The Rise Of The Omega Luna

CHAPTER 79

The room swayed. Not with the measured rhythm of music, but with a sickly pulse, as though the tavern itself had learned to breathe and its lungs were filling too fast. Elise pressed her palms against the table, grounding herself against the wood’s sticky grain. The ale in her throat had turned to honey, too sweet, too thick, sticking to her chest as though it wanted to climb back up again.

She should have stopped after the first cup. She knew her limits. But limits had never been enough to save her.

Across from her, Luka watched. He leaned back, casual in posture, but his eyes betrayed him—dark, deliberate, studying every small falter in her breath. And Elise, blinking hard against the smears of lanternlight, saw someone else in his place.

Her heart stuttered.

“Kai,” she whispered.

Luka’s gaze sharpened. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, as if the name belonged to him. “Elise.”

Her breath caught. For weeks, Kai had spoken less and less, letting silence sit between them like a stranger at their table. She had wanted him to see her—truly see her—but his eyes always seemed to drift elsewhere. Away. Past her. Through her. And now, here he was, across from her, calling her name as though it was fragile in his mouth.

Her throat tightened. The haze of drink, the weight in her chest, the dull ringing in her ears—they all folded into one moment, one illusion too vivid to disbelieve.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” she asked, her voice raw.

“Doing what?” Luka’s tone was smooth, careful.

She laughed, sharp, broken. “Pretending I don’t exist. Pretending I’m not standing right in front of you. Every time I look at you, Kai, you’re somewhere else. You’re always… slipping away.”

Her words shook. The anger in them was thin, stretched over bone-deep hurt.

Luka tilted his head, his lips curving faintly. He could have corrected her. He could have broken the illusion. But he didn’t. “I never stopped seeing you,” he said quietly. “Even when you thought I had.”

Her eyes stung. She clenched her fists in her lap, nails biting into her palms. “Then why did you turn away? Why did you let me feel like I was drowning alone? Do you know what it’s like to close your eyes and still feel empty?”

“I know.” Luka’s voice was soft, almost tender. “I know because I’ve felt it too.”

Her head lifted. His face blurred, then sharpened again, edges shifting in the haze. Kai. It was Kai she saw, sitting with shadows carved across his jawline, his gaze heavy, haunted. She wanted to believe. Needed to.

“I dream about you,” Elise admitted, the words spilling before she could stop them. “Every night. I see your face. I hear your voice. You call me by another name—over and over. And when I wake, I can still feel your hands on me. I hate it. I hate needing something that isn’t there.”

The tremor in her voice cracked into silence.

Luka leaned closer, his shadow stretching over her. His hand brushed the rim of her cup, then withdrew. “You think I don’t dream of you too?” he asked, his tone low, coaxing. “You think I don’t miss the way your touch burned into me? Elise, I’ve missed it more than I can say.”

Her lips parted. A bitter laugh tried to escape, but dissolved into something closer to a sob. “You don’t act like it. Not anymore.”

His gaze softened, practiced. “That was my mistake. Pushing you away. Pretending I was stronger than I am. The truth is, I’ve been starving for you. Every glance. Every word. Every piece of you I can’t have.”

Elise swallowed hard, her pulse hammering. The room blurred further, voices fading into a hollow hum. All that remained was him. Kai—her Kai—finally saying the words she had needed, begged for in silence.

She closed her eyes, and the confession bled out of her, jagged and raw. “I’m so tired of being alone. I don’t know who I am anymore. Every time I close my eyes, I see fire, I see her face, I hear her calling me—another name, a name I don’t know. And I think… maybe that’s who I really am. Maybe I’m not even Elise anymore.”

Her hands trembled on the table. Luka’s gaze flicked down, studying the way her fingers clenched, how close she was to shattering. He leaned forward, lowering his voice into something that pressed against her like a hand.

“You’re mine,” he murmured. “That’s who you are. Don’t let anyone tell you different. You belong here—” his hand brushed hers lightly “—with me.”

Elise’s breath hitched. Her eyes opened, searching his face, desperate for certainty, for something solid to stand on. She found it—or thought she did—in the way his eyes did not waver, in the heat that lived in his words.

“You… you miss me?” she whispered.

“I never stopped.”

Her chest ached. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, hot and humiliating. She tried to laugh it off, to fold the ache into sarcasm, but her voice cracked instead. “Then why didn’t you say it sooner? Why did you leave me to rot in silence?”

Luka’s smile was faint, almost sorrowful. He leaned closer, close enough that she felt the warmth of his breath against her skin. “Because I was afraid,” he said. “Afraid that if I touched you again, I wouldn’t be able to let go.”

Her breath trembled. She shut her eyes against the spin of the room, against the tide that pulled her toward him.

When his hand brushed against hers again, she didn’t pull away.

The tavern noise thickened around them—laughter, shouting, the scrape of chairs. Yet none of it touched Elise. She was locked in the space between his words and her aching silence.

Her thoughts blurred, splitting into fragments: Kai’s silence, her dreams, the fire, the cold hands of the girl who whispered names that weren’t hers. And now, here—this man in front of her, saying the things she had needed most.

“I hate you,” she whispered suddenly, brokenly.

Luka stilled.

“I hate you for making me want this,” she said. “For disappearing when I needed you. For letting me burn alone. And now you say you miss me—now, when I’m already gone.”

Her voice splintered.

Luka reached across the table, his fingers curling lightly around her wrist. His touch was steady, grounding. “Then hate me,” he whispered. “Hate me as much as you want. Just don’t leave me. Don’t let go.”

Her eyes opened slowly, heavy with unshed tears. She saw him through the haze, through the spin, and in that fractured instant, she believed.

Kai.

Her Kai.

And Luka, seeing the surrender flicker across her expression, tightened his hold gently, sealing Becky’s trap with a smile no one else could see.