Split POV – Andrew / Jamie
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Dear reader, to bring this scene fully to life, I'll be shifting between two points of view—Andrew's, deep within the cave, and Jamie's, navigating the other world. It's the only way to show you how everything is unfolding on both sides impacts the Torch and what that means for everything that follows.
Thanks for reading this far.
ANDREW POV
The torch at Jamie's feet burned blue. Its flame was soft, almost too quiet to trust—but it burned, and that was something.
The scent of Pine drifted with the smoke, wild and warm like him. Still here. Still fighting.
The witch knelt beside him, her fingers brushing the dirt as she placed the torch with care. "The flame is a tether," she said. "It marks his presence in this realm. If it dies... we've lost him."
Lost him.
The words struck like claws through my chest.
As if she had read the storm inside me, she added, "The trial has begun. May the Moon carry his spirit true... and the Bond guide him home."
I dropped to my knees beside Jamie, unable to touch him, only watch. He looked peaceful, too peaceful—his chest rising and falling in slow motion, like each breath cost him more than the last.
I closed my eyes, whispered, "Jamie... my baby... please come back to me."
And the flame flickered.
*******
JAMIE'S POV
It was like waking up into a dream you never wanted to leave.
The world here was colour and light. Roses bloomed in spirals across a glowing field. Trees shimmered with silver leaves. The air smelled of stardust and something familiar, like the ocean after a summer storm.
For a moment, I wished Andrew were here to see this with me. I wished he could walk barefoot beside me through these skies of lilac and gold.
But I was alone... or so I thought.
Movement caught the edge of my vision.
A white wolf—massive, majestic—bounded toward me like a dog greeting its long-lost owner. My laughter spilled out, sharp and boyish. The wolf nuzzled my side, licked my face, its weight nearly toppling me.
"Hey, hey," I laughed, arms around its thick fur. "You missed me, huh?"
It reminded me so much of Andrew's wolf... by the lake... so gentle with me.
We stayed like that, tangled in joy, until a voice echoed softly behind me.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
I turned, heart thudding in my chest. A figure stepped through the light.
No... not just a figure.
"Mom?" I said, breathless.
She was radiant—florals woven into her hair, light dancing on her skin. She opened her arms. "My beautiful boy."
I ran to her, buried myself in her warmth like I had as a child. "I missed you," I whispered.
"Oh, baby," she said, cradling my face. "I've missed you more."
We sat in the grass, the wolf resting its head on my lap. She told me where I was—this place beyond the veil, known as Elarion, the Realm of Becoming.
"Here, you'll face four trials," she said. "Fear. Truth. Acceptance and Spirit. Only then will your wolf return. Only then will you be whole again."
"But why me?" I asked. "Why do I have to prove myself? I never chose this. I didn't choose to be... this."
She smiled, tracing the ring on my finger. "Because destiny doesn't wait for permission. It finds those who can bear it."
Her lips pressed to my forehead. "The wolf will guide you. And I'll be watching, all the way."
"No—don't go," I cried, gripping her hand.
But she was already fading, her voice the last thing I had left.
"I'm with you, all the way, my boy. All the way."
******
ANDREW POV
The flame—gone.
One minute, it was flickering. The next, darkness.
I surged forward. "Jamie?!"
Alpha Jackson's hand locked around my shoulder. "Hold."
I shook him off. "You want me to stand here while the torch dies?! He's in there!"
"The trial has begun," said the witch again, but her voice was strained. "If he fails, the flame will not return. But if he endures... we will know."
My chest was caving in.
JAMIE POV
Elarion had changed.
The golden skies had dimmed into deep navy. A bridge of bone-white stone stretched before me, arching into an endless chasm. Below, only void.
Three doors rose before me. Each was marked with strange symbols that pulsed faintly in the dark.
The white wolf stood beside me now, tail low but steady.
"Well," I murmured, "I guess it's just you and me, buddy."
He wagged his tail, then bounded toward the first door.
My feet followed.
The first trial awaited.
*******
ANDREW POV
The silence in the cave was unbearable.
Then—
FWOOM.
The flame burst back to life. Blue and wild.
I gasped.
He was still fighting.
"Come back to me," I whispered again.
"Come back home."
******
The First Trial: FEAR
Jamie's POV –
The door groaned open on its own, ancient and bone-white.
A rush of cold wind met me as I stepped through, like walking into the hollow chest of something long dead.
The wolf padded beside me, silent and alert.
The moment I passed the threshold, everything changed.
The stone beneath my feet vanished. The sky above turned black, void of stars, void of light. I was standing on nothing.
No, not standing.
