Feel her.
Feel her heartbeat as if it’s inside my own chest.
Oh Ancestors.No.
No —no-no.
I stagger back from her, tearing away like I’m ripping off my own limb.
Reverie reached for me, eyes wide and terrified, “Torren—are you—did I hurt you?”
“You can’t—” My voice cracked. “You don’t know what you’vedone.”
She froze. “I marked you?” she whispered.
I can’t answer that. If I do, I won’t leave. And if I don’t go—everything I’ve built, everything I’ve hidden, everything I’ve fought the serum and this curse and myself over will fall apart.
“I can’t stay.” My voice is barely human.
“Torren—”
“I can’t stay with you.” I rasped out.
It was my confession—my punishment.
Her breath trembled. “Why?”
Because I’m dangerous.
Because I’m a lie.
Because I’m losing pieces of myself every day.
Because I want her too much.
Because the bond changes everything.
Because her enemies will know.
Because I will break her.
Because she just made me hers, and she has no idea what that means.
Instead of confessing all of that, I whisper the only truth I can and survive. “You deserve someone whole.”
And I run.
I run before she can stop me. Before her men feel the mark through her veins. Before I lose the small part of myself that still remembers how to walk away from what I want.
I run because I’m already hers. And that isunforgivable.
This time, I don’t look back.
As I push deeper into the tunnels, the burning intensifies—not fading like a Faction mark should, but sharpening and spreading, crawling over my skin like molten metal.
I grit my teeth, rip my sleeve down to expose the mark?—
And freeze. “Oh… Ancestors…”
