CHAPTER THREE
Where the World Split Open
I didn't fall.
That was the first strange thing I noticed.
The ground vanished beneath my feet, yet there was no rush of air, no scream tearing from my throat. Instead, it felt like being held—suspended in something thick and unseen, like the space between heartbeats.
Light cracked through the darkness.
Silver. Violet. Deep red.
I gasped, clutching at nothing, and then suddenly—my feet hit solid ground.
I stumbled forward, barely catching myself before falling. My breath came out in sharp bursts as I looked around, my mind scrambling to understand what my eyes were seeing.
The street was gone.
In its place stood a vast, open courtyard made of black stone that shimmered faintly, as if alive. Towering structures rose around us, sharp and elegant, their windows glowing softly like watchful eyes. The sky above was darker than any night I'd known, threaded with strange constellations that seemed to move when I wasn't looking.
I turned in a slow circle.
"Where… are we?" I whispered.
"This is the edge," the boy said behind me. "The place between."
I spun around.
He stood a few steps away, posture tense, like he was ready to move at the slightest threat. Up close, he looked even more unreal—his pale hair catching the strange light, his eyes reflecting the sky like polished glass.
"You brought me here," I said.
"I didn't mean to," he replied quietly. "You were pulled."
"By what?"
His gaze softened, just slightly. "By what you are."
That answer settled badly in my chest.
Before I could ask anything else, a low hum rippled through the air. The stone beneath our feet glowed faintly, symbols rising to the surface like veins of light.
The boy stiffened.
"We can't stay here long," he said. "If they sense you—"
"Who is they?" I demanded.
He hesitated.
"My kind."
The words sent a chill through me.
"You're one of them," I said slowly.
"Yes."
He didn't deny it. Didn't flinch.
"I won't hurt you," he added quickly, as if the thought alone pained him. "I swear it."
"I believe you," I said, surprising us both.
His eyes searched my face, like he was trying to understand why.
"You shouldn't," he murmured. "Trusting me is dangerous."
The air shifted again—heavier this time. Distant footsteps echoed, though no one was in sight.
His expression darkened.
"They're close."
Fear crawled up my spine. "What happens if they find me?"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Humans don't cross into this world and leave unchanged."
"And me?"
His gaze dropped to my hand, where the faint glow still lingered beneath my skin.
"You were never meant to stay human," he said.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Tell me your name," I whispered.
He looked at me like the name itself was a secret too dangerous to give.
"Lucien," he said at last. "Lucien Vale."
The sound of it settled into me—heavy, permanent.
The hum grew louder.
Shadows gathered at the far end of the courtyard.
Lucien met my eyes, something fierce and protective burning beneath his calm.
"Stay close," he said.
And for the first time, I realized—
Whatever this world was…
It already knew me.