Chapter 1

30 days before the festival

Sierra

 My connection to the gods was the only anchor I had to stay sane each morning. Seventeen years had gone by, and still, it felt like a lingering ghost haunted me. I had no doubts that I had cursed myself with a Ouija board at some point, probably at one of my sleepovers before my life spiraled into a constant state of looking over my shoulder. I knew many of my old friends humored me when it came to my fascination with anything occult, even if it did give them the heebie-jeebies.

My legs felt tingly in my cross-legged position as I took a deep, steadying inhale through my nose, trying to focus on the scent of the coffee cradled in my hands, the burning sage on our old rusty outdoor side table that doubled as an altar, and the crisp autumn breeze ruffling my long black and lavender hair on the back porch of our old apartment.

If I cracked one of my eyes open right now, my predictable, peeping tom of a neighbor would be sitting out on his lawn chair. The one he most certainly thought was classy porch furniture, chain-smoking in a hideous navy-blue bathrobe, like he did every morning.

I shook my head, trying to recenter myself. That’s how meditation worked, or at least what I’ve learned over the years; I could almost hear my old yoga teacher saying in her soothing hippie-like voice, “Let the thoughts come and go like a summer's breeze.” 

The snort of laughter that came from me was uncontrollable. “Yeah, right.” Mine were more of a smog—lingering, toxic, and hazardous, clouding my mind.

 Inhaling again, Take back your peace, I reminded myself. But honestly, who was I even trying to kid? I haven’t felt at peace since I was twelve, and I doubted I ever would again.

 The attempted serenity was shattered as quickly as the stillness of the fall morning.

 A piercing cry split the air, slicing through the minimal tranquility I had created. Startled, I jolted to my feet, sloshing hot coffee down my front. The burn bit into my skin, the fabric clinging wet and scalding—but I didn’t have the time.

 My heart pounded against my ribs as I recognized Maddie’s scream. My stomach twisted. Without a second thought, I bolted through the apartment.

 Please, gods, let her be okay.

 In my haste, my foot collided with the solid golden leg of our Victorian coffee table, pain shooting through my toe. 

“Fuck!” I yelped, hopping on one foot before resuming my dash. 

I didn’t have time to care about the throbbing ache. All I could think about was Maddie, of getting to her. Maddie was my best friend, the only person besides my mom that meant anything to me. Who loved me, flaws and all. That sort of loyalty and friendship was hard to find in my small world.

 I was met with mind-boggling chaos when I finally burst into Maddie’s room, panting heavily. Neon lights from her computer gaming equipment flashed wildly, illuminating our favorite fae band poster. At the same time, the soft melody of a Billie Eilish song played in the background. A huge mass of tangled cables caught my eye; it resembled a raging spaghetti monster, consuming all it could beneath her desk. 

But despite the mayhem, Maddie was… dancing?

 My heart still pounded in my chest, but relief swept through me. She was fine. She wasn’t in danger.

Her caramel-colored complexion was flushed with pure joy. She was excitedly jumping up and down on her bed, her oversized T-shirt and shorts flapping comically with each leap. Her brown hair was totally disheveled as it flew around her head, and the vibrant orange hue of her excited aura fluctuated around her. 

“Sierra, you won’t believe this!” she squealed, thrusting her phone toward me like it held the secret to immortality.

 “What the hell, Maddie?” I gasped, annoyed and clutching my side as I tried to catch my breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

 Maddie bounded off the bed and thrust her phone into my hand. “Look! Look! It’s The Immortals! They’re holding a contest!”

 I stared at the overly brightened screen. A video on her phone played an announcement from our favorite band. “Legends Fest. The annual merging of our worlds. The only time mortals and fae can party like rockstars!” My mind struggled to focus on the flashing images, but one thing was clear: the contest was a chance to meet them.

 The Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico had hosted the week-long tradition for a hundred and fifty years. It was the only time our governments allowed us to share food and traditions from our worlds, a necessity, to control the crime, discrimination, and unnatural environmental changes that occurred when too many of us crossed each other’s borders for long periods.

