Chapter 4

Sulien

Like mist across the ocean, she appeared out of nowhere. Golden blonde hair splayed out around her head, a halo in the breaking dawn. She was staring up at us, and once again, I was lost in the brilliant blue of her eyes.

As perfect as the last time I had seen her. Even more so.

Airan spoke first, but my heart was hammering too loudly inside my chest for me to fully catch his words. I replied without thought right before Lyrielle passed out. Our Lyrielle. A ghost we were never meant to see again.

Airan stayed stiff beside her. His fingers twitched. Once, twice. Jaw clenched. Quiet fury brewed behind his dark brows. There was something else. Something dark and dangerous. I knew the look well.

“We need to move her,” I whispered, shattering the stagnant silence around us.

Airan jerked back, black hair whipping sideways with the motion. “I will not touch her,” he barely got out through a throat I knew was constricting.

She wasn’t supposed to be here. Wasn’t supposed to-

“We can’t just leave her, Airan.”

“She needs to go back to them. She needs to. You know what will happen if she stays here.”

My eyes travelled up and down her body. Blood pooled in shallow cuts. There were bruises across her perfectly plump skin. It was clear the forest had taken its toll on her. Maybe even the people we had left her with. She had endured so much already. Leaving her here would be a crime. My heart wouldn’t allow it.

My head buzzed as my palms started sweating. Above us, the wind picked up its pace, my power flooding every vein in my body. Someone had done this to her. Hurt her.

“And you can see as clear as me that where she came from no longer wants her,” I spat and knelt beside the woman I loved more than anything. For a split second, I saw her blood on my hands and felt my head spin. My stomach rolled.

Airan caught the flare in my power around us and sighed.

“Let me take her,” he offered and knelt beside her as well. There was hesitation in every move he made.

“What about your refusal to touch her?” I spat, feeling venom pool into my words.

Airan sighed again. A braid beside his temple swung forward, brushing against his throat as he shook his head. “You’re right. Whatever may be happening, we cannot leave her here. We owe her at least this decency.”

The moment his fingers brushed her skin, I was instantly jealous. It clawed at my sides. Poisoned my mind. But I swallowed it down and watched as my twin hoisted her into his arms, as effortlessly as the first time he had done it.

She was voluptuous as ever but never looked as small as when she was in either of our arms.

Airan began walking back to the pack, every muscle in his body tense.

My eyes burned as I watched them in front of me, walking away.

The breeze from earlier swept across the path she had fumbled through and back out to the ocean, clearing our scent from any unwanted guests. When I thought the scent was thoroughly erased, I followed after them, biting back all of the emotions rising in my chest.

“Will she stay here from now on?” I asked, trailing behind them a pace or two.

“She can’t and you know that. We will have her betrothed to another before the next full moon. Jurian will ensure it is a compatible match. Clearly our last choice in mates was an ill one. But there is no alternative. We agreed upon this, Sulien. It is for the best.” His voice held no hint of affection or emotion. As if she wasn’t our entire world.

“I know, brother, I just-“

“You just want to be selfish, Sulien. This isn’t a negotiation. She will be back with her kind before the next full moon, and we will ensure no one can find us again. End of discussion!” He growled, causing birds to scatter out of the surrounding trees.

Embers flickered low in my stomach, but I bit back my words.

I knew the reason well enough. Had caused her pain more times than I could count. I was her demise. So was Airan. And I knew my brother was tired to the bone of this endless cycle.

This was our last hope. Our only hope. If this didn’t work, there would be nothing left of our humanity by the end of this ordeal. For gods, we were surprisingly attached to our humanity.

“Then let us hope that none of her memories come up before then. You know how stubborn she gets when they surface,” I said with a chuckle.

For the first time in over 18 years, he chuckled as well, the memory of our Lyrielle bringing some semblance of joy, even if only for a moment.

“You had to practically pry her from your body when she began to remember. And I…” He trailed off, the happiness dying on his tongue.

He was right. She couldn’t stay, no matter how much I ached for her. Longed to touch her. Be with her again, as we had always been.

“Before the full moon, then,” I whