Page 100 of Hunger & Harmony

As our laughter tapers off, and her crinkled eyes lose their light, I know it’s too late.

“I didn’t want to believe it.”

Her words hang heavy in the air. I shift my position, facing her as she stares ahead. If possible, her posture is more rigid than before.

“I . . .”

What can I say?

“Survival requires choosing the lesser evil,” she whispers, her manicured fingers curling into tight fists on her thighs. “But that’s just it. The lesser evil is still . . .”

I chew my inner cheek, staring at her side profile. Is she even speaking to me anymore?

She sharply turns her head, lightning in her eyes as they find mine.

“Love doesn’t make monsters safer, Cadence.”

A memory slams into my chest. The morning we left Gravemont, the first time she used that word to describe vampires. What was once a divide is now a bond. It’s no longer humans versus vampires. It’s me interwoven with a vampire.

My heart beats within his chest. His memory lives as my own. Lust, fascination, and a budding romance have twisted into something I can’t name.

How can I defend something to her when I can’t explain it myself?

“I know.”

She pauses. The distant hum of Sunveil expands in our silence, cars heading home as the sun starts its bedtime routine.

“I know love doesn’t fix everything,” I continue. “I . . . don’t even know . . .what love is.”

My head hangs, and I fuss with a loose string on my knee.

“I haven’t watched any of what was broadcast that night.” I pull the indigo thread loose, unraveling part of the fabric. It’s a small hole, but if I don’t stop, I’ll ruin these pants. “There’s no guide for this. Maybe I can be the first Dissonant micro-influencer or something.”

I laugh dryly before I sniffle. These damn tears again.

Viola’s hand lies over mine, stopping me from tugging the thread any further. I can’t meet her gaze, and even if I did, the whole room blurs.

“Honestly, I don’t know much. I don’t know . . .who ever would,” she says. “People keep saying this will escalate. There aren’t protocols in place to contain a bond like this, and the whole world is running away with speculations.”

She squeezes my knee, earnest as she looks at me.

“The only one suffering is you.”

My throat constricts. When I blink, tears roll down my face. I see my longest friend—my true family—staring at me with such anxiety, and I know she’s wrong.

“It’s not just me,” I whisper.

“The vampire king⁠—”

“No.” I shake my head sadly. “You're hurting, too.”

Her lips part, only staring in return. I can’t hold it in anymore. A sob heaves from deep in my chest, and I crumple onto her shoulder.

Weariness releases from my diaphragm when she clings back. She’s always so restrained. I hate that I’ve put her in this place, only wanting the best for me, but having to say the hard things. Guilt makes a home on my mind’s shelf of ugly feelings, and I cry until there’s nothing left.

She’s crying, too. I almost laugh when I'm calm enough to look at her, so different from my snotty, blotchy self. Crystalline tears bubble down her cheeks, and she dabs a tissue on her nose.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and she shakes her head.