The tension in the room grew heavier as Pollux’s trembling hand gently yet firmly rested on my shoulder. His yellow eyes glimmered as I looked into them, full of emotions he might have been holding back.
For a moment, his vulnerability broke through the strong exterior he had always maintained. The strength I had always associated with him seemed to waver, and the way he looked at me—like he was memorizing every detail—sent a chill down my spine.
“Luna Godiva,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “Do you believe in destiny?”
My breath caught in my throat. I hated conversations that revolved around inevitable tragedy. My fingers instinctively gripped his arm, desperate to anchor him here, to stop him from slipping into the abyss his words hinted at.
“Stop it,” I whispered, my voice t
