As they traveled, Kleo guided Jack through techniques for shaping magic, teaching him to bend it to his will. Though Jack fumbled at first, his skills improved as the day progressed.

  Bitter often ventured ahead, returning with rabbits and small woodland creatures. Jack and Kleo praised his efforts, promising to cook his catches over the campfire. Kleo smiled at the amusing parallel—here she was, training two eager pupils: Jack and Bitter.

  By late afternoon, Jack discovered how to project his mana outward as a focused force. Though he struggled to control its form, producing only uneven spheres, he had mastered enough force by nightfall to push Kleo back several feet, even when braced for impact.

  Kleo had difficulty replicating Jack’s spell. While their dinner roasted, Jack stepped into the role of teacher, patiently guiding her through his technique. Under his direction, Kleo not only grasped the spell but made rapid advances, able to shape her mana into precise, sweeping arcs.

  "Nice," Jack said, impressed. "Now, try it on me."

  Jack stood ready as Kleo weaved her fingers, channeling mana toward his center. Despite her careful control, Jack showed no reaction.

  "Strange," Kleo frowned. "It felt like it worked."

  "No, I think it did," Jack said. "Wait—let’s test this."

  He removed his shirt, holding it out in front of him. "Hit me again."

  Kleo repeated the spell. The force tore the shirt from Jack’s grip, sending it fluttering into his face, yet his body remained unmoved.

  "That's what I thought," he said, pulling his shirt down. "I felt it, but my core absorbed the energy. Must be the Kull magic protecting me."

  Skeptical, Kleo turned and cast the spell at a nearby tree. The targeted branch bent sharply, showering them with leaves.

  "Impressive," she admitted. "It works fine everywhere else. That's a powerful ability. I'm a bit jealous."

  Jack shook his head. "Don’t be—you’re amazing."

  He paused, thoughtful. "One more experiment. Can you spread it like a cone over my whole body?"

  "I can try," Kleo said. "Think it'll matter?"

  "Not sure," Jack admitted with a mischievous look. "I want to test something."

  She shaped the spell into a wide arc and released it. As the wave surged forward, Jack raised his hands, swirling them before thrusting outward. The force rebounded with startling strength, knocking Kleo off her feet.

  "Jack!" she snapped from the ground. "What the fuck? You could've warned me!"

  Jack rushed to her, fighting back laughter.

  "I'm so sorry, Kleo—I wanted to see if I could redirect it. I didn’t think this through."

  Helping her up, he brushed dirt off her, then playfully squeezed her backside.

  "At least you've got natural padding."

  She swatted his hand away, glaring. "Not funny! What if I'd gotten hurt?"

  Jack’s grin vanished, replaced by sincerity. "You're right. I won't do it again."

  After a moment, his eyes twinkled again. "Maybe we can call it even—for that singing-to-fish thing?"

  Kleo's eyes widened in shock. "You figured that out?"

  "Eventually," Jack chuckled. "Every time the Woogs brought it up, they'd start snickering."

  She covered her face, groaning. "I'm sorry, Jack. It was mean—but you must admit, it was hilarious. I laughed so hard I peed a little and almost pulled a muscle trying to hold it in."

  Jack burst into laughter. "It was funny—and now it’s part of my legend, so no harm done."

  Kleo smiled, pulling him into a hug.

  "I love you, Jack. And I really am sorry. Now, let's grab those rabbits before they burn. If we ruin Bitter’s catch, he’ll never hunt for us again."

  As they settled in for the night, Bitter took his place atop a rock overlooking the camp, his watchful eyes sweeping the shadows.

  Snuggled close under the tarp, Jack massaged Kleo's back, still remorseful about knocking her down. She sighed contentedly, accepting his apology as she nestled into his touch.

  "You know how the Woogs call it the Battle of the Dark Witch?" Kleo murmured. "Have I ever told you what I call it in my head?"

  Jack smiled, glancing at her.

  "No, I don't think so. What do you call it?"

  She grinned. "In my head… I call it Fuck That Bitch."

  Jack burst out laughing, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound.

  "Oh, I can see that. Perfect title."

  "Every time I see her face in my mind, I get angry and think, Fuck That Bitch."

