“Focus on me,” he said, his words a firm whisper.
“Tilly. Let the rhythm be the only thing they can’t control and follow my steps.”
We moved together, twirling around the room our steps in perfect harmony with the fateful tune. He pulled me into the centre of the room his grip firm and guiding. As we danced the notes were bending to match our rhythm. He leaned in, his voice barely audible above the music. The voices in my head faded, further lost beneath the music.
“You're blocking them out and stopping them from reaching you,” Fionn said.
Cillian straightened in his chair, his jaw flexed. I noticed Cillian’s fingers curled against the armrest, knuckles whitening as Fionn’s hand remained firm at my back. Cillian’s eyes, usually so calm, became darker.
“None of the others silenced Vareth. They all succumbed to the noise.” Seraphina looked in awe as she spoke.
Fionn’s grip on me tightened slightly, his eyes searching mine. “Forget about them. Forget about everyone in this room.” I observed him cautiously as he spoke. “Tilly, focus on the music.” It was a demand, one that I welcomed.
Right now, I followed his command, no one else mattered. They had no control over this. Right now, this was a plight only Fionn and I could bear. A plight it seemed, we shared. I did as he said and lost myself to the music and just like that, the voicesmelted away. I wondered if the music was calming his thoughts, too—if this was a glimpse into what he really enjoyed doing.
He knew the steps perfectly; he knew how to stand firm and lead, his body a steady anchor in the spinning of the room.
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around his. It was almost impossible to believe I was dancing with Fionn, now that I knew he heard the voices too.
“What do they tell you?”
He hesitated. Then he quietly said, “They tell us all different things.”
My pulse raced with each word that came out of his mouth “I want to know. Because the voices are in my head as well. I need to know.”
“Do you really want to know? Words can’t be withdrawn,” he said, the darkness returning to his eyes.
I ignored the hesitation inside of me and nodded. I couldn’t show fear. I had to hear what he had to say.
Fionn held my gaze for a lingering second.
“They want you dead.” His words came out almost silent.
I straightened, my fear becoming defiant.
“I want to live,” I muttered, my breath brushing against his ear. I thought of him speaking to Seraphina and saying that he wanted to end me. I needed him to know I wanted to live. I felt the muscle in his shoulder tense under my palm, a tensed jolt that told me my words landed. If he was still planning to kill me, I wanted him to know that he was planning to kill someone who was desperate to live.
He didn’t pull away. Instead, he guided me to a turn so sharp it stole my breath, his body protecting mine from the rest of the room as if we were the only two people dancing our way through this cursed world.
Fionn’s grip on my waist tightened slightly, and his jaw clenched as he leaned in closer. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable.
“This curse doesn’t just break us-it turns us into monsters.”
I don’t know where the braveness came from. “That part I believe,” I said, absorbing his warning.
“The curse comes for us all, whether we want it or not.” Fionn’s jaw tightened, his movements stiff as we turned together. His voice was deliberately low “Are you still blocking them out?”
I faltered, the truth catching in my throat. “Yes,” I whispered.
His eyes darkened with a flicker of approval.
“Good. Hold the silence while you can. But if you don’t want to die like the others, then choose quickly and choose wisely.”
His words struck me like a blow, and for a moment, the usual storm in his eyes cleared, replaced by a hint of warmth.
The music reached its crescendo, the haunting melody spinning us around the room in a tragically beautiful dance. In that final sweeping turn the world outside Sternwacht ceased to exist. There were no stars, no Gods and no flipping prophecies. Only the heat of his hand on my waist.
Then Fionn did something he hadn’t done before. His hand slid from my waist to the small of my back, pressing me closer and guiding me with a firmness that felt unexpectedly intimate. It wasn’t like him. The sudden closeness startled me, and my step faltered, my foot catching clumsily against his. At once his fingers tightened against my back, steadying me before I could lose the rhythm of the dance.
