KFrancesca

In the lush forest kingdom of Verdanthe, magic is a crime punishable by death. Pandora, a quiet girl living on the outskirts of the kingdom, is different.

Born with a voice that could weave storms, heal wounds, and hands that could create plant life, Pandora has spent her life in silence, fearing that even a single note or flick of her wrist might expose her. Her father once told her that magic like hers can only end in fire. But when the ruthless king’s hunters arrive in her village, searching for her, she is forced to flee back to her home in the Nyxmaris sea.  

She is one of the last of her kind and the only one who can restore magic to the world. But the more Pandora uncovers about the her origins, the more she realizes that singing might not set her free—it might break the world apart.  

Torn between silence and rebellion, fear and freedom, Pandora must decide: will she keep swallowing the magic inside her, or will she let it finally be heard?  

Perfect for fans of lyrical prose, atmospheric fantasy, and heroines who wield quiet power, The Wild Song She Swallowed is a spellbinding tale of identity, music, and the price of unleashing your true self.

The Wild Song She Swallowed

The word lands heavy between us, cutting off any second thoughts before they can form. He's already moving, rolling up the map with swift precision, tucking it into the leather strap at his side. I barely have time to grab my cloak before he's opening the door, peering into the alley beyond.

"We'll go through the back streets," he murmurs. "Stay close, keep your hood up, and if I tell you to run, you run."

My pulse pounds in my ears as I nod.

The city is different under darkness quieter, but not safer. The market, once alive with chatter and clinking coins, is now shadowed and still. Only the occasional lantern flickers in doorways, casting long fingers of light over the stone streets. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks.

I keep my head down, matching Avis' pace as he weaves through narrow alleys and hidden passages, his movements practiced, deliberate. I wonder how many times he's done this before, how many people like me he's smuggled out of the city, away from the king's reach.

The thought should comfort me. It doesn't.

We pass a pair of guards on the main road, their armor glinting under the moonlight. Avis tugs me into the shadow of a doorway, his arm brushing mine. My breath hitches. I don't dare move.

The guards linger, talking in low voices. I catch snippets of their conversation.

"...a girl, brown hair, white streaks, seen near the eastern stalls…"

My throat tightens. They're looking for me.

Avis shifts ever so slightly, pressing a reassuring hand against my arm. When the guards finally move on, he exhales and pulls me forward.

"We need to go faster," he whispers.

We slip through the city like ghosts, avoiding open spaces, cutting through abandoned courtyards and crumbling side streets. But the deeper we go, the heavier the air feels. A strange stillness settles over the path ahead, too quiet, too empty.

Avis slows. His hand drifts toward the dagger at his hip.

Footsteps. Steady, deliberate. Coming from both ends of the alley.

A figure steps into view from the darkness a man clad in dark armor, a royal crest glinting against his chest. But it's his face that sends ice through my veins.

The king's most loyal enforcer. The man who has hunted my kind for years.

He smiles, slow and cold. "Going somewhere?"

I barely have time to react before the soldiers move in.

Not from footsteps. Not from the weight of approaching soldiers.

A strange energy rises in my chest, a pull deep in my bones. The lanterns around us flicker wildly, the flames stretching toward me like they recognize something in my blood.

Captain Stellaris' eyes narrow. "Well," he murmurs. "Looks like we found our witch."

Escape