Page 127 of Empowering the Wolf's Heart

This time I smiled.

And in that moment, I decided.

I would no longer let life guide me. No longer let it strip me until I was a shell of myself. No longer let it choose for me.

Bad things had come, and I had become them. I had let them define me. But I was not the things I did. I am going to be different.

Forgive me, Source of all Creation and Creator of all. I am so sorry for what I have done to your creation.

A gentle peace guided over me, soothing the jagged pains of my soul. It helped me see the mistake for what it was: a hurting thirteen-year-old boy with too much power. I had chosen wrong then and many, many times since.

But Source and her Father were just, and they gave of themselves so we could be forgiven. Now, I could focus on who I wanted to be, not on the guilt of what had been.

Source help me, life would be different.

I was taking back my power.

I was taking back my choice.

Things would no longer just happen to me. I would make things happen.

First, I would see if Alia would have me. If she would not, I would still become the man I wanted to be. Not for her, but for myself.

Because I was worth the work to be who I wanted, no matter how long it took.

CHAPTER 45

The Moon Flight

ALIA

It was the last night of the full moon. There was a bright orange light in the sky, nearly as bright as the sun itself in the black star-strewn sky.

It was the night of the people’s celebration that we survived another full moon without the werewolves finding us.

“Put them over there, please,” I told Brandt, who glared at me as fairies darted about his shoulders and pulled his hair. He set the buckets of water on the edge of the roof and flicked a fairy off his shoulder. I hid a grin as the tiny being sent Brandt a rude gesture she’d likely learnedfromhim.

I patted Ran on the shoulder. “Ready?” I watched my people down below, spinning and dancing as laughter rose up from them.

Fire from the bonfires danced in the air. Shopkeepers offered food on sticks to cook over the fires.

I was born ready,Ran said, tendrils of smoke billowing out her nostrils.

“Ready?” I asked Jacob. He held a thumbs up from his place beside the dryad. The dryad also held up his thumbs, the ends of them sprouting flowers that he shook off before giving us a shy smile.

“Do it,” I said to the fairies.

They sent up waves of glistening light that bounced to the heavens. It burst into streamers of all pastel colors: lilac, turquoise, sky blue, orange and everything in between. The people below shouted and pointing up at the colors. The ribbons of light intertwined into a ball and then exploded in stars of light.

The people below ducked and shouted, but then they laughed when they realized it wasn’t dangerous. The children chased after the darting stars of light as the adults watched in wonder.

Next, the dryad closed his eyes and set his hand on the roof. A tiny green sapling grew from his hand, then became a tiny run of ivy that raced down the side of the building and slithered beneath the feet of the people.

My Reds had brought a huge water trough up here, which the dryad dipped his other hand in. The water slowly disappeared as a tree began growing in the middle of the square. It grew until it was a bit larger than the pre-existing hedges and bonfires. It sprouted so many apples that it looked more red than green.

The dryad disconnected from the vine leading to the tree, leaning back and putting both hands in the trough.

“It’ll last a few hours at most,” he said, his voice lilting and slow, as if it was laborious to speak.

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