My girlfriend is trapped in my superpower

The whisper hadn't stopped. Even now, as the wagon jolted over uneven dirt roads, it brushed against my thoughts like icy fingers tracing my mind.

Set me free.

Not loud, not urgent—just constant.

"It's creepy," Lyra said. "I like it."

"I don't," I muttered.

Bram glanced back from the driver's bench. "Talking to yourself again?"

"No," I said too fast.

"Yes," Lyra added cheerfully.

Lucien sat across from me, one hand resting protectively on the wooden chest. I could feel it—feel it—throbbing like a heartbeat in sync with my own. Every bump in the road seemed to make it stronger.

"Where exactly are we taking this thing?" I asked casually.

Lucien's smile was thin. "To a secure location."

"That's… vague."

"It's meant to be."

The silence after that stretched for a while. Then Bram broke it. "So, what's in the box? Evil spirit? Haunted jewel? Your mother's recipe book?"

Lucien's jaw tightened. "It's not a game."

"Everything's a game," Bram said. "Some are just bloodier than others."

Mira, sitting beside me, leaned in. "Whatever it is, keep your distance, rookie. People get killed for less than looking at things like that."

"Oh, she's worried about you," Lyra teased.

I tried to focus on the horizon, but the whisper pulsed again.

You're mine.

The road wound through dense woodland, branches tangling overhead like bony fingers. The shadows here were heavier, muffling sound except for the creak of the wagon wheels and the occasional snort from the horses.

But every so often, I caught a second set of noises—footsteps where there shouldn't be any, leaves shifting without wind.

"We're being followed," Lyra murmured. "About… six of them. They're good, but not that good."

I swallowed. "Uh, Mira?"

She didn't turn her head. "I know. Don't look back. Let them think we haven't noticed."

Lucien stiffened. "Followed? By who?"

Bram smirked. "Could be bandits, could be assassins. Could be a travelling choir. Wanna take bets?"

The whisper in my head grew stronger the further we went.

I can help you.

I clenched my fists. "I don't need help."

"Talking to me?" Lyra asked.

"No."

Lucien glanced at me like I'd just grown another head. "You've been… twitchy since the ambush. Something you want to share, boy?"

I opened my mouth to deny it, but the chest gave off a faint shimmer—light so quick I thought I'd imagined it. Except I hadn't. It happened again when the wagon jolted over a rock. The pulse, the shimmer—then my magic stirred without me willing it to. A thin thread of light danced between my fingers, sparking and snapping like it wanted out.

"Oh," Lyra said with a grin in her voice. "It's calling to you."

I shoved my hands into my lap. "Not interested."

You will be, the whisper promised.

The first arrow whistled past Bram's head, thunking into the driver's bench.

"Guess they're not a choir," he said, yanking the reins to swerve the wagon off the road.

Lucien slammed the chest shut, eyes wide. "Keep them away from this!"

Mira was already moving, leaping from the wagon with her blade flashing. She deflected another arrow mid-flight, the metal ringing like a bell.

"Kael!" she barked. "Stay with the chest!"

Three masked figures burst from the treeline on the left, another three on the right. They weren't sloppy like the earlier bandits—these moved in perfect formation, blades curved and gleaming.

"These are professionals," Lyra said, her tone low and serious. "And… one of them's carrying a null-field charm."

"A what?" I asked, stepping down from the wagon.

"It cancels magic, genius. If they get close enough, you're just a boy with bad hair."

One attacker lunged at Lucien. I threw up a barrier, but the air around my hand fizzled, like something was draining it. The man's charm—a glowing talisman around his neck—was eating my magic alive.

"Told you," Lyra sang.

"Little busy here!" I growled, sidestepping as his blade sliced the air where my ribs had been a moment ago.

Bram charged into two enemies at once, his axe swinging like he was chopping firewood. "Come on, rook! Show us what that weird sparkle of yours can do!"

The whisper surged inside my skull.

Let me in.

It was louder now, desperate, almost giddy.

I can make them bleed for you.