 Even though fae could get passports to travel the portals between realms, it was only for work, and only a few could be approved at a time. I hadn’t been lucky enough to meet any. I always hoped to meet a real fae, but all I ever saw were the heartbreaking news stories—fae refused service, fae arrested for stepping out of line. It was enough to make me wonder if coexistence was a complete myth. Humans on the other hand seemed to be allowed to cross over with a mere good luck which I translated as it’s probably dangerous as hell over there. 

 It was a dream come true for us, but I had the realistic knowledge that we had a slim chance of winning. 

“Mads, I’ve been dying to go for years, too, but you and I both know tickets always sell out within minutes and the contest...” I crossed my arms, “No fucking way.” 

Still, the idea gripped me. I could already imagine it: the deep thrum of music vibrating through my body, the wild energy of the Fae realm seeping into the night, and him. Ronan. The band’s lead singer, with his long ruby red hair and matching piercing red gaze seemed to see straight through to my soul when I stared long enough at his images. My focus shifted to the poster that was taped above Maddie’s gaming area. We had been fans for ten years now, dancing, belting their music in our cars, and watching their music videos on YouTube over and over again. 

“Maybe we’ll get to hook up with one of them!” she squealed as if she had already won. Maddie was always more optimistic than I was.

Her excitement was infectious as I allowed myself to imagine what I’d do to Ronan. What it would be like to meet an actual fae who had fangs, real ones, not something from a costume shop or movie. And yet, as much as the thought excited me, a familiar weight settled in my chest. It always dragged me back into the shadows of my past, the one I’d been running from for years.

 Maddie ignored my logic about our odds and continued to dance and cheer beside me as my gaze flicked back to the video. “Sierra, this is it! I just know it! Can you imagine?” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement.

 Catching her breath, she turned to me with an eager smile. “The only thing is, we've got to use HitUp to enter this contest!” Then, she gave me the look, the one that told me she knew I was going to protest and that I needed to get over myself. 

My smile faltered as I handed Maddie’s phone back. 

HitUp. The latest trend in social media. It’s the only app that connects both realms using magic, as long as you're connected to WI-FI. At least, that’s how it worked for us on our end.

“I don’t know, Maddie.”

 Her face fell, her excitement quickly giving way to annoyance at my hesitation. 

“You’re serious? It’s The fucking Immortals, Sierra! You can’t set aside your weird paranoia about social media for a chance of a lifetime?” she huffed.

She was right. It was everything we’d ever wanted. But still…. 

“Mads, you just don’t get it! You know how I feel, yet you always push my boundaries.”

 Maddie’s face scowled. She knew. She didn’t know it all, but she knew enough to understand my reluctance.

Still, her eyes narrowed on me with determination.

“I get it,” she said. “But just this once can’t you give it a try? For me?”

 I chewed on my bottom lip. My mind was a battlefield between desire and dread. I peered up at Maddie again; a mixture of frustration and yearning was etched on her face. 

Gods, I wish I could tell her why I couldn’t have social media. Then she wouldn’t think of me as some paranoid weirdo. Fuck, I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t want to be on all the social platforms. Not being on them made me feel like I was constantly out of the loop, a freak.

 “I’m sorry, Maddie. I can’t,” I muttered, hating how the words tasted. I hated that I couldn’t make her happy, couldn’t fit in with everyone else. “Maybe you’ll be able to win on your own.”

 Disappointment flickered across her face. 

“Whatever,” she grumbled. 

I hated that nightmares from the past still controlled parts of my life, but I wasn’t sure if I was brave enough to face it yet, or if I was able to be honest with her after keeping it a secret for so long. 

Maddie clutched her phone, looking back at the still-lit screen and flopping into her computer chair. A dismissal, her subtle way of telling me she was pissed at me and completely done with this conversation. I stood there for a moment simply staring at the back of her head, my feet felt rooted in the spot as the tension between us grew. 

Blinking finally, I glanced around Maddie’s disorganized room, my eyes first catching the cluttered dresser near the window, littered with soda cans and stacks of mail. Then, I scanned the dark green walls, collaged with different band posters and images from her favorite video games, before landing on the shelves lined with photos of us, her parents, and the many trophies she had earned from gaming competitions.

This room screamed Maddie, both comforting and overwhelming in equal measure.

Turning to leave, I carefully watched my step, dodging her piles of both clean and dirty laundry.

