She's there. She's right there.
Cecilia stood in the moonlight like a vision he had conjured from his own desperate longing. Her blonde hair catching the silver glow, still slightly tangled from the wind, her dress was rumpled and dusted with the glittering remnants of the divine snow that had fallen across the city.
Her face was tired, her eyes rimmed with red, her cheeks flushed. And her belly rose before her like a promise to a future he had no part in.
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
No. No, no. He did want to find her, but not like this. Not like this!
She shouldn't see him with Ruby anymore!
"Arzhen...?" Ruby pulled his hand gently, trying to redirect him back on track to the medic tent.
Although Anton Vasiliev had returned from the dead, Ruby figured Arzhen was still his son. Blood was blood. Just like how she knew the Delanivis would rise again, since families like theirs always did, Arzhen too could rise again.
