Chapter - 13 - The unveiled magic

The moment the sirens disappeared into the sea, Thaliena stepped forward.

No words. No farewell.

Only purpose.

She raised her arms and summoned what the tribe had only heard about in whispered legends—the Black Pearls of Vael'Un, carved from shadows at the bottom of the sea where even Selene's light does not reach. Those Black Pearls, slick and shining, appeared between her fingers and orbited her like moons. One by one, she cast them into the sky... Each pearl burst into streaks of violet light, vanishing into the clouds. Moments later, the jungle above shimmered—the very air humming—until a faint dome of glimmering energy settled over the treetops like a second sky. A magical veil. Unseen to humans, untouchable to dark magic.

"This veil will protect your people," Thaliena said. Her voice echoed like a tide meeting cliff. "No siren can pass. No shadow can slip beneath."

The stars hung lower that night, as if listening.

She swam forward and placed a single grey pearl in Elder Muniya's hand. It glowed softly, warm as memory.

"This is a Wisdom Pearl. It holds spells forgotten even by gods. Learn them. Guard them. Your tribe will need you."

Elder Muniya closed her fingers over it with a trembling breath. "You give this to one who has already lost so much."

"You still have your people," Thaliena replied gently. "And now, you have their future."

At the Moonlit Shore:

By the pale shore, the world slept—except for Tinker Bell.

She sat on a jagged rock, bare feet grazing the tide. Her eyes were locked on the twin crescent moons carved into her wrist.

"Come on," she whispered.

She closed her eyes; chanted words etched into her bones. Spells that once shaped stars, cracked stone, and whispered to gods.

Nothing.

She gritted her teeth. The crescents glowed faintly—mocking her.

"I'm a fairy," she muttered. "I'm not supposed to be this weak."

She tried again.

And again.

Still, nothing.

In frustration, she flung a shell across the water. It skipped twice, then sank.

"Thanks, Selene," she said bitterly. "Really generous of you."

Behind her, Peter stirred.

He gasped—sharp, sudden. His body curled, one hand flying to his chest.

Tinker Bell was at his side before she could think. "Peter?"

His face twisted. He couldn't speak. His skin burned under her touch.

Then she saw it.

The place above his heart—glowing faintly, like light behind skin.

She placed her hand there.

The moment her fingers brushed his bare chest—right over the faint shimmer pulsing like a second heartbeat beneath his skin—Tinker Bell felt it.

A pull.

Not soft. Not hesitant.

Magnetic. Gravitational. Eternal.

Her breath caught.

The crescent moons etched into her wrists—long dormant—began to glow. Silvery light spilled from them, pulsing in rhythm with the mark beneath his skin. Slowly, trembling like it remembered itself, the two crescents merged.

And when they did—

A full moon unfurled from her skin, rising between them like a ghostly halo. It hovered above their heads, spinning slowly, casting soft beams of ancient light across their faces.

Tinker Bell tried to pull away, panicked, unsettled.

But Peter's hand wrapped around her wrist, firm but gentle.

His other hand slid instinctively around her waist, pulling her closer.

Their chests touched.

Her breath hitched again.

His voice was barely a whisper, yet it shook the air between them.

"Don't go."

He looked at her—not with a smirk now, but with fear. With longing.

"Don't leave me, Tink."

She looked up, her brows knit in resistance—but the moment her eyes met his, the anger faltered.

His eyes were glowing.

Golden. Trembling. Tears welled up in them, glittering like sunlit honey.

And her own eyes—once sharp and stormy—flared silvery-white.

As if the moon above them had poured itself directly into her soul.

They stood like that—locked in a moment too heavy for time, too bright for memory.

The air shimmered.

The floating moon expanded, spinning faster, its light surrounding them in a swirling sphere of glowing dust—as if the world had pressed pause and trapped them inside a snow globe made of stars and forgotten love.

Neither of them spoke.

Their mouths were still. But something older, something buried in centuries, remembered.

And then—her lips parted.

A voice echoed from her—not her voice, but hers all the same.

"You demon," she breathed.

"You betrayed me… I gave you, my heart. You were supposed to protect it. Protect me."

Peter's grip trembled. His face crumpled.

"I didn't mean to…" he choked, his golden tears now falling freely.

"I only wanted to keep you safe."

He leaned forward, forehead almost touching hers—

But before he could say more, the full moon above them flickered.

The light cracked. The aura shattered.

A cold breath swept through the trees like a predator waking.

And just like that—the spell broke.

The light vanished.

Their glow dimmed.

The snow globe collapsed.

Tinker Bell staggered back, blinking as if waking from a dream.

Her hand still hovered in the air where it had touched him.

Peter sat up slowly, confused, dazed. His breath was now shallow.

They looked at each other. And though neither remembered what just happened…

Their hearts beat faster.

Their bodies ached with a weight they couldn't name.

The memory was gone.

But the pull between them had never been stronger.

Before Peter or Tinker Bell could understand what had just happened…the growl came—low, primal, ancient.

A wolf stood before them.His eyes burned celestial blue.His form, monstrous.

And they were cornered.