The weight of it all followed me out of her room, clinging to me like an old, rotten stench, one that refused to fade no matter how many times you tried to scrub it away.

My own room was just down the short hallway. The walls were painted Witchcraft gray—a color I’d found at the home improvement store when I was going through my “hex everything that hurts me” phase. It matched the vibe I was going for: contained, shadowed, a little dramatic.

Similar to Maddie, my surroundings were organized chaos. My laundry basket was filled with clean clothes, while the floor around it was littered with dirty garments. Stacks of mail and sticky-note reminders were scattered across my desk, mixed in with my spiritual literature and ritual journals.

The muscle in my jaw flexed as I made my way to my dark IKEA dresser, which sat beneath my bedroom window.

This was the only spot that remained tidy.

Here, I kept my candles, incense, and my favorite tarot deck. The one Lily, my coworker, had given me on my first day at Oracle’s Alcove five years ago, when I started working as a psychic. My intuition had always been strong, an ability I’d had for as long as I could remember—seeing visions and sensing things others couldn’t. It was something I both loved and hated about myself. Mostly because when I was younger, I struggled more often than not to control when I saw someone’s aura or received a vision.

But now, after years of practice and fine-tuning through self-study, I didn’t drain myself as quickly and learned how to turn it off, in a round about way. It mainly consisted of me channeling my energy inward instead of outward.

Not everyone understood when I told them what I was capable of—or even believed me. For most of my life, I chose not to tell a soul, for obvious reasons: ridicule and isolation. Normal girls didn’t have gifts like I did, and some of the ones who claimed they did were usually liars.

Lily was one of the exceptions. She had a real gift, especially with tea leaf reading. I loved hearing stories of her great-aunt Nona, who claimed to be a shaman from a long-forgotten tribe. Lily believed every word. Her mother, on the other hand, thought she was schizophrenic.

Regardless of what her great-aunt really was, Lily felt a calling to the spiritual realm, and she had a serious gift, one not even I could challenge.

Tugging open the top drawer, I rustled through the terribly folded T-shirts before I snagged a clean black band shirt to replace my now coffee-stained white shirt and grabbed the essentials I needed for work.

Regret settled heavily in my chest as I slowly marched toward the exit of my room.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had let another opportunity slip through my fingers, one that could have changed everything.

When I finally left our apartment for work, each step down the stairs echoed with all the insecurities I knew I was running from. When I reached the sidewalk, my mind drifted back to the memories I’d fought so hard to bury.

Forcing my eyes closed, I took a deep breath before grabbing the cold handle of my car door. Not today, I don't have the mental energy to deal with this. 

***

The chime of the doorbell pulled my attention away from the computer at the checkout counter. I glanced up, forcing a smile as I prepared to greet whoever entered, but my view was partially blocked by the cluttered shelves filled with religious items, candles, and books. That didn’t stop me from offering a warm welcome. Dream catchers swayed gently above my head as the soft hum of the A/C carried through the shop, and large salt lamps cast a warm, golden glow from each corner of the room.

At Oracle’s Alcove, the psychic shop where I worked, I found solace in the quiet atmosphere and the comforting scent of dragon’s blood incense. It was a place where I could tap into my spiritual connection and offer clarity to others even when my life felt like a tangled web of the unknown. 

Today, however, I found my mind wandering back to how Maddie had looked when I told her I couldn’t participate. I was so tired of being a constant wet blanket in our lives, and being distracted like this while I was here made me unsure of how useful I actually could be.

The ache in my jaw started to throb in my temples from how hard I had been clenching it this morning.

“Sierra, you okay?” 

Lily leaned on the counter across from me, straight red bangs casting shadows over her perfectly lined blue-grey eyes. She had a knowing look that was accentuated by her ponytail—one that always made me feel like she saw right through my defenses. 

Her lithe form clad in loose black and tan palazzo pants and khaki tank top rested casually, her deep blue nails shimmering under the overhead lights.

I sighed, setting down the new black and gold embellished zodiac tarot cards I was mindlessly placing price tag stickers on after entering them into our inventory list online.  

“It’s… complicated.”

 Patiently, Lily waited as I explained the contest, the opportunity, and the fear that held me back from using social media. I left out the details of my past, of course. Even Lily didn’t know the full extent of what I’d been through.