  Kleo's voice was sharp, her words carrying equal parts humor and venom.

  Jack's laughter faded into thoughtfulness. "I wish I had those memories. They must be in here somewhere. Maybe one day they'll come back. I hope they do. It feels like part of me is missing—part of us."

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  Kleo shifted to face him, her expression tender.

  "You did good, Jack. I'm so proud of you. It proved beyond any doubt that you'd do anything to protect me. I can't tell you how much that means."

  He pulled her close, pressing kisses to her hair, unable to find words that could match her sentiment. Instead, he held her tightly, letting the steady rhythm of their breaths fill the silence.

  "Jack?"

  "Hmmm?"

  "There's something I haven't told you. Not because I don't trust you," she added. "It's just... strange. I can't quite find the words."

  Jack's curiosity sparked, but he kept his tone gentle. "That's okay. You can tell me whenever you're ready."

  "Could I tell you now?" Kleo's voice wavered. "It feels like a stone inside me. I need to let it out."

  Jack's concern deepened. "Of course. I'm listening."

  "Remember that first night we practiced meditation, building our connection. When you told me about the Goddess and how she helped you find your way back to me?"

  "Yeah," Jack said, his brow furrowing.

  "Well, that night after we fell asleep, something woke me. You and Bitter were still sleeping, and at first, I thought I needed to use the bathroom."

  "And?"

  "I lay there for a while, trying to figure out what had awakened me, and then it happened again."

  "What happened?" His voice grew serious.

  "It was a pulse—slow, like a heartbeat, but not mine. I felt it in my bones. Though faint, almost imperceptible, it was steady. The pulses came minutes apart. It stopped after five or six beats, and eventually, I drifted back to sleep."

  Jack's eyes widened. "That's… strange. Do you think it's the Kadas Shadoom?"

  "No." Kleo shook her head. "It doesn't feel like that. It's... different. Do you think it could be the Goddess?"

  Jack hesitated. "I don't know. Has it happened again?"

  "Every night," Kleo admitted, her voice a whisper. "The same thing. I can't stop thinking about it. Something's calling to me, but I don't know what."

  Jack squeezed her hand, his concern evident. "Kleo, you must be terrified to fall asleep."

  "I am," she said, her voice cracking. "It's not only the pulse—it's the not knowing. What does it mean? Why me?"

  Jack cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.

  "Here's what we'll do—wake me up tonight when it happens. We'll face it together."

  Relief washed over her as she gripped his hand tightly.

  "I'd like that. Thank you, Jack."

  He leaned in and kissed her, long and slow, before pulling her back into his arms. They lay together, the fire crackling softly nearby.

  Jack stared at the canopy, sleep evading him. Was it the Goddess—that presence he'd felt when he was broken, the one who helped him find his way back to Kleo? Though he owed her his gratitude, the thought of her involvement now—or something even more mysterious—left him unsettled.

  As his troubled thoughts churned, exhaustion finally crept in, drawing him into a restless sleep.

  Kleo nudged Jack, and his eyes fluttered open; turning to her with a quiet question. She nodded, lying back down beside him. The tent was silent except for the faint crackle of embers still glowing in their fire pit.

  They waited together, their breaths falling into a rhythm, a subtle stream of chi flowing where their fingers touched. Kleo’s heart pounded with hope and dread, desperate for Jack to feel the pulse, to share this strange burden. She didn’t want to face it alone.

  When the pulse came, she flinched. Jack’s gaze sharpened, searching hers for confirmation. She nodded, but when he shook his head, disappointment darkened his features. He hadn’t felt it. Her heart sank.

  She closed her eyes, willing herself to stay composed. Maybe he would feel the next one.

  Two more pulses came and went. Each time, Jack shook his head. Each time, the sense of isolation deepened, like a cold void expanding within her. Whatever this was—this strange, haunting force—it singled her out. Whether Jack was unable to feel it or it wasn’t meant for him, the result was the same. She was alone.

  Tears slipped from her eyes, unbidden. They traced warm trails down her cheeks, quiet but unstoppable. Jack’s hand tightened around hers, and when she looked at him, she saw his eyes glistening, reflecting her pain. He felt her despair, but he was powerless to bridge the divide. A small sob escaped her, and Jack pulled her closer, his strength a lifeline in her storm.

