But I can’t let her fall asleep until I apologize for the way I treated her. She looked so small in the bath. Surrounded by the wreckage of what happened, I let my anger consume me. I was supposed to be her calm, not the storm.
"Lumi," I reach out slowly, my hand hovering over hers. "May I?"
She nods, burrowing deeper into my chest.
I take her hand gently, so gently, and press it to my chest, right over my heart.
"This is me," I say, meeting her eyes. "Always. If you ever doubt—if you ever wonder—feel this. The bond doesn't lie, thal'morin. You'll know me. Always."
Her eyes glisten. A tear spills down her cheek.
"I'm sorry," she breathes. "I'm so sorry?—"
"No." I cup her face with my free hand, brushing away the tear. "You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. Do you understand me?"
She shakes her head, more tears falling.
"He tricked you. Violated you. Used my voice—my words—against you." My voice drops to something lethal. "I’m going to find him, Lumi. I’ll find him, and peel his soul out slow enough the gods themselves will look away.”
Her breathing evens out, and her fingers loosen in my fur.
“Vralin’ael serkai...Aem’nar until velorin. (If I shattered you with my edges... I’ll be soft until you heal.) I whisper. “Thrak’mir ael’kae, varûn velrinna etra.” (Let my ribs break before I make you flinch again.)
She stirs at the sound of my language.
My voice is a ghost against her temple. “Etravi’sûn narh velorin. Ael’thrûn vralin, veylûn.” (I will unmake myself before I ever break you again.)
I press my brow to her temple, lashes wet. “Just... stay. Stay here with me. Where I can keep you.”
I press my brow to her temple, eyes burning. “Serentha vael’sûn. Ael’aen nirae, Lumi.” (Let this pain be mine instead. Dream without sorrow, Lumi)
I watch her face soften as the minutes pass, but his name still haunts my mind. The broken sounds she made for him.
I grit my teeth. Force it down. I thread my fingers gently through hers. “Vael’an kaemorin, Saelûn.” (I failed you. Let me be yours again, soulbond.)
I hold her for a long time, just feeling her breathe.
Eventually, I ease out from under her, tucking the furs around her.
I need to clean the bathroom before she wakes and hurts herself.
I slip the light on, and the window catches my eye. The ghost of our initials is still visible. Something dark and possessive curls through my chest... but then I notice something taped to the outside of the glass—a small package, wrapped neatly in purple ribbon.
A sharp heat sweeps through my blood, boiling until my pulse is nothing but a distant thud. I cross the room slowly, shards of glass crunch and grind under my hooves, leaving a trail of silver powder behind me.
I rip the window open, and frigid air rushes in, grounding me. The sudden drop in temperature crystallizes the rage in my chest, turning it from a messy, hot blur into something cold and precise.
My gaze drops back to the package, and the frost on the glass shudders as my fingers reach for it. The purple silk is a sickening bruise against the white of my world, an insult I can’t wait to tear apart.
A single claw cuts through the bow; it falls to the floor in frozen crumbs. I peel back the paper with painfully slow precision that contradicts the storm screaming in my chest.
Inside is a photograph. My vision tunnels. It’s Lumi in her apartment, head thrown back, lips parted, one hand between her legs, the other holding?—
Purple.
That thrahking purple toy.
He watched her in her most private moments and photographed her without her knowledge.
