The ground felt as soft as breath as it shivered beneath my hands. The light around us wasn’t steady anymore. It rippled — like the world was made of water and someone had thrown a stone straight through its heart.
Thorn didn’t move at first. The faint glow from his skin flickered against the darkness, and his hand was still entangled with mine. His fire was no longer a blaze. He seemed to be saving the last of it, as it was quieter and smaller.
Even there was no sky, the air had the scent of rain.
"It's rewriting," I whispered.
He scowled. "What is?"
"Everything."
Around us, the shadows were shifting and taking shapes I almost recognized. The forest. The river. The place we first met —except wrong. The trees leaned too far. The light bent the wrong way. The air itself felt tired. Li
