The ballroom shimmers in golden light. Too bright. Too polished. Too perfect. It's supposed to be a ball—but something is wrong. People stand still like porcelain dolls, frozen in place. Dozens of eyes lock on me—unblinking. Gleaming like shattered mirrors.
Then—a scream. Jace. His voice splits in two, crushed between the walls of a reality on the verge of collapse.
I run. Heels pound like hollow drums. But the distance never ends. Time twists, pulling me backward. Every step feels like a fall. The walls shift. Shadows stretch.
And then—glowing eyes surround me. Pupils shrink in cruelty. The green light burns with such intensity that it sears my skin without making contact. Something inside me melts—but I can't scream.
My hands lift—without my will. Another will take over. Something within me wants to scream—and that part of me isn't entirely myself.
I try to move. But my body locks. My mouth opens. No sound. My pulse races, desperate to catch up with reality unraveling around me.
And within the silence—I hear a whisper. Soft. Precise. "If you choose Him… it will break."
Not a warning. A truth I've buried. And when those eyes closed in on me, I knew—this was only the beginning. Not because I made a wrong choice, but because there is no right choice. Only different kinds are broken.
Charred dust coats my tongue. Iron on my lips. Smoke in my nose. A sting along my skin. My body folds inward—dark, trembling. Maybe it's not love I'm afraid to lose. Maybe I'm terrified of becoming something unstoppable.
The scream rips out of me like a blade, tearing the silence apart.
And then—I open my eyes. My pillow is wet. My heart seizes. Just a dream. Or not.
But it wasn't only a nightmare. The feeling remains—something ancient awakened. Sa'ar—the dragon I summoned—didn't disappear. He wasn't just born. He remained. He breathes inside me.
And deep down, I knew—maybe I couldn't save myself. But maybe… I meant to save him.
"Amelia?"
That voice… is familiar. Abigail?
I jump up, heart hammering. And there she is. My little sister—or the girl who once was. Wavy brown hair. Brown eyes. Angel wings and horns—just like me.
But something is off. The air feels too heavy. Too sweet. Wrong. Her nails—longer than I remember. And when I step closer, I hear the soft tap-tap of sandals on wood. She always walked barefoot.
She hugs me—but I still feel alone. Like, part of her drifted too far away. Not physically. Emotionally.
My skin prickles. My pulse quickens. Her gaze—unfamiliar; maybe it was never mine to know.
She stands there like she never left. But her whisper tells me this isn't home.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, startled.
"I've got a few days off for fall break… so I thought I'd visit you. All of you." She smiles—but her eyes dart away, like they can't hold mine.
"Do you remember the wall in our room?" she asks without warning.
I frown. We never had a special wall. Or… did we? Maybe she remembers something I forgot. Something lost.
She places her bag on the bed like she belongs here—but the way she does it whispers, "This isn't home." From the half-zipped bag, I catch a glimpse—a small, round, silver box. She shoves it back inside and zips it shut.
The shape echoes in my memory—familiar. Too familiar. But I can't place it.
"I'm thrilled that you're here," I say.
She blinks. Her eyes search mine with an intensity that feels overwhelming. "You look… different. Your eyes—did you see something again?"
My heart thuds harder. She always knew how to read me. But this time, it feels like she sees through my bones.
I nod. Barely.
"We'll talk later!" I call, already running down the stairs.
But long after I leave, my body continues to shake. And I don't know whether I ran from her—or from myself.
On my way back to school, my legs still tremble. Each step feels like I'm leaving the dream behind—but inside me, it walks with me.
I don't notice I've taken the forest path—until I see him.
At school, I park far from the entrance. A cool breeze brushes past. Students stroll, wrapped in their ordinary day. But my heart is anything but ordinary.
And then—my eyes catch him.
Oliver.
He walks between the teacher's lounge and the library. Stops. Look at me. His gaze pierces—sad. Intense. Silent.
My heart drops.
Since that training, the one where I almost drowned, I'd feared seeing that look again. Fearful of what he saw in me in that moment.
It feels like a kick to the gut. My shoulders tremble—breath fractures. The world moves on. I freeze.
He hovers in my thoughts like a shadow I can't banish. I try to run toward him—but I can't. The words die before they're born.
He looks away—but the edge of his brow quivers. A soft sigh escapes him, like he's letting go.
But it's too late. I've already cracked.
I want to ask. But I fear the answer more than the question.
And then Jace is there—an anchor.
"Jace! Wait!"
He pauses. Keeps walking.
"Something happened? You look… different from what you looked like this morning."
"My sister came back. I haven't seen her in a long time."
"Oh, right… Didn't you say she was at the university?"
"She was in a boarding school." And so was I, a boarding school inside my heart. A place I locked away. Maybe that's why her visit hurts more than it should.
He offers a gentle smile. I try to smile back, though my heart is still elsewhere.
Something in me softens near him. My body, so tense before, eases.
I want to tell him everything blazing inside me—but all I do is nod. I am telling a quiet lie to cover the truth.
"We've got time before class—do you want to keep working on the project?"
I nod, walking beside him to the library. We don't touch. But for a moment, that's enough.
He starts typing; I watch.
And even if he doesn't know it—in that moment, Jace becomes my safe place.
It's the only one I have left. Someone who doesn't know what I am—yet still accepts me as I am.