Page 71 of Gift from the Nexus

It’s his room.

It’s Franklin’s torture room.

The sound of metal clanking together draws my attention, and their heavy head lulls to the side. My sight is met with skinny, fair-skinned arms that are covered in bruises and blood and limp hands that ball together repeatedly in fists.

No, no. We’re chained to his wall. I recall so many times staring at these chains that hung against this wall like a never-ending threat. Every time I was strapped to the table, my eyes always found them, but I was never shackled to them.

“Elementra?” a soft voice asks. A voice that isn’t mine, but it fills my heart with warmth and a hunger to know this person burns through me.

“Yes, my girl. It’s time to come home. The second part of your journey starts now. Your Nexus awaits you, and they’re ready,” Elementra says.

With a deep exhale, the girl, woman, leans her head back against the wall. I feel the small thud, then elation fills my body.

“Finally,” she breathes, and I feel my lips, her lips, I guess, stretch into a large smile.

Slowly, she pushes herself up to stand and deep in my chest, I feel the rippling of power start to uncoil itself like it’s been knotted up for years, and now it’s stretching out its limbs. It’s pure, strong, very strong, and seemingly…familiar.

Wait…

This is…

Oh my God. Elementra. This is my mom. You’ve sent me back in time to her.

Another rift of Elementra’s power shudders through me, real me, not my mother’s body that I’m currently inhabiting, and my engrossed feelings settle as she forces me back into the recesses of my mother’s mind.

Observe. That’s all I’m supposed to do right now.

With a small chuckle, my mom grips the chains in her hands for only a second before they disintegrate into nothing. Confusion wars in my mind because I have no clue what is happening right now. Just moments ago, she felt weak, small, but now, she feels like a force of nature about to wreak fucking havoc.

I’m so here for this.

Winds with the strength of a category five hurricane rip through the torture room, slinging everything everywhere. Completely destroying it. Leaving it in nothing but ruin.

Shoving her air at the door, it flies off the hinges and shatters into thousands of pieces. As soon as she steps through the threshold, someone latches onto our arm, but with a quick slash of her hand, their throat’s torn wide open.

I don’t have a second to gawk or be amazed at her abilities before the familiar bright flash of light blinds us, then we’re left standing on four massive silver paws.

She’s the wolf.

When she throws her head back, howling, the entire foundation of the estate quakes and the sound of thundering footsteps pounds throughout the house. Standing in that hall with our tail wagging in the air, head lowered to the ground, fearsome growls fall from our lips.

And we wait…

When they finally approach, they skid to a halt, clearly not expecting to find my mother in full-on wolf form with a seriously vicious grin on her face. Both magicals and nonmagicals alike gather in the hallway, some with elements at the ready, some with guns, but none stand a chance. She rips through them faster than they can gather themselves. Her own elements burst free, circling her shifted form like armor.

She has all four elements.

Minutes pass by as she absolutely annihilates every single person in this estate. Any who gets in her way meets a gruesome demise, and rather than being terrified, I’m in awe of her. There’s nothing weak or fragile about her. She’s everything I want to be. Strong, fearless, courageous.

Coming up the stairs, she pauses, listening to see if there’s anyone left, and after a moment of hearing nothing but the creak beneath her paws, she shifts back into her human form.

Her fingers leave a blood trail across the wall from where she drags them mindlessly over the paint, pictures, everything. My eyes track the path in this well-known hallway. It’s so different, decorated for a time centuries ago, yet I know exactly what hallway she’s on. Nothing’s truly changed. It’s just been modernized to the time as I know it and my breathing becomes labored the closer and closer to my childhood bedroom she gets.

When she slings the door open, for whatever reason, I was prepared to see it how it was the last time I laid my eyes on it, but of course it wouldn’t be set up for that now. Instead, it’s completely empty, until she walks in and stands in the middle of the room and releases a heavy breath.

“I’m sorry, my sweet dragonfly. I’m sorry I won’t be here to protect you.”

What did she just say?

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