Falling.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream.
The world around me twisted into darkness, then shape, vague and shifting.
I knew this place. My nightmares had brought me here before.
Only now it was worse, clearer. The fear wasn't just around me... it was inside me.
Then I heard the voices.
"You're not enough."
"A cursed bond."
"He deserves better than you."
"You're a burden. Broken."
They came from nowhere, but they came in voices I knew.
Andrew's voice. My father's. Strangers'. Mine.
The shadows around me moved—reaching, whispering, clawing. And every fear I had ever hidden away rose before me like a tidal wave of ice and teeth.
I saw Andrew—his face stone cold—turning away from me.
"You're not my mate," he said in the dream. "You were just… a mistake."
I dropped to my knees. "No, no—"
The wolf didn't move. It just stood a few feet away, staring at me with golden eyes.
Like it was waiting.
"Why aren't you helping me?!" I shouted at it. "Do something!"
But still it stared. Still, it waited.
The shadows grew louder.
"Give up."
"You don't deserve to live."
"Just let go."
My chest ached. The ring on my finger felt like it was burning.
I wanted to scream. To disappear. I wanted to let go.
And yet—somewhere, deep inside me—something resisted.
A spark. A name. Andrew.
His voice came not from the shadows, but from my memory.
"Jamie, my baby, please come back to me."
I pressed a hand over my heart.
I remembered how he looked at me the day he said he loved me. How it felt. How real it was.
That was the truth. Not this.
I forced myself to stand. The shadows screamed louder. I took a step forward, then another.
Each step made the voices weaker. The air is lighter.
"No," I said. "You don't get to define me anymore."
The white wolf moved then, trotting toward me, brushing against my leg with something like pride.
The shadows roared one last time—
Then shattered into light.
******
ANDREW POV
The torch sputtered.
I stood so still it hurt to breathe. The flame twisted. Danced. Then, for a single heartbeat, it vanished.
I nearly collapsed.
But then—fwoom—it surged again, bigger than before.
He'd passed something. Faced something.
I whispered, "Atta boy…"
The Second Trial: TRUTH
Jamie's POV
The next space wasn't a space at all.
One moment, I was with the wolf, basking in the light that broke the fear. Next, I was back in my childhood bedroom… but not really.
Something was wrong.
Everything was exactly as I remembered it—my old bookshelf, the peeling wolf stickers on the wall, the chest at the foot of the bed—but the colours were muted, like someone had drained the life from the room. There was no warmth. No breath.
The white wolf sat by the door, unmoving, as I walked in.
Then I saw him.
My father.
Grigor Finn stood in the centre of the room, dressed in the ceremonial robes he wore before the war. Except—he was translucent. Not a ghost. Not a memory. Something in between.
"Dad…?"
He didn't speak at first. He just looked at me.
Then, slowly: "Do you know who you are, Jamie?"
I flinched. "—I'm your son. Sarah's son. Andrew's—"
"No." His voice held no anger, just quiet weight. "You are more than that. Or less. That's what we're here to find out."
I felt cold. "What does that mean?"
He stepped forward. "You carry our blood. Our legacy. But also our mistakes. You must decide which of those you'll keep—and which you'll finally release."
Suddenly, the room warped. Like time twisted itself sideways.
I stood at the Council Hall again, but I was young. Seven. Shaking. Being pulled away from my mother's body after she died in front of me. The same awful day.
Only this time… I saw myself. Watching.
I watched myself cry. Rage. Scream that I hated my father for not saving her.
Then I heard my voice whisper beside me: "If I had just been stronger… she'd still be alive."
The guilt hit me like a storm.
All this time, I'd blamed everyone. The Council. My dad. The war. But deep down, I blamed myself.
I dropped to my knees.
"I couldn't save her…" I whispered. "I wasn't strong enough…"
My father knelt beside me. "You were a child. And you were never meant to carry her death."
"But—"
"You must let the guilt go, Jamie. This is your trial of truth. And the truth is: it was never your fault."
I looked at him, my vision blurred with tears. And when I blinked… he was gone.
So was the room.
I was back in the cave of the spirit realm, the wolf beside me again. Silent, steady.
I closed my eyes and exhaled—for the first time in years, truly letting go.
*******
ANDREW POV
The torch flickered again, violently this time.
Everyone in the cave stilled. Even the Elders shifted uneasily.
"Something's wrong," I muttered. "Something's wrong."
But then, blue flames burst like a pulse from the base, soaring almost to the ceiling. For one terrifying second, I thought he was gone.
But the fire settled. Strong. Glowing. Steady.
He was still fighting.
I swear I heard my heart restart.