CHAPTER 154: CHAPTER 154 THE PAST (3)

My throat tightened.

"You’re becoming more overprotective than my own mother," she said, laughing lightly, her voice was like silk soaked in warmth. "You act like I’m made of glass."

Young Damon bent forward and kissed her cheek. "Get some rest. I’ll be back before sunrise."

Waiting for a man who would never return.

"And if it’s already too late?"

Young me leaned down, resting his forehead against her temple. "They will."

Right ahead of me, a tree, once full of vitality and greenness, was now blackened and leafless. Its trunk was cracked open down the middle, oozing a slow, dark sap like blood. Around it, the earth was grayed, and brittle underfoot.

Her long lashes, her tired but hopeful eyes. The faint curve of a smile she didn’t fully feel. She was holding onto something that wasn’t real anymore, and neither of them knew it.

Something felt wrong.

I remembered how I lied to her.

I saw Ethan standing near the edge of the trees, frowning as he stared off into the distance.

More tears streamed down my face. ’I wish we had had a simple life, one that revolves around me and you.’

Young me hesitated. He smiled too quickly, almost too confidently.

Footsteps approached from behind as more scouts returned. Their armor was stained with soot. One of them knelt beside the corrupted roots and touched the ground with trembling fingers.

The scout hesitated. "Gone. We didn’t find any corpses or survivors."

"If they break it, they’ll answer to us."

I could already feel the ripple of something dark pulsing beneath the surface. It was only the beginning.

"I love you," she said.

He walked right past me, through me, and out of the tent. I stood frozen, staring at the woman who’d once been my world, still sitting there, brushing her hair again with a distant look in her eyes.

A few soldiers were up, sharpening their blades or inspecting their gear. Others were waking from sleep, their movements were sluggish, still half-awakened.

"Damon," she said softly, looking up at him in the mirror, "do you think the witches will really hold their word?"

I looked at her one last time.

I walked past them, following the path toward the edge of the lower hills where the witches had taken flight the day before. The ground changed the farther I went. The grass darkened, and the air carried the faint, bitter scent of scorched bark.

"Tell her the truth," I begged. "Warn her. Please, don’t leave her side tomorrow, please."

"It’s nothing," he said. "She just got on my nerves. I mean, a lot is happening."

"I’d burn every loaf just to see you walk in again."

"I just want our child to have something better," she whispered. "Not war or this endless fear."

"This is fae-blessed land," he whispered. "It’s not supposed to burn."

He paused.

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

My fists clenched at my sides. I remembered this moment. I remembered thinking it was just the beginning of us.

The young me smiled faintly. "All the time."

"Of course, I’ll be with you."

"Then I’ll stop it," he said simply.

"You’re everything I’ve ever wanted," she told him. "But something’s wrong, isn’t it? You’ve been on edge since the meeting with the fae."

"I promise."

"They didn’t," I said aloud, my voice barely holding steady. "They never had the chance."

I looked toward the heart of the forest.

Another scout came running from the east. "We found a village... or what used to be one. The houses are gone, only their ashes remain. The ground was vaporizing like something was draining the magic from the soil."

But I already knew he would.

I looked around. The land that had once breathed with natural magic now felt... quiet.

And then... he left.

"I’m sorry," I whispered.

"Anything."

Gods... I was such a fool.

"You are," he whispered. "You’re my glass."

Then, softly, "You promise?"

She laughed again, softer this time, and rested her hands over his.

"You were right," Beowulf’s voice echoed in my mind, low and grim. "But no one wanted to hear the truth."

I didn’t know it was already the end.

I didn’t know how much time had passed. One second, the candle in Emelia’s tent had flickered out. The next second, I was standing in the clearing just outside the Lycan camp.

Something had tainted the land.

"Promise me something?" she asked, placing her hand on his.

"Be here when I wake up. I want the first face our baby sees to be yours."

"I love you more," he whispered.

The sun hadn’t fully risen, but light stretched across the sky in soft streaks of pale gold and lavender. It was quiet, almost too quiet. There were no birds or insects chirping. Even the wind felt still.

She opened her eyes slowly, glancing at their reflection in the mirror. "Sometimes I wish we were just normal. Two strangers in a market, or neighbors." She laughed a little. "Maybe you’d be the baker’s son. I’d come by every morning for bread I don’t need."

She nodded slowly but didn’t believe him. I could see it in her eyes, the part of her that wanted to trust, fighting against the instinct that something wasn’t right.

He didn’t notice me, of course, none of them could see me.

He stood there with her, brushing her hair in calm, even strokes. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against his chest. The silence between them was warm and familiar. And I hated it... How peaceful they looked. How gentle the moment was, because I knew what came after.

"Do you ever wonder," she asked quietly, "what life would have been like if we weren’t born into all of this?"

I turned, my jaw clenched. I remembered this moment, I remembered how I tried to warn them, I remembered how they didn’t listen.

"What about the people?" someone asked.

More scouts returned, their voices overlapping in a rush of panic and confusion.