Page 93 of Hunger & Harmony

Our eyes meet again. His hand splays out for me, and I take it. He’s not going anywhere. I let my head rest on his shoulder.

When I open my eyes again, I’m home.

The last rays of daylight spill through the blinds, dappling cold amber across my luggage and orange shag rug. Sunveil will always live up to its name, even in November.

Stretching my arms out and wiggling my feet under the blanket, I can almost pretend it’s the first week of my new job again. The first breath of freedom with the entire world at my fingertips.

No prophecies, blood, or shared dreams.

I roll over, and my eyes fall to the phones on my nightstand. They couldn’t be more different. My work phone is black, sleek, and the latest model. I’m pretty sure my personal phone is its great, great, great grandparent, and the yellowing clear case and faded stickers show that. Still, they sit next to each other, equally useful.

Equally terrifying.

I don’t have to think about it. I push every and any thought out of my head, replacing it with affirmations and the sound of my humming.

Maybe I can’t outrun everything that’s happened. But if I push on, shower, and smile into a protein bar, maybe everything will give up and go away.

I don’t know who I’m fooling. Definitely not the bond beating within my ribcage.

As I chew the last of my breakfast, my eyes betray me. They drag closer to the door. I’m still in my bedroom, now sitting at the bare, wooden desk. Sunlight is fading, and so are my bubblegum lies.

I know Niko’s right there. If I concentrate on him, I can see him outlined against my bedroom door. Standing with his back against it, arms tucked and eyes closed.

Waiting? I throw my wrapper in the bin and let my forehead hit the top of the desk. No, he’s trying to be helpful.

I hate that it’s working.

We only got back yesterday. The company building was swarmed with cameras, both reporters and fans flocking to every entrance and window they could get to. It was a fight to get to my apartment, and may or may not have involved a siren song.

The safety within these walls is false, though, and the silence is even more so. I don’t want to look at the headlines. I’m more scared of any message from Viola. Not sure if my parents have said anything, but I just can’t face it.

My world has shattered, and the entire actual world has thoughts on every part. Judgement, excitement, jealousy, and entertainment. It doesn’t matter what angle someone has; it all makes me queasy. The finale was broadcast, and I lost count of how many people saw it after millions of views on multiple posts.

Dissonant. Cadence Monroe. Red-headed human. Not human? Niklaus Vane’s well-kept secret. Betrayal. Blood. Bond.

Every speculation builds in the comment sections when I barely know what to think. So, I deleted all my socials and turned my phone off. If Arteria fans think I’m some spy sent to destroy their favorite rockstar, they’re in alignment with the Midnight Court. Sancte Noctis may have hunted quietly, but Sunveil is chewing and spitting me out in broad daylight.

If only I were as cool as these comments say I am. Though I’d go for a lot of boring over anything else right now. I ache for one night of normalcy.

I straighten my spine and glance back at the door. He’s still there, like some kind of lost puppy. That thought almost tugs up my lips.

Everything’s a blur, but he’s a constant. I almost forgot what life was like without him. My fingers twitch, and I internally groan. No, I don’t want a hug, and I’m definitely not opening the door.

“Cadence?”

I gawk at the maple wood when his muffled voice sounds from behind it.

“Are you eavesdropping?” I huff, and there’s a beat of silence.

“It’s . . .not really eavesdropping if it’s involuntary, right?”

My eyes roll.

“Open the door.”

I’m not as stoic when I can see him. He doesn’t come close, simply leaning in the doorway with his eyes trained forward. His hair is back in that adorable headband, a black tee and jeans are all he needs to look good. It’s a little unfair.

Everything about him is unfair. He’s the answer to my pain, the salve for every wound. No one person should have that power over me, immortal or otherwise. I don’t want my fragile heart in his unwilling hands. I’ll write my own fate, thank you very much.