn’t yet have full control of her werewolf speed,” he continued smoothly, “so her feet just created a lot of friction.”

The crowd’s murmurs grew slightly, and one person called out, “Your wolf must be really strong, Luna Agnes, if your speed alone created enough friction to make the grass smoke!”

I blinked, but a subtle poke from Elijah in my ribs made me clear my throat and say, “I think she was just asleep for so long that she’s excited to use her power.” My words were met with nods of approval and even some scattered applause.

And just like that, people began to disperse, returning to their festival activities as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

“Friction?” I murmured under my breath. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Elijah replied tightly as he guided me away from the couples’ games area. “Come on. We need to talk. Privately.”

He led me behind one of the larger tents, away from prying eyes and ears. As soon as we were alone, his composure cracked, and he gripped my shoulders, his eyes scanning over me as if looking for injuries.

“Are you alright? Do you feel any different? Any pain? Dizziness?”

“I’m fine,” I assured him, although my heart was still racing. “Just… confused. What the hell was that, Elijah? I’ve never moved that fast in my life, and the grass…” I trailed off, not knowing how to articulate what we’d both seen.

“Your feet literally burned the grass,” he whispered. “And I think we both know it wasn’t friction from speed. It was heat—like what happened with the coffee mug this morning, and with my mate mark on our honeymoon.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking more bewildered than I’d possibly ever seen him. “Agnes, I think you might have elemental abilities.”

“But the elementals haven’t existed for—”

“Generations,” Elijah finished. “I know. But what other explanation is there? You generate heat when you’re emotionally charged.”

I tried to process this. Elemental abilities? Me? “But my wolf never exhibited such powers before.”

“I could be wrong,” Elijah admitted. “But either way, Agnes, we need to keep this quiet for now.” His face grew serious. “If word gets out that you’re potentially an elemental—a fire elemental at that—it could put you in danger.”

“Danger? From who?”

“Other packs, for one,” he explained. “Elemental werewolves were prized and often stolen from their home packs in the old days. And then there are those who might fear your power, see it as a threat. They might try to persecute you, even harm you.”

A chill ran down my spine despite the warm day. “So what do we do?”

“For now, we have to keep it between us,” Elijah said firmly. “We’ll research, experiment—carefully—and figure out what’s happening to you. But in public, we have to stick with the story that your wolf is simply emerging and you’re having trouble controlling the enhanced abilities.”

I nodded, although my mind was reeling. “Okay. The secret’s safe with me.” I glanced down at my bandaged hands. “But Elijah, what if it happens again? What if I can’t control it?” I bit my lip, trying not to conjure up the worst images. Burnt bedsheets. Fires. Or what if I accidentally burned Thea?

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised, his hands gently cupping my face. “Together. Like we do everything else.”

I nodded once more, and Elijah leaned forward, pressing a gentle and calming kiss to my forehead. But the tender moment was quickly interrupted by one of the festival attendants clearing her throat nervously.

“Excuse me, Luna Agnes? Your presentation is ready to begin in five minutes. The crowd is already gathering at the main stage.”

I’d almost forgotten about the unveiling of the survival bag.

“Thank you,” I told the attendant. “I’ll be right there.”

I hurried to the nearest restroom to freshen up before the presentation. After splashing some cool water on my face and adjusting my clothes, I made my way to the main stage. The crowd that had gathered was larger than I’d expected, filling the entire area in front of the stage.

I spotted Elijah in the front row, as promised, with Thea perched on his shoulders for a better view. She had a popsicle in one hand that was dripping onto Elijah’s shoulder, although he didn’t seem to notice or care. The sight eased the rest of my nerves and made me smile.

Taking a deep breath, I climbed the steps to the stage where my survival bag prototype was waiting, covered by a cloth.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” I began. “Thank you all for coming to this year’s Goddess Festival, especially with its new focus on helping locate missing persons.”

The crowd applauded, and I waited for it to die down before continuing.

“As many of you know, this cause is deeply personal to me. Seven years ago, my infant daughter was abducted from her crib. And just recently, her remains were found.” My voice wavered slightly, and the crowd stilled. I cleared my throat. “But before you pity me, I want to say that…”

My eyes flicked to Elijah and Thea. “...Finding her remains was devastating, yes. But it also brought me a sense of peace that I hadn’t been able to feel for seven years.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “For seven years, I searched for her—for any sign of her. The pain of not knowing what happened to your child is indescribable. It’s a wound that never truly heals.”

I paused, gathering myself. “If you have ever lost a loved one, you’ll do anything to find them, to bring them back to you. But unfortunately, sometimes we find them too late.”

With a flourish, I pulled the cloth away, revealing the navy blue survival bag. “This is why I’ve been working on a survival bag designed specifically with safety in mind.”

I went through the features one by one—the paracord straps, the thermal lining, the built-in flint and steel, the panic button compartment, the extendable cords for the whistle and pepper spray.

“Every feature of this bag was designed with one question in mind: Could this save someone’s life? Could this keep our loved ones alive until help comes their way? Perhaps it wouldn’t have saved my baby girl, but it might save your loved ones. It might save you.”

The crowd was silent as I demonstrated how the bag could be unfolded into a small shelter, how the compartments were hidden yet easily accessible in an emergency.

“These bags are available for preorder today and production will begin tomorrow, with all profits going directly to the newly established Isabella Foundation—named after my missing daughter.”

A murmur went through the crowd at the mention of my daughter’s name. I’d never publicly shared it before, preferring to keep that small piece of her private. But now, with the foundation bearing her name, it felt right to acknowledge her fully.

“The Isabella Foundation will fund search efforts for missing persons, provide support for families, and raise awareness about abductions and disappearances. Your donations today are just the beginning of what I hope will be a lasting legacy—one that might prevent other families from experiencing the loss that mine has.”

I concluded my speech to thunderous applause. As I stepped away from the microphone, festival attendants began distributing order forms for the bags and information about the foundation.

People immediately lined up, eager to place pre-orders or make additional donations. I watched from the stage, blinking back tears. This was everything I’d worked for these past weeks, and it was turning out even better than I’d hoped.

And yet, in the back of my mind, the scorched grass still haunted me. Could I really be an elemental? The thought seemed too fantastic to be true, and yet what other explanation was there?

As I gathered my notes and prepared to leave the stage, my eyes scanned the crowd, seeking out Elijah and Thea. They were still in the front row, both grinning from ear to ear.

But then, beyond them, another face caught my attention. Standing at the back of the crowd, partially obscured by a tall festival tent, was my father.

Our eyes locked across the distance, and my blood ran cold.

He held my gaze for a long, unsettling moment. Then, he turned and disappeared into the crowd without a second glance.