Page 118 of Hunger & Harmony

“Until next time,” he says, bowing his head. “Your Majesty.”

When I make my way back to the living room, only Niko remains. His eyes pull away from the brightening sky as I approach him.

“Hey.”

It’s such a small word. Just like this moment. It’s almost too calm as he takes me into his arms, and I settle against him.

His lips meet my hair, and I hold him closer when his posture tightens.

“I don’t think I’ve said this yet,” he whispers. “But I . . .I won’t waste this moment.”

Pulling back to look at him, I watch his gaze soften, and I swear the sun rises a little slower for us.

“Yes?”

“I love you, Cadence.”

He gently takes hold of my hands. His resolve falters slightly, the control of a king making way for the man made of devotion and shadow. I let my tears escape, closing my eyes as he presses his forehead to mine.

“I love you so much. I promise . . .” His whisper ghosts over my lips. “I promise to return to you. To do everything I can. To see the stars with you again.”

Inhaling shakily, I let my eyes flutter open. Burgundy irises sear into mine, like he never wants to forget this image.

“I love you, too,” I whisper, trying not to let my voice crack. “I’ll do the same, and I . . .I . . .” I kiss him briefly. “Th-This isn’t the end.”

Damn my tears. I lift my hand from his to wipe at my face. Only, he cups my cheeks, brushing my tears away for me.

“I’m—”

“No apologies.”

He places a gentle kiss on my forehead. The permission to cry hits me full force. He accepts me as I am. My smile sweetens, and I surge forward to kiss him again.

After all, one can only see starlight in the dark.

I hold that thought with me as we part. Reluctantly, slowly, we pull away, our hands the last to separate. Or maybe our eyes.

“See you later,” I say as he lingers in the doorway.

My doorway. Is it any more?

“I love you,” he says, and I laugh through my tears.

“I love you, too.”

I walk backward through the hallway. I don’t want to, but there’s no other choice. There’s no going back. Even as the threads of fate that tie me to him pull under my ribs, a hum of protest building the further I walk.

The weight of grief slams into my chest when I round the corner. I pull my blue hoodie up, tightening it around my hair and blotchy face.

Even after I’ve climbed into the elevator and clutch my suitcases, I don’t know where I’m going or what to do. My phone burns in my pocket. Should I call Viola?

As the elevator doors open, my swollen eyes widen. I don’t have to agonize over that question anymore.

“Let’s go home, Cadie.”

28

CRUMPLED PROPHECY