Lucian’s mouth covers mine like he’s starving, and for a heartbeat I feel him tremble—like the bond between us, whatever it is, yanks tight.
I break the kiss just enough to whisper against his lips.
“Goodbye…I'll never forget you.”
His eyes flash—pain and hunger and something like grief flashing in their depths.
But then his hands loosen and I know for sure, he’s letting me go.
I turn away before my courage dies. Mr. Mittens is miraculously still here—tail puffed, eyes huge, but he hasn’t bolted. He watches the vortex like he understands it’s dangerous.
“Come here, baby,” I whisper, my voice shaking.
I scoop him up and he makes a startled mrrp sound and then clings to me, claws carefully hooked into my dress like he’s decided I’m his safe place.
My feet carry me forward, but my body feels like it’s made of lead. And my heart feels like it’s being left behind on the obsidian floor.
But I run towards the vortex anyway—before I can stop myself, before I can look back again, before the look on Lucian’s face can undo me.
The light swallows me.
It’s cold and hot at the same time—like plunging into icy water that somehow burns. For a fraction of a second, I feel weightless.
And then—everything tears sideways.
The last thing I feel, right before the world turns inside out, is the phantom pressure of Lucian’s arms around me…like my body is already mourning his loss.
Oh God. Oh God, what have I done?
66
Jules
The world snaps back into place around me.
One second I’m standing in a vortex of blinding light, Lucian’s arms still warm around me, his kiss still burning on my lips—and the next I’m standing in my tiny living room, my feet planted on the familiar, slightly uneven carpet.
I’m back in my crappy little apartment—I’m home.
Mr. Mittens is still clutched under my arm, his solid, wriggly weight the only thing keeping me upright as the dizziness washes over me in a slow, nauseating wave.
My vision swims and the walls tilt. I sway—then steady myself, breathing hard.
“Okay,” I mutter. “Okay, it’s okay. We’re… we’re back.”
Mr. Mittens lets out an indignant mrrrow and twists violently in my grip, his back feet bicycling in protest.
“Oh—sorry!” I crouch down and let him go.
He hits the carpet, shakes himself like he’s been inconvenienced rather than magically transported between realms, and then immediately trots off to inspect the couch, the coffee table, and the suspicious absence of his food bowl.
Hanna makes a small sound behind me.
I spin around and see that she’s standing straighter.
To my relief, I see she’s not just upright—she’s solid. The faint translucence that made my stomach twist into knots is gone. The hollowed, distant look in her eyes has vanished, replaced by her usual practical gaze.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, my voice tight as I reach for her.
