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 jungle hums with life, the air thick with salt and the whisper of unseen forces. The voice that welcomed me still lingers in my mind, curling around my thoughts like the mist curling through the trees.

"Welcome home, child of the sea and forest."

Avis steps closer, his hand never straying far from his blade. "Pandora," he murmurs, his voice edged with warning. "Whoever, or whatever that was, they knew your name."

The leaves ahead of us shift, parting without a breeze, and the presence I felt before grows stronger. It's not just the island that's alive. Something is coming.

Then, from the shadows, she emerges.

A woman steps forward, her skin the color of the deep ocean at twilight, shimmering with iridescent hues when the light catches it. Her hair long, white, and braided with strands of pearl cascades over her shoulders like flowing water. Her eyes, an impossible shade of pink, reflect the coral reef deep below the surface of the sea.

I don't move. Neither does Avis.

The woman tilts her head, studying me with an unreadable expression. Then, finally, she spoke.

"It has been a long time, Pandora."

A sharp pain lances through my skull. I clutch my head, gasping as fragmented memories try to surface flashes of water, laughter like a melody, hands pulling me through the currents.

The woman watches me patiently, as if she knows.

Avis steps between us, one hand gripping the hilt of his dagger. "Who are you?"

The stranger barely acknowledges him. Her gaze remains locked on me.

"I am Ilayda," she says. "A guardian of the Vaeloran tides. And you, Pandora… are one of us."

The ground tilts beneath me. "One of you?" My voice is barely more than a whisper.

Ilayda steps closer, her movements fluid, like waves shifting over sand. "You were born of the sea and the forest. The last daughter of the tides and the earth." Her coral pink eyes darken. "But you were taken from us."

Something in her expression flickers pain, regret, something else I can't name. "You do not remember," they say softly. "But you will."

Avis tenses beside me. "What do you mean taken?"

Ilayda's gaze shifts to him, studying him as if weighing how much to reveal. Then she turns back to me, reaching out her hand.

"If you wish to remember who you are, you must come with me."

I stare at their outstretched palm, my pulse thrumming like the rhythm of the waves.

A choice stands before me, as deep and vast as the sea itself.

And somehow, I know if I take that hand, nothing will ever be the same.

The Voice of the Tides