I wrapped the heavy cloak tighter around me as we entered the cave, still dimly lit by the last rays of the sun. It was small, with a trickle of water seeping in through a corner, forming a little pool of crystal water. He watched me examine the place.
—You can drink from there if you're thirsty. It's pure spring water. —He gathered some dry branches from a corner and, striking stone against stone, lit a fire at the cave's entrance.
—This will keep them away.
I sat on a rock, wrapped in the cloak. He was soaked too. He sat across from the fire, his eyes fixed on the flames, his hair falling over his face. That's when I saw it.
A scar. Long. Pale. Across his collarbone.
I shivered. How had he survived an injury like that?
—Are you cold? —he asked without looking at me.
—I'm fine —I lied, trembling inside.
—You skin and lips are almost blue —he added, lifting a brow.
—And you look like someone who thinks he almost owns the world.
A fleeting smile crossed his face.
Something inside me, silently, began to give in.
I had a thousand questions, but none felt safe to ask. Honestly, part of me didn't want to talk. I wanted to watch him. Understand him. There was something about him... It wasn't just the way he touched me without touching me, or how he seemed to read my thoughts effortlessly. It was the energy radiating from him, as if the air itself shifted around him.
Suddenly, he stood. His shirt parted slightly, revealing the thin scar across his collarbone again. A lord with scars? Something didn't fit. It was completely out of place in a man who moved like he'd never been wounded.
—Are you going to sit there freezing out of pride? —he asked, offering me a blanket I hadn't seen before.
—Where did that come from?
—Not everything you see is all there is —he replied with that infuriating calm that made me want to throw a rock at him.
I accepted the blanket without a word. When my fingers brushed his, that damned current returned. It was like liquid electricity running through my skin. I swallowed hard and looked away, but I knew he felt it too. Because that night, he didn't laugh. He didn't make a single sarcastic remark.
—What was that noise? —I finally asked, referring to the blast before the bats had flown out like demons.
—I don't know yet. But I don't like it. —His voice had grown lower, sharper.
There was something in his eyes that looked like guilt. As if protecting me was a burden he hadn't chosen but couldn't let go of either. I tried to change the subject before the fear settled in.
—Why me? —I asked, unable to hold it back.
He sighed.
—That's a long story. And if I told you, I doubt you'd sleep tonight.
—And who says I can sleep anyway?
He didn't answer. He just moved closer to the fire, tossed in a few more branches, and sat down again—closer to me this time.
—Sereniah... —he said my name slowly, and my heart trembled in my chest—. There are things you won't understand yet. But there's something I can tell you. I... am not what I seem.
—I figured that much —I said, trying to sound strong—. No one normal has eyes that light up like yours. I've heard stories of humans with strange abilities, people who look different from the rest.
He tensed, and for a second, I thought he'd stand up and walk away. But he didn't.
—The truth... is more complicated than you think.
—What are you? —I whispered—. Or what am I to you?
He looked at me again, straight into my eyes.
—What you are... what you mean... is bigger than you or me. And when you find out, nothing will ever be the same.
He inhaled and glanced up at the cave's ceiling, lost in thought. Then his gaze returned to the fire.
—What if I told you none of this was a coincidence? —Declan murmured, his eyes fixed on the flames—. What if I told you that you and I... were destined to meet? Everything else was an act.
My chest tightened. I didn't like those words. They were dangerous. Addictive. Like sweet wine that makes you forget it's poison.
—Are you always this mysterious with all your prisoners? —I asked, crossing my arms, using that tone I relied on when I felt like I might fall apart.
He turned his head slightly. His smile was slow, like a whisper.
—Only with the ones who interest me.
My cheeks burned before I could stop them. I turned away and pulled the blanket tighter, hating that even here, in a damp cave full of bats, he could make me feel... seen.
—Don't get it twisted —I added, staring at the wall—. This doesn't change anything. Just because I'm not screaming or hitting you doesn't mean I accept any of this.
—Of course not —he said playfully—. You still have several stages of anger to go through. I'm looking forward to seeing them all.
—Are you always this arrogant?
—No. Only when I'm... intrigued.
His voice had changed. Lower. Softer. Velvet. And damn it, it wasn't fair. He couldn't sound like that when I was at such a disadvantage.
I shifted uncomfortably, trying to put more distance between us, though there was already plenty. Still, I could feel him. Too close. As if his presence filled the air itself.
—What was that thing in your eyes? —I asked before thinking. Damn curiosity.
Silence.
I looked at him. He wasn't smiling anymore.
—What thing?
—Don't play with me. Your eyes... changed. For a second they had... light. Like...
I swallowed. He tilted his head slowly.
—Sometimes, when someone is in danger... they see what they need to see —he finally said, expressionless.
—Is that what I saw?
—Maybe. —A pause—. Maybe not.
I wanted to yell at him. Shake him. Or... touch his hair? I was definitely under some kind of spell. I clearly had two or three personalities roaming around in there.
Oh Lord.
—You're unbearable —I muttered.
—So are you. And yet, here we are. —He smiled—. The universe has a twisted sense of humor.
I pulled the blanket again, hating the way his words made me feel. As if everything I'd ever known was on pause, waiting for him to explain why I was here.
—Don't get cocky —I said finally, my voice heavy with sleep—. This doesn't mean I'll let you get away with this.
—Perfect. I don't like easy things anyway.
Bastard. I turned around, giving him my back, closing my eyes, pressing my lips together to keep any sound from escaping. None of this was right. And yet...
I felt more alive than ever.
—Sleep, Sereniah —he said from his side of the cave, his voice stripped of its usual smile—. Tomorrow... we go home.
And there it was again. That shadow in his tone. Like he knew something I didn't. Like everything I'd lived so far was just the prologue.
And still, I slept. Because deep down, even if I didn't understand it yet... I felt safe.