 “Sierra,” she said gently. “Sometimes our past holds us back, but it’s also a part of what makes us strong. Facing our fears could be the step to healing. If you truly want to meet The Immortals, perhaps this is a chance to confront your past and embrace the future,” she advised.

 She was right.

And I knew this.

But it still didn’t change my decision. If she knew the whole story, she would have agreed with me about why I couldn’t.

My phone lit up with a text from Maddie, revealing the time. She’ll have to wait. My first appointment would be here any minute, and I needed to get centered to give this reading my all. 

The heavy steps of my feet seemed to echo as I walked to my moderately sized reading room, chewing on my bottom lip and setting up my table like it was all muscle memory. I was hoping my mind would settle before they arrived. Readings never landed right when I was too distracted.

Moments later, the door chimed again, and Lily greeted someone. A muffled conversation ensued, indicating that I should come out.

 When Lily spotted me, she smiled and introduced me warmly.

“Ah, here she is.” Lily gestured toward me with a soft smile. Then she stepped aside, encouraging my client to amble forward. “Sierra, this is your first appointment for today, Tanya.”

 I summoned a broad smile, willing it to convey friendliness despite the strange feeling of unease I was experiencing from this morning’s tiff with Mads.

 With a youthful round face splattered in adorable freckles, Tanya gave me a wary wave. 

“Hi.” 

Her hands nervously tucked her short, straight blonde hair behind her ears, giving me a better view of her bright blue eyes and the way she chewed on her glossy thin pink bottom lip.

I tilted my head to the side, noticing Tanya’s aura shifting from a nervous yellow to a murky, insecure indigo.

 Gesturing casually, “You ready?”

 Tanya dipped her chin, her shoulders tense as she followed me through the beaded curtain into the back room. The soft clink of the beads against one another sounded like distant wind chimes, ushering us into a quieter and more intimate space. 

The air was thick with the earthy scent of sandalwood and jasmine, mixed with a hint of sage from the morning cleansing ritual Lily and I performed when we opened the shop.

I sat down at my reading table, the worn edges of the dark wood smooth beneath my fingertips, covered with a deep purple sheer tablecloth. A soft, amber light flickered from the array of candles around the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls, making the space feel cocooned from the outside world.

This room was one of my safe spaces, especially when I was needing alone time. Moments when I felt overwhelmed by my thoughts or the exhaustion of my over-worked powers became too much, I came in here. 

 My Tarot deck spread neatly in front of me, glinted faintly as the firelight caught the gold accents on the cards—each adorned with a mythical creature from another realm as if they held the secrets of worlds perfectly out of reach.

Tanya’s eyes darted between the mystical symbols hanging on the walls and the delicate strands of crystals swaying gently overhead. Their soft clinking added to the space’s low, meditative hum. She’d never done this before—that much was obvious. And she wasn’t the first new soul to stumble in here seeking clarity.

Everyone who finds Oracle’s Cove is looking for something—answers, direction, or even just tools to help them access their own path through this world.

 Gently, I asked, “Would you like to take a seat?” 

I nodded toward the empty wooden chair across from me.

 Tanya sat down in the slightly worn chair, letting out a soft creak that was almost swallowed by the thick quiet of the room. She smiled tentatively, her lips barely curving upward, as she shifted in her seat.

“Let’s start with any questions you may have for me,” I swallowed, the lump in my throat thick and persistent. “They can be about me and my process or a particular question you would like answered through the deck.”

 Her fingers twisted anxiously around each other in her lap, and I could hear the faint rustle of her clothes as she shifted.

 “You don’t have to worry,” I reassured her, my voice softening. “Anything said here is confidential and meant only to guide you. The answers can change depending on the path you choose tomorrow.” 

Her shoulders dropped slightly, the tension easing only enough to let out a long breath. Seeing her relax made me feel steadier, too.

 Meekly, she confessed, “I came here because I have a crush on a boy at my school.” 

She glanced down, her cheeks reddening, her voice barely above a whisper. “And, well, I was hoping to find out if we’ll end up together.”

