I lean my forehead against the rough timber of the last window and let out a long exhale.
If I can’t see the world, the world can’t see her.
Lumi-
I wake to glowing blue eyes staring at me.
“Good morning,” I rasp.
“Lumi...I-I’m so sorry for earlier.” His voice is broken. Not the gravelly way it sometimes gets when he’s holding himself back—no, this is soul-crushing.
For a moment, I don’t move. I study his face in the warm glow of the fire. He looks so fragile right now. I wonder how long he’s been kneeling beside the bed like that.
My voice comes out scratchy, “I didn’t know it wasn’t you, Andrik.”
He flinches, eyes squeezing shut.
“It’s not your fault, Lumi. It’s mine,” his voice is strained. “I’m your saelûn. I’m supposed to make sure you’re satisfied. Instead, I left you to burn alone.”
“You didn’t leave me; you passed out,” I whisper. “You were exhausted. You obviously needed sleep.”
His head dips low onto the bed. The blue crystals at the tips of his antlers catch the light, casting tiny reflections across the walls like little rainbow crystals.
“That’s not an excuse. I should’ve felt it sooner. I should’ve?—”
“Stop,” my voice cracks. I reach out, pressing trembling fingers to his jaw. His skin is colder than I’ve ever felt it. It soothes the lingering heat pulsing through my body. “You didn't know. Neither of us did. We can’t let this tear us apart.”
His breath stutters as he fists the blankets beside my leg. “He used my voice, Lumi. He made you?—”
“I know what he made me do,” I cut in softly. “But it was only because I thought it was you. This has nothing to do with him.”
He opens his eyes, and they pierce through the shadows, filled with a storm of emotion. “You were reaching for our soulbond,” he says quietly, pain threading through every word. “That’s not wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Guilt twists in my gut. I can’t shake the nagging feeling that I was reaching for more than just Andrik. I even told him he sounded funny, and instead of opening my eyes and confrontingthe truth, I allowed my instincts to take over. Was it really Andrik I craved... or the way the words felt against my skin?
A strange ache builds in my chest, one I can’t quite name. Maybe it’s shame. Maybe it’s hunger still trying to claw its way out.
Andrik watches me like he’s afraid I’ll fade if he blinks.
“I don't know what’s wrong with me,” I whisper, my voice shaking with the weight of my emotions. “Part of me wanted it to be you so badly that I didn’t care if the game—or the nickname made sense. I felt so compelled to listen.”
He reaches for my hand, “That’s the bond, Lumi. It’s supposed to pull you toward me,”
“But what if it’s not just that?” I ask. “What if there’s something broken in me? What if I’m so desperate to feel wanted now that Anna’s gone, I’ll accept any voice that promises it?”
He shakes his head immediately, but the words are spilling out faster than I can catch them.
“I thought I was strong,” I say, forcing a shaky laugh. “That I was healing. But last night—” I press a hand over my chest and try to slow my breathing. “I realized I’m still so easy to reach. So easily fooled.”
He moves slowly, placing his hand over mine where it trembles over my heart. “You’re not easily fooled, Lumi. How could you have known someone could steal my voice?”
“If this bond is so sacred,” I whisper, “shouldn’t I have just known that something was wrong?
His thumb drags lightly over the inside of my wrist.
“The bond isn’t fulfilled, Saelûn,” he murmurs. “You can’t feel me the way I feel you yet,” The corner of his lip curls slightly upward. “Plus, little mortal, you have the disadvantage of being a human. Nothing will ever feel quite as intense for you.”
I side-eye him, and his shoulders shake with a silent chuckle.
