LUKAS’S POV
Stars glittered cold above the rooftop, their light faint against the night’s black, the castle’s stone ledge cool under my palms as I leaned forward, my boots scuffing gravel, my breath puffing white. Selenea was downstairs, safe in her room, her red hair spilling over pillows, her chest rising slow—I’d left her after dinner, my voice light, mumbling about needing air, my hand brushing hers, her smile small and unsure. The plate I’d set before her, meat steaming, herbs sharp, sat heavy in my memory, her eyes searching mine, her fork untouched, her heart still tethered to Ryker’s betrayal, her love for me a flicker, not a flame. My chest ached, my leather jacket creaking as I shifted, my hands gripping the ledge, knuckles whitening, my mind a storm of guilt, love, and fate.
F