I smiled softly, recognizing that innocent hope. The memory of my schoolgirl crushes flickered to life in the back of my mind, and for a second, I felt that familiar, bittersweet tug. I mentally shook it off—now was definitely not the time to analyze my life choices. Or the reasons behind why I always keep men at arm’s length.

“I can’t tell you many details,” reaching for the cards, neatly placed to the left of me. “But what I can tell you will help provide more clarity about the path you’re currently on.” 

Her face lit up, her eyes bright with hopeful expectation, and I couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Can you tell me his name and what he looks like?” My eyes focused on readying the cards in my hands.

 Tanya leaned in a little, her voice quickening with excitement. 

“His name is Aaron. He’s got dark hair and blue eyes, and he’s extremely tall. I just…” Her voice was full of certainty only young love could bring. “I know we’re meant to be together.”

 I exhaled a hum of acknowledgement, the cards cool and smooth beneath my fingers as I shuffled them.

The room grew still, the soft crackle of the candles the only sound. I kept my mind centered on her question, letting the energy settle around me.

 The cards seemed to jump out one by one, eager to give me the answers we both sought. Most were positive, and her excitement was building with each one. 

But then, I pulled the last card. The Ten of Swords. 

The stark final image on the card sent a chill through me, so I kept my face as neutral as possible. 

“This last card suggests that things may not end well,” my voice hesitated, not wanting to alarm her.

Her reaction was immediate. Panic flared in her eyes, and her voice shot up, trembling. 

“What! What does that mean?”

 “May I look at your palm?” I asked, hoping to offer her something more. 

She agreed, stiff and wide-eyed, she pulled her hand from beneath the table. 

Her fingers were cold and damp against mine, which wasn’t surprising given her fluctuating emotional state and blood-hued aura.

 Holding her hand, I closed my eyes, focusing. 

Today, even with all my personal drama, I could feel I had enough channeling power, something that fluctuated wherever I was, specifically in places that our world considered metaphysical or supernatural.

 A vision came into focus, sharp and unsettling. 

I saw her and Aaron arguing. 

She was shoving a phone in his face. 

Then, the foresight shifted to a visualization of a particular text message and the texter's name. 

I opened my eyes to see her sitting on the edge of her seat.

 “Did you see anything?” she asked eagerly, her leg shaking beneath the table.

My hesitant gaze met her wide eyes. “Yes, but if I tell you, it will be upsetting. Would you still like to hear it?”

Immediately, she yanked her hand from mine and insisted, “Yeah! Duh! I need to know! This is my future you’re predicting!”

 Ignoring her rudeness, I checked once more. “Are you absolutely sure? If I tell you, remember that I am only a messenger, and the things I say are suggestive.”

 Leaning forward, brows raised, her voice filled with hysteria, “YES! Tell me!”

 Sighing, I started to describe what I saw. 

Just when I was about to get to the name, a chill ran down my spine. 

Something held me back. 

Whenever this happened, I knew my intuition had a reason, and more times than not, it was spot on.

She pressed me, her eyes narrowing and her red aura turning a dangerously dark shade of burgundy, “Are you sure you didn’t see her name or what she looks like?”

 I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”

 Her eyes flashed with frustration. 

“Great! I thought you were fortune tellers, not doomsday witches!” she snapped, standing abruptly, the wood chair scraping against the floor. 

I winced at the hurtful words she flung at me. She spun on her heels, her blonde hair whipping around her head as she stomped out, leaving a cold presence lingering in her now-empty chair. 

My heart raced from the intensity of the encounter. I closed my eyes, taking deep, measured breaths to steady myself. I already knew that not every reading would be happy—or end in a fairytale. That part was the hardest to come to terms with and one I always took too personally. I could already feel the regret and guilt souring my stomach. Because ultimately, I couldn’t control the future—and I sure as hell wasn’t always one hundred percent sure my readings were accurate. 

 Lily poked her head in, “You okay?” she asked, her voice matching the concern etched on her face. She entered slowly, settling into the now-empty chair; the essential oil she wore of ylang-ylang followed her. 

I looked at her in defeat and sighed. “Yeah, she just wasn’t happy with how the reading unfolded.”

The sound of the beaded curtain still softly swayed in the background, the only evidence of Tanya’s presence. 

***

 By the time I returned home that night, the day's weight felt like a massive boulder on my back, it was equal parts merciless and cumbersome. 

