AEMIN
Please.
The cool wind brushes against my cheeks.
Come to me.
Then there's an uneven shift in the wind, which had been blowing so steadily up until now. My eyes fly open the moment two cold fingertips grip my chin.
Arlen.
"Aemin, I don't like this look in your eyes."
"H-Hi," I stutter, without meaning to. She gives me a slight nod, fingers gliding across my jaw before pulling away. Every movement she makes is grace itself.
She already knows what I want. I can see it in her.
"I thought I already told you no."
"My sister. I don't know how to explain this," I start, fidgeting with my hands. "But she had dreams. Dreams where she's somehow connected herself to him. She can talk to him— see where he is, through his eyes."
"What?"
"I know," I reply, at her stunned look. "It shoul