The fight was turning ugly fast. Mira was holding her ground against two masked attackers, but they were forcing her back toward the wagon. Lucien had planted himself beside the chest, firing precise bursts of magic—but every time he got too close to the guy with the null-field charm, his spells fizzled.

Bram was laughing like a madman, swinging his axe in brutal arcs, but even he was starting to slow. And me? I was dancing backward, narrowly avoiding a curved blade that kept finding my throat. My magic sputtered each time I tried to form a shield.

Let me in, the voice insisted. This time it wasn't a whisper—it was a command.

"Don't," Lyra warned, floating beside me. "That thing isn't giving you power. It's taking it—and when it's done, you'll be the one in the box."

I can make you faster. Stronger. Deadlier.

I hesitated, ducking another slash. "And if I say yes?"

The voice purred.

Then we win.

A blade slipped past my guard, slicing my forearm. Pain flared, hot and sharp. That was it—the last bit of hesitation burned away with the sting.

"Fine," I hissed under my breath. "Do it."

The world snapped into brutal clarity. My heartbeat slammed in my ears, my muscles surging like molten metal had been poured into them. The man's next swing? I saw it coming before he even moved.

I stepped inside his guard, caught his wrist, and wrenched. The sword clattered to the dirt. I kicked him in the chest, sending him skidding back into a tree so hard the bark cracked.

"Oh," Lyra breathed, her voice tinged with something between awe and worry. "You're not just faster. You're meaner."

The others noticed too—Mira shot me a glance mid-swing, her eyes sharp. Lucien's gaze flicked between me and the chest like he was doing math in his head. The masked men hesitated, regrouping. The one with the null-field charm stepped forward.

"You're not supposed to have that kind of control," he said, his voice low and rough.

I tilted my head. "Guess I didn't get the memo."

The null-field guy lunged. This time, instead of retreating, I moved toward him. His blade came in a clean, diagonal arc—I sidestepped, caught his forearm, and twisted hard enough to hear the satisfying pop of his shoulder giving way. The talisman around his neck swung in front of me.

Without thinking, I grabbed it. The moment my fingers closed on the charm, heat seared my palm—magic clashing with whatever dark thing now coiled inside me. I didn't let go. The talisman cracked in two.

It was like a weight lifting from my chest. My magic roared back, surging up my arms in streams of light. The rest of the attackers tried to break formation, but Bram and Mira pounced.

"Going somewhere?" Bram growled, hooking one man with the flat of his axe and tossing him into another like a sack of grain.

Mira danced between the last two, her sword carving clean lines of silver through the air. They didn't last long. Lucien didn't even move from his spot by the chest—just flicked his fingers once, sending a spear of blue energy through the knee of the last man standing. He collapsed with a strangled cry.

Silence crashed over the clearing, broken only by the heavy breathing of our group and the groans of the few enemies still conscious.

Mira straightened, blade dripping. "They weren't here for coin."

"No," Lucien said, finally stepping forward. His eyes locked on me, cold and calculating. "They were here for him."

Every gaze shifted to me.

I swallowed. "Uh… why?"

Lyra hovered closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because, Kael… they know what's inside you now."

I took a step toward the man Lucien had pinned to the ground with his magic. His mask was cracked from Bram's earlier blow, revealing half a face—scarred, eyes wild. He spat blood at my boots and grinned.

"You think this was an ambush?" His voice was hoarse, but his tone dripped with certainty. "This was a test."

A chill slid down my spine. "Test for what?"

"To see if you'd use it." His gaze flicked to my hand, still faintly glowing from the power I'd unleashed. "Now they'll come. All of them."

Lucien crouched, his face unreadable. "Who's they?"

The man chuckled, a low, broken sound that made my stomach knot.

"The ones who own your pet power. And they want it back… even if they have to cut you open to get it."

His eyes rolled back. He went limp.

No one moved for a long beat. Even Bram—usually the loudest voice—just stared at me like I'd suddenly sprouted horns. Lyra floated down to my shoulder, her tone uncharacteristically quiet.

"Congratulations, Kael. You've just painted the biggest target in the kingdom on your back."