**Paige’s POV **
The first time I saw him, we were sixteen. He stood at the back of the classroom, hood up, headphones in, all in black, like the world had done him wrong, and he wanted everyone to know it. Everyone was afraid of him back then. He was the angry one, the troublemaker, the boy with eyes like a storm. Teachers avoided him in class discussions, students whispered about him, and no one dared sit too close, but I remember thinking that none of them really looked. Not the way I did.
Because when he lifted his head, and those eyes met mine for the first time… I saw something entirely different. Beneath all the attitude and the dangerous smirk that didn’t reach his eyes, there was this raw, aching sadness. A quiet kind of loneliness that spoke to me louder than any threat he could have been.
Maybe I was being reckless, but I saw the boy who stayed late after classes to avoid going home. The boy who pretended not to care but always walked me home after dark, keeping just enough distance that no one would notice, but I noticed. The boy who held my hand the day I broke down because my best friend emigrated across the world with her parents, whispering that he didn’t know how to fix things, but he’d stay.
That was the first time my heart skipped a beat for him. Not because he was dangerous, but because he wasn’t. Not really. He just didn’t know how to stop the world from hurting him first.
He still has that effect on me now. I smile as I picture his smirk when he teases me, the way he tucks Jaxon under his arm like he belongs there, the heat of his kiss, the weight of his promises. I fill myself with every reason I love him and push that feeling at him, desperate to fix him with love, because that’s the strongest thing I have.
Tears blur my vision as I lean closer, pressing my forehead to his chest. “Come back to me,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Fight for me, Rye. Fight for Jaxon, for Callen, for what we have.”
A faint pulse flutters against my palms. Weak and fragile, but there.
I hold my breath, waiting for something to happen, but after a few tense beats there’s still nothing.
Frustration bubbles up. “It’s not working,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “I can’t do this. I’m not…”
“Hey.” Poppy’s voice cuts through gently, firm but kind. “Don’t quit yet.”
Parker moves around to my side, taking one of my hands in his. His grip is warm and steady. “You’re overthinking it. This isn’t about power; it’s about connection. You’re fighting to save him, not to prove something. Let it flow.”
Callen’s eyes are locked on me when I look at him. There’s a desperate kind of hope there; it’s obvious he is fully invested in me to be able to pull this off.
Hushed voices come from the corner of the room where Poppy, Jake, Ronnie and Leo are discussing something. A part of me wants to listen in, to know what they’re saying, but a bigger part of me can’t bear to hear it when there’s a chance it is bad news.
As if sensing my attention, all four of the group lift their gazes to me. Ronnie whispers something, and Poppy nods before she comes to my other side and I meet her eyes, and for a moment, I see something there, something I hadn’t noticed before. Not just compassion, but belief.
“Together, Paige,” she says quietly. “We’ll do this together.”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak. She presses her hand over mine, both of us resting our palms against Ryder’s chest. I close my eyes again, this time focusing on the warmth spreading from her skin to mine.
It’s different, like a soft current of static flowing between us.
“Breathe together,” Jake says gently.
We inhale together, exhale together, completely in sync.
“Now,” Poppy whispers.
The air in the room shifts. It’s a subtle hum at first, more static crawling over my skin. My pulse speeds up
as the bond between Ryder and me flickers, brighter this time. I focus on that flicker, pouring everything I have into it… fear, love, fury, hope, desperation.
“Good,” Ronnie murmurs somewhere behind me. “That’s it, Paige. Don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”
The hum builds, soft and low at first, then stronger. My chest burns, but not painfully. It’s heat, energy, something alive. I feel Poppy’s power alongside mine, steadying it, shaping it. Together we pour it into Ryder.
Light blooms behind my eyes. A soft golden glow spreads beneath our palms, faint but real. The same one I’ve seen when Jake uses his healing gift. Gasps ripple through the room, but I barely hear them. All I can feel is Ryder, his heartbeat growing stronger, the warmth returning to him.
As the dark patches along his chest begin to fade, the colour returns slowly to his skin. The beeping on the monitor steadies, climbing higher with every second.
Tears spill down my cheeks as the warmth peaks, a rush that feels like sunlight after years of shadow. I whisper his name like a plea. “Ryder.” His fingers twitch once. Then again.
“Come back,” I whisper. “Please come back to me.”
The light fades gradually, but the warmth stays. The room feels charged, full of something electric and impossible. Poppy pulls her hand away slowly, squeezing mine once before letting go. “You did it,” she murmurs, her eyes full of unshed tears.
Ryder’s breathing evens out, deeper now, steady. The colour in his cheeks is real; it’s not fading, not a trick of the light.
Then, as if pulled by my voice alone, his eyelids flutter. Making my breath catch. “Rye?”
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