CHAPTER LXXVII
Lylah's Point of View
"Caelum, please… listen to me, stop!" I pleaded, my voice trembling as I reached out toward her. But she wasn't ready to hear me. Her eyes were clouded with fear and confusion, her steps unsteady, as though she wanted to escape not just me but the truth that was slowly closing in around her.
My heart clenched at the sight—this wasn't how I wanted her to see me, not with panic, not with doubt. She was supposed to see the love I carried, the loyalty that burned like fire in my veins for her. Yet at that moment, all I could see in her was a terrified soul, running away from shadows she couldn't yet name.
A few weeks earlier…
I remember how different my heart had felt back then. It was light, almost weightless, because I was filled with joy. I was finally going to meet Caelum—not as a stranger, not as a secret, but as myself. As Celeste. Her Celeste. I imagined the moment vividly: her eyes lighting up, her lips curving into that rare smile, her heart recognizing mine even before I said a single word.
But before that dream could take shape, the world shattered around me.
Ethan appeared in my path like a shadow slipping from the cracks of reality. His voice was calm, too calm for the weight of the truth he carried. "Lylah," he said, "you cannot reveal yourself to her as Celeste. Not yet."
I frowned, ready to argue, but then his next words froze me in place.
"The curse… the reason Caelum carries this torment, the one who set it in motion—Finnian—is still on Earth."
My breath caught. Still on Earth? Still watching?
Ethan's gaze sharpened, his expression hard with a knowledge I didn't want to face. "Not only is he here, but he has already tangled himself with her new family. That means Caelum is still in danger. If you go to her openly, if you show her who you are… you might be walking her straight into his trap."
I felt the blood drain from my face, my heart pounding like a warning drum inside my chest. Every dream I had—of holding her, of letting her finally know—was suddenly painted over with danger.
Ethan stepped closer, his tone quieter but urgent, almost desperate. "You need a disguise, Lylah. A new form, a new name, a new life to approach her with. Only then can you protect her without Finnian recognizing you. Only then can you stay close without leading her to her doom."
I stood there trembling, torn between the ache of my longing and the weight of my responsibility. I wanted nothing more than to run to Caelum, to throw myself into her arms and whisper, I've found you again. But I couldn't risk it. Not when her life hung in the balance.
So I swallowed my truth, I buried Celeste deep inside me, and I chose the mask of Lylah—the form that would allow me to stand beside her, silently guarding, silently loving, until the moment came when the truth could be set free without destroying us both.
And now… watching her flee from me, hearing her call my name with fear instead of love—I wondered if I had already waited too long.
Her weight in my arms was both fragile and grounding, like holding a dream I was terrified to lose if I dared to breathe too loudly. Carefully, I lowered us both to the floor, refusing to let her slip away even for a heartbeat.
I brushed a strand of hair from her face, my fingers trembling as they traced the curve of her cheek. Her skin was soft, pale like moonlight, and her lips parted slightly with each slow, steady breath. It was the first time in days that I had seen her without fear etched into her features. Peace suited her—it made her look like the Caelum I once knew, the one I had fallen in love with across lifetimes.
"Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?" I whispered, my words falling like secrets into the stillness. "Even when you fight me… even when you don't believe me… I can't stop choosing you. Every time, I will choose you."
Her hand had fallen limply to her side, and I caught it, threading my fingers through hers. The contrast of her cold skin against my warmth made me clutch tighter, as if I could pour life and love into her just by holding on.
I shifted closer, resting her head gently against my lap. My other hand moved almost instinctively, combing through her hair with slow, soothing strokes, untangling the strands as if I could untangle the storms inside her too. She sighed faintly, even in her unconscious state, leaning into the touch as though her body recognized me even if her mind still doubted.
A small, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. "I wish you could hear me now," I breathed. "I wish you could see how desperately I'm trying to keep you safe. One day, Caelum, you'll understand… and maybe then, you won't run from me anymore."
Leaning down, I pressed the faintest kiss to her forehead—featherlight, like the promise of a dawn that hadn't arrived yet. My lips lingered there for a moment, memorizing the warmth of her skin.
"Rest now," I murmured, tucking her closer against me. "As long as you're in my arms, no curse, no shadow, no Finnian will ever reach you."
The room was silent except for the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath my touch, and in that quiet, I allowed myself one fragile moment of hope. She was here, with me, safe. And for now—that was enough.
I turned to Flash, the ancient parrot with his piercing golden eyes, and Chiko, the mischievous little monkey who was always bouncing with restless energy. My voice was gentle but firm, carrying both trust and urgency.
"Please," I said softly, brushing my hand once more over Caelum's hair as she lay resting, "take care of her for me. Don't let her out of your sight, not even for a moment. She needs peace more than anything right now."
Flash flapped his wings in acknowledgment, his feathers shimmering faintly as though carrying traces of ancient magic. Chiko, on the other hand, puffed his tiny chest proudly, saluting in his own clumsy way before settling down at Caelum's side, determined to act as a guardian despite his playful nature. Seeing their loyalty eased my heart just a little, enough for me to turn away.
I rose to my feet and let out a long breath. Today was not an ordinary day. Astrid's parents were coming to meet her after so long, and I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted them to walk into this home and feel the warmth, the welcome, the love that surrounded their child.
With that thought, I began decorating the house, my hands moving quickly but with care. I hung garlands across the walls, their bright colors bringing life into the quiet rooms. I lit soft candles, their flickering glow filling the corners with a gentle warmth. The air slowly grew fragrant as I scattered petals on the floor, each step leaving behind a trail of color like whispers of celebration.
Every small detail carried my emotions—hope, nervousness, and a deep wish to honor the bond between family. As I tied the last ribbon onto the doorway, I paused, staring at it with a smile tugging at my lips. For a moment, I imagined Astrid's parents walking in, their eyes lighting up at the sight of her, and the thought filled my chest with something tender.
But beneath the cheerfulness, there was still a quiet current of worry. My heart kept drifting back to Caelum—lying there, vulnerable, guarded only by Flash and Chiko. Even as I worked, I kept glancing toward her room, listening for the faintest sound. It was as if half of me was here, preparing for joy, while the other half remained beside her, unwilling to let go.
Still, I pressed on, because that's what love demanded—balancing the weight of different worlds, holding together the fragile threads of safety, happiness, and hope. And as the last decorations fell into place, the home began to glow with a beauty that wasn't just from the lights or flowers—it was from the love stitched into every corner.
To be continue....