Our apartment's familiar eggplant walls and random décor allowed me to sigh out some of the stress I held onto, though it still didn’t feel like much had been chipped off.

Avoiding Mads when I walked in, I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter, running my fingers through my tangled hair to buy me some time before I had to speak to her. I had this strange feeling that something wasn’t right. 

She was lounging on our black velvet couch, headphones on, and animatedly scrolling through her phone. Her brown eyes met mine as I walked up to her, and for a moment, I couldn’t read her expression. 

 “Maddie?” I murmured.

 She pulled her headphones off and gave me a weak smile, “Hey. You okay?”

 “I wanted to apologize about earlier,” I started, rubbing my hands together nervously. “I know I let you down.” 

Fighting with Mads felt like clutching a hot coal, expecting her to be the one who got burned–painful, pointless, and only hurting me in the end.

 She shook her head quickly, her messy bun wobbling with the movement. “No, as annoying as it is that you refuse to use socials, I know you’re hesitant for your own reasons. I…” 

She paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek  like she was trying to find the right words. “I just want you to live, you know? You’re always hiding.” 

Her words stung because they were true. 

I was always hiding—from my past, myself, and the world. 

Maddie always cared for me or pushed me to do things that were outside my comfort zone. I was grateful for that, even if in the moment it feels like I can’t bear the emotional internal rollercoaster.

“I know,” I whispered. “And I hate it. I hate that I can’t be… normal.” 

Ever since I left the safety of high school and living with my mom, I hadn’t felt safe enough to date much or make new friends.

But I missed it. 

The attention. The validation 

It made me feel normal, wanted, a part of. 

 Eventually, I joined her on the couch. I curled my legs beneath me and pinched the bridge of my nose in silent frustration. 

Fuck. 

If only I could let it all go and not feel like I had to be guarded constantly.

“You are normal, Sierra.” Her voice was gentle but firm. 

“You just need to trust that not everything will hurt you.” 

She sighed, sitting up and mimicking my posture.

“I don’t want you to keep missing out on things that could make you happy. Take some risks, be bold, like you were in high school.” 

Maddie gave me a knowing smile, but I could only return it with a tight-lipped one. My rebellious heart left me the moment I graduated.

Back then, I needed to prove to my mom that I wasn’t a victim anymore, not in the way she constantly reminded me I was, at least. She was still hovering even now, and it’s been eleven years since my final year of high school.

Her words pressed in on a wound I kept close to my heart, and my chest tightened with the realization that she was right. 

How many things had I missed out on because I was too scared? 

How many opportunities had slipped through my fingers because I couldn’t let go of the past? 

My paranoia always made me feel like they were still following me. 

It had an enormous sway on every choice I made.

Every trip I planned.

Every word I said.

Every man I dated.

 I wavered momentarily, my emotions raging within me, causing me to weigh the consequences.

And consequences be damned. 

I’d let my hair down for Maddie; she’s always been there when I needed her, and nothing has happened since I was twelve. 

Making a decision and swallowing hard. 

“Okay, Maddie, I’ll do it. Let’s enter the contest together!” my gut feeling uneasy and exhilarated by the decision.

 Maddie’s joy seeped into me. Her aura, which was a beautiful magenta color, danced around her. 

“Oh, my God! You won’t regret this, I promise.”

What if I do regret this? 

I pushed the thought aside. I needed to allow myself to have this. The decision was made, and fuck, look how happy Maddie looks. My smile widened at her jubilant expression.

Maddie snuggled up next to me, and my worry slowly faded, replaced by a sense of empowerment. 

Perhaps this was fate giving me a beginning of a new chapter in my life, a chance to face my past and embrace the future, as Lily put it. 

I waited apprehensively as the app downloaded on my phone. My hands sweated, and it felt like the circle wouldn’t download fast enough.

 When I finally opened it, and my finger hovered over the “Create Profile” button, Maddie placed a hand on my phone.

Her expression turned hesitant, and she entreatingly said, “Don’t be upset.” 

Dread swept over me as I waited for her to continue. 

“I made a HitUp profile for you when you left for work today.” She winced, bracing herself for my inevitable reaction.

