I’m not scared of letting Andrik in. I’m afraid of what I’ll do when he isn't enough to fill this endless void inside me.
And yet...
There’s this piece of me screaming, so loud I can’t ignore it:don’t run from him. He’s the only thing you’ve never had to guard yourself from.
That incessant sensation of home I can’t explain.
My eyes don’t move from the window, even when I catch him in my periphery—crouching down in front of me.
The sky changes from crystal clear to dusk before his second knee even touches the floor.
The trees start to sway like they’re panicking.
I don’t turn toward him. I know the second I do, I’ll either break down or say something I can’t take back.
My brain is screaming: Run.Run before it feels good again.Before you mistake this for safety.
He inhales deeply. “Lumi, we need to talk.”
I can’t help it, my lip curls back in a quiet sneer.I don’t want to talk. I want to be left alone. I want my sister back. I want dead men to stop haunting me.
“I don't think we have anything to talk about right now.” My voice comes out even colder than I mean it to.
The hitch in his breath tells me that it landed.
“I think maybe I should go to the cops,” I say, almost daring him to argue. “I should tell them about the stalking. How I think it’s connected to Anna’s case. The flowers. Her scarf. All of it.”
“Did they do anything last time?” He snaps, more on edge than usual. “I don’t want you leaving this cabin.”
I know he’s saying it from a place of concern. But God does it hit me wrong.
“If I want to leave, I will,” I interject.
“You won’t.”
Andrik-
Her words land like a bomb. “If I want to leave, I will.”
The frost beneath my skin shifts. It’s barely a sound—just a hairline crack— but the forest hears it.
The trees go still. The snow stills mid-air. The animals fall silent.
Every part of the forest that answers to me…heels.
She won’t even look at me. Her gaze stays fixed on the window like she can slip through and vanish.
The bond claws at me, feral and unrelenting. It doesn’t care that she’s hurting. It only cares that she’s trying to leave. It knows she’s mine to protect, and it’s screaming for me to drag her back from the edge.
I force my claws to stay sheathed. I don’t reach for her, but gods, I want to. I want to feel her in my hands—but if I touch herlike this, I’ll leave bruises on her memories, even if I never leave a mark on her skin.
“You think I’m keeping you here for me?” My voice comes out flat, ironed thin by restraint that’s cracking by the seconds.
Her shoulders twitch, but she still doesn’t turn.
“You think this is about control?” I shake my head. “This isn’t control, Lumi. This is war.”
My voice deepens.