  Even through the pain, her love for him surged, fierce and unwavering. She knew he would do anything for her, as she would for him. The Dark Witch had proved that beyond all doubt, but Jack showed it every day in the quiet, ordinary moments. His devotion was her anchor, her constant, and their shared strength was a testament to their bond.

  The next pulse came, slow and heavy, reverberating through her like an ancient echo. She let it wash over her, knowing it would return. But for now, she chose to let it go.

  She leaned into Jack, her voice soft. “Thank you. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Not tonight. Try to get some rest.”

  Jack kissed her forehead, his lips warm and comforting, and she lay her head on his chest. She listened to his steady and soothing heartbeat until his breathing deepened and his soft snores returned. When she was sure he was asleep, she rolled over, facing away from him.

  Maybe tomorrow, they would try again. Perhaps tomorrow, he would feel it. Perhaps tomorrow, she wouldn’t be alone in this. That thought clung to her like a fragile hope, and she held onto it as she closed her eyes, letting sleep take her.

  When Kleo awoke, Jack was already tending the fire, warming two oversized cups of water for tea. She had grown fond of morning tea—a habit she'd picked up from the Woogs—savoring how its earthy scent and sharp flavor roused her from sleep.

  The crisp morning air made her pull her cloak tight as she settled by the fire, letting its warmth seep into her bones. Jack glanced at her with a smile that was both gentle and questioning. After last night's events, she could tell he was waiting for her to speak first.

  "It's okay, Jack," she said. "I'm fine. After some tea, I'll be better than ever." Though her smile wavered, betraying her words, he did not notice.

  "Tea should be ready soon," Jack said, poking the embers. "And while someone"—he pointed at Bitter, who feigned innocence on his perch—" helped himself to most of our leftovers, we still have enough for a decent meal."

  Kleo chuckled, but her thoughts drifted elsewhere. They ate in silence, unspoken words hanging heavy between them. Though she'd promised to talk about the strange pulse, her mind kept wandering to their next destination—the small abbey marked on Chief Barry's map. Despite knowing little about it, something about the place filled her with an inexplicable unease.

  Jack broke the silence. "So, I've been thinking about the heartbeat thing."

  She tilted her head, waiting for him to continue.

  "Well," he began, fidgeting with his cup, "you said it feels like a heartbeat, and since you're the only one who can feel it... I was wondering if maybe... you might be..."

  Kleo blinked at him, and then realization dawned. "Oh, Goddess, no, Jack. I'm not pregnant."

  Her tone came out sharper than intended, and she immediately regretted it. Jack's expression flickered—perhaps with disappointment—but it passed too quickly to tell.

  "I just thought, with how it feels inside you and all..." He shrugged and took a long sip of tea, hiding his discomfort.

  "I understand," she said, her voice gentler now. "But no, I'm not pregnant."

  Jack nodded, turning his gaze back to the fire. "Well, I thought it might explain...you know."

  A small smile tugged at her lips. "Hopefully, it's something we'll experience together...in the future. Right now, life has other plans for us."

  His smile returned, warm and easy. "It would seem so."

  The thought of having a child with Jack filled her heart with a quiet joy. But not now. Not yet. She had spoken those words to reassure him, knowing his tendency to brood over mysteries. For now, they needed to focus on the path ahead—toward the abbey and the unsettling feelings it stirred within her.

  "Okay, Jack," she said, brushing aside her thoughts. A sly smile played across her face. "Are we ready to get moving, or would you rather take me back to bed?"

  Jack arched an eyebrow, matching her playful tone. "We should get moving."

  Feigning disappointment, she pouted. "Fine. I'll start packing."

  As she turned to gather her things, Jack stood, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he tugged at the laces of his trousers.

  "Last one undressed has to do all the work."

  Kleo spun around, eyes widening, before breaking into laughter.

  "Oh, you're on."

  They raced beneath the canopy, jostling and laughing as they hurriedly shed their clothes, each determined to avoid being saddled with chores.

  Bitter, unimpressed, huffed and returned to his perch on the rock, content to keep watch over his foolish humans.