 Hurt flooded me, a bitter taste rising in my throat as I pulled back and stared at Maddie. 

“What the hell, Maddie?” I demanded, my voice tinged with betrayal.

 “I know, I know! I’m sorry,” she said defensively. “I only wanted us to have the best shot at this opportunity.”

 “You crossed a line, Mads,” I growled in distaste.

I had nothing left to say with this storm of resentment flaring to life.

Maddie was always conscious of my boundaries. 

She understood that there was hurt in my past that I was avoiding, secrets that I kept stored in my mind. But Maddie's going behind my back triggered my anger, and once I started down that path, it was hard to stop myself.

 Seething, I stood from the couch, my feet glued to the spot.

I didn’t want to leave. 

Because I wanted to enter the contest, but the other part was fuming from the betrayal.

 “Did I honestly cross a line?” Maddie’s voice was quiet. “Or are you pissed that I nudged you in a direction I knew you wanted to go?”

Her words were a bitter pill to swallow. 

Huffing, my nails bit into my left palm while I squeezed my phone tightly in the other.

I shot Maddie one last glare before storming off to my room and slamming the door behind me.

Pacing back and forth, I flung my phone down on the bed, flopping face-down onto the black comforter. Screaming with frustration, I punched my pillow angrily.

I was a fucking fraud. 

Wasn’t supposed to be reacting out of anger anymore. 

Was a godsdamn healer, a psychic. I was supposed to be a serene, loving guide who gave advice that I took myself. 

Screaming into my pillow one last time before I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. My chest heaved with all the pent-up feelings I hated thinking about. It didn’t matter how logically I looked at them, to try and figure out why they were there or where those feelings came from. It never made them go away.

 Sitting up, I crisscrossed on my mattress and steadied my breathing. 

Eventually, I calmed down and rationalized the situation like I always had. 

Maddie was like my sister, and I knew she wouldn’t do anything to purposefully hurt me. We wouldn't have been friends this long if I thought she didn’t have my best interest. And if I was completely honest, she was my only friend. 

If I lost her, I would be alone…and I didn’t want to think about that. 

With a shaky breath, I reached for my phone.

 Curiosity and the allure of the possibilities HitUp might offer tugged at my resolve. My hands trembled as I entered the passcode Maddie had texted me. I scrolled through the countless profiles of both fae and humans alike. 

It was like stepping into a world I had always dreamed about but never thought I would actually be a part of. The freedom of being involved while still being behind the safety of a screen. My world seemed to grow exponentially, and the possibilities for interactions were endless. 

As much as I knew this could be dangerous, I couldn’t stop myself from scrolling, my eyes scanning profile after profile, each one listing names, locations, and personal details of beings that weren’t merely fantasy, they were real. Some had pointed ears, some didn’t, and I saw their auras were all different shades. 

But the one thing they all had in common was where they lived.

I squinted at the name of the place that appeared on nearly all the bios, my lips moving silently as I sounded it out.

“Elyssium.” 

The name rang a distant bell, something from old history books and news segments about the fae realm. A place that had always felt as far away as the stars, unreachable, untouchable—until now.

Maddie and I will be able to learn more about these beings from this app, if we win those tickets. We’ll be experts by the time we go. I internally crossed my fingers, and prayed to the many gods of fortune.  

 The thought sent a thrill through me, my heart racing with something dangerously close to hopeful excitement.

Tapping on my profile, I scanned through the details Maddie had set up. It was perfect, of course. She had always known me better than I knew myself, always been able to put into words the things I struggled to express.

Even the picture she chose was my favorite. It was from our trip to the Salem Haunted Happenings Festival on Halloween—one of our best vacations and one where my intuition went wild with visions. In the photo, I posed in my Janis Joplin costume with a flowered beanie and flashing peace signs. 

A wave of nostalgia hit me hard, cracking some of my ill feelings towards Maddie.

With a low, settled breath, I plugged my phone into its charger for the night and rolled onto my side, trying to will myself to sleep. But no matter how many times I changed positions, my thoughts kept racing, tangled between the weight of my past and the possibilities of my future.

I didn’t want to keep hiding.

I was sick of it.

With a frustrated sigh, I flipped onto my other side.

There was no way they would find me again.

Right?