Fated to a human

JC POV  

I don't know how long it's been, but it feels like forever waiting outside the waterfall for Klinton. 

Sitting on a cold rock, my eyes burn as I stare at the rushing water, hoping he'll emerge soon—with Haylie—and that this madness will finally end. 

I miss Haylie. Her voice, her laughter, her presence—everything about her. I'd do anything to be with her now, back in that house. 

The mornings we shared around the wooden kitchen table are precious memories I cling to. Evenings by the fireplace, drinking hot cocoa, were moments I'll never forget. There were times when I wanted so desperately to kiss her, but I held back. I was too much of a fool, afraid of scaring her even more. 

After all, I had kidnapped her. To make a move would have been wrong. 

The thought of her returning to Liam haunts me. I can't bear the idea of standing between them. No matter how much I love her, I want Haylie to choose who she truly wants to be with. I refuse to be the cause of her pain. 

But that's all in the past now. She's gone, and my only hope lies with Klinton bringing her back. 

I run a hand through my hair, take a deep breath, and close my eyes for a moment. I have to believe. I have to have faith. Klinton will return when he's ready—with her. 

Haylie POV  

As fast as I could, I ran, but somehow Mathew beat me to it. Not that he could see me—I was invisible. 

I rushed through the trees, my human legs carrying me as quickly as they could. The sound of wolves snarling filled the air, followed by a sickening thud as someone fell. 

When I finally reached the scene, I skidded to a halt, my heart sinking. I was too late. 

Out of breath, my chest rising and falling heavily, I took in the horrific sight. My mother lay lifeless on the ground. Blood pooled around her head, oozing from a deep wound where she must have struck a jagged rock. 

"Mom," I called out, my voice trembling as I rushed to her side. I didn't care if no one could hear me—my mother, my own flesh and blood, was lying there, motionless. 

Mathew knelt beside her, sobbing uncontrollably as he cradled her limp body. His tears soaked into her hair as he pulled her closer, refusing to let go. 

My gaze stayed fixed on her pale, still face. A tremor started in my body, and I felt my knees weaken beneath me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I collapsed into uncontrollable sobs, the terror of the scene breaking me apart. 

My vision blurred as I watched Mathew clutching my mother's lifeless body against him. Through his tears, he said, "I won't give up on you. Hold on to me, Olivia." 

Blood streamed down her head, but Mathew didn't care. He stood, scooping her into his arms and holding her tightly against his chest before taking off with her. 

The scene triggered a flood of memories—the night my mother died. I could suddenly remember it all. I had been at home, asleep, when my aunt woke me up, her voice trembling as she told me I had to go with her. 

I sobbed at the memory. That night had changed everything. My aunt had told me my mother was gone, and I refused to believe her. I screamed, cried, and clung to Mathew as he held me tightly, trying to shield me from the pain. 

Now, sitting here, the rawness of that grief hit me all over again, as sharp and unbearable as it was back then. My heart felt like it was being torn from my chest. The crushing loneliness of losing both my parents overwhelmed me. I had no one. I was alone in the world. 

The weight of the memory consumed me, leaving me sobbing uncontrollably, my face buried in my hands. 

"Haylie," I heard someone say through the haze of my grief. Their voice was soft but steady. 

I was too weak to respond, my body trembling as waves of sobs escaped me. "Haylie is okay," they said again. 

The words made me lift my head slightly. Wiping my tear-streaked face with my upper arm, I sniffled and tried to pull myself together. My nose was a mess, fluid running down my face as I wiped at it. 

Then I felt it—something warm on my shoulder. I froze and turned to look, my eyes widening in disbelief as I saw a hand resting there. 

My breath hitched. I thought I was invisible. No one was supposed to see me. 

I turned my body fully, looking up at the person standing before me. A tall young man with broad shoulders, sun-kissed skin, and shoulder-length brown hair stared down at me. He wore a white casual shirt and cream-colored pants, his eyes deep and steady. 

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice trembling. 

My eyes stayed fixed on the tall young man standing before me. "You can see me?" I asked aloud, the realization hitting me—I was probably no longer invisible. 

The man knelt before me, his brown eyes unwavering. "Haylie, your friend JC sent me," he said calmly. 

My breath caught in my chest. "JC sent you?" I repeated, stunned. "How is he? Where is he?" 

Shifting my numb body, I tried to stand, but my legs felt heavy and weak. The young man rise before me than extended his hand toward me. "Let me help you," he offered gently. 

I hesitated before placing my hand in his, and he lifted me to my feet with ease. My legs wobbled beneath me, barely able to support me. "JC is fine," the man said, his voice steady. "It's you we're worried about." 

My gaze snapped to him, confusion and worry swirling within me. "Who are you? Why am I here?" I demanded. 

The man's expression softened as he replied, "My name is Klinton. I am a spirit wolf, and you are in the spirit world—trapped." 

My eyes widened, and my hand instinctively drifted to my mouth. "What do you mean I'm in the spirit world?" 

Klinton's gaze held mine, his tone gentle yet firm. "You've been dead since yesterday, Haylie. You're stuck in a loop of your memories and past." 

Shock coursed through me as his words sank in. The memories, the vivid scenes from my life—it all started to make sense. My body trembled, and I struggled to steady myself. "I'm... dead?" I whispered, glancing around at the trees and the forest surrounding us. "Is this heaven or hell?" 

Klinton shook his head, his expression calm but serious. "No, this is neither. This is your own mind, replaying the life you lived before you died," he explained. 

Tears welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. My legs threatened to buckle, but I forced myself to stand upright, clinging to the little strength I had left. 

"Haylie," Klinton continued, his voice steady but insistent, "I need you to get out of this memory loop. You have to find the door out of this memory." 

I frowned, confusion clouding my thoughts. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice trembling. 

"Every memory has a door to the next one," he explained. "The sooner you move through your memories, the sooner you can escape this loop and return to the spirit world." 

It was confusing as hell. If I'd known this before, I might have spared myself the agony of reliving my past. I looked around at the trees, their shadows stretching endlessly around me. "How can there be a door in every memory?" I asked, my voice tinged with frustration as I tried to make sense of the situation. All I could see were trees, their towering forms enclosing me in this surreal world. 

"Look for something out of place, something that doesn't belong here," Klinton said, his voice calm yet firm. 

I wiped the lingering tears from my face and began scanning the area. My gaze swept over the trees and the forest floor, searching for anything unusual. "Where are you?" I murmured under my breath as I turned, desperate to find whatever he meant. 

Then I saw it—a log lying on the ground. At first glance, it seemed ordinary, but upon closer inspection, I noticed something strange: a wooden doorknob protruding from its surface. It looked bizarre, almost as if it were trying to disguise itself. 

"I found it!" I shouted, my heart racing as I rushed toward it. Reaching out, I hesitated for a moment before wrapping my fingers around the doorknob. To my surprise, it felt solid and real in my hand. 

My eyes sparkled with newfound hope as I glanced back at Klinton. "I think this is it!" I exclaimed, excitement trembling in my voice. 

"Try to open it," he urged. 

I nodded, turning the doorknob. It moved easily, and as the door creaked open, a blinding light spilled out, illuminating the forest in its brilliance. The light was so intense that I had to shield my eyes. 

"Go into it, Haylie," Klinton called out, his voice steady but urgent. 

The brightness was almost overwhelming, but I didn't hesitate. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and entered the door, letting the light engulf me entirely.