The tunnel of light began to thin, and the world pitched, I spun, my stomach dropping, back toward my body.
"Open your eyes, Tilly."
My lungs found air, and my eyes slammedopen. I was back in the room.
I blinked, trying to put my thoughts together, the pity I had felt for him in the vision turned into fear. I wanted to scream at him that I knew what they’d done to him, but the tightening of his fingers on my skin told me he didn't want my sympathy.
Portraits stared down from the walls, their faces turned to me, their eyes no longer just portraits but witnesses to what was unfolding here. Namarelle stood where she had left me, pale and still clutching the Orb.
"Breathe, Tilly," Seraphina said in her calm but brittle voice.
"The sensation will pass."
Torin interjected excitedly, "What did you see?"
Fionn loomed at the edge of the room with his cold expression. I looked at him and all I could see was the boy trying to shield his brothers from the lash, his face twisted in fear. It made me sick to my stomach, knowing that the boy who suffered so much was the same man planning my death.
I looked at Cillian and felt the same sympathy. He was a young boy manipulated into submission, a child who had traded his heart to stop his brother losing his eye. The heartbreaking truth was he stepped forward because of his bond for his older brother. A wave of exhaustion wash over me, not just tired but utterly emptied.
"I travelled through the light into your world. I saw your world. I saw the moons and the blood moon rising.
There was a cold, white room with a mirror. I saw my future."
I met Cillian's gaze through the blur. The 'charming' tilt of his head was gone, replaced by a predatory stillness. I saw the training in his posture now—the "charm" Seraphina had forced into him like a weaponto lure in girls like me.
Cillian's jaw tightened. "Who was your bond? Was it me? Tilly…tell me. Or did you see my brother’s shadow in that mirror?”
I looked to Cillian and then to Fionn both listened with interest.
“I couldn’t be sure. There were two fates, I replied. “It was hard to understand who I chose”
Seraphina walked towards Fionn, looking at him as if sharing a secret, then at me.
“Child, futures can be bent. That’s why we needed Namarelle, her guidance was important.”
Namarelle interrupted with urgency, speaking in a language I didn't fully grasp. Now that I was back in reality, her voice was quick and urgent, she shook her head with fear as if she was warning me. I wanted to ask her what was wrong but without the Orb I couldn’t communicate.
Seraphina glanced at the others before fixing her gaze on Fionn. Something passed between them, a look heavy enough to silence the room.
My voice came out raw as I looked atCillianstill in shock "Cillian if what she showed me is true, there is two paths.
Deep inside me I was twisting the truth. The path the mirror showed me led to me binding to the wrong person, and that horrified me because I realized now that no matter who I chose, I was choosing a monster created by a torturer.
“Return Tilly to her room. That’s enough for today.” Said Seraphina as the Ecliptuari opened the doors and walked into the room.
Cillian took my arm, gripping it too tightly. What the hell was wrong with him? The pity I had felt for him in the past vision turned to fear. I wanted to scream at him that I knew what they’d done to him, but the tightening of his fingers on my wrist told me he didn't want my sympathy.
"You're seeing the true side of him now, the one who steals hearts and smiles as he steals the soul."came the voice, as if trying to twist the knife. He moved with terrifying speed, dragging me down corridors that seemed to stretch and warp beneath the weight of his anger. He wanted me away from the Sternlit Halle, away from his brothers. I could feel it.
When we reached my chamber, the charming mask he usually wore was gone.
At the door, he didn’t just stop. He stepped into my space, his shadow stretching up the door and onto the ceiling. His arm shot up beside me, boxing me in with a single movement.
He stared at me like a predator about to pounce.
With his other hand, he yanked the door open with such force that the heavy oak groaned. I was surprised he didn’t rip it from the hinges. My heart raced. He was angry in a way I didn’t understand. It was too sudden.
The scar tightened, the skin around it paling as his jaw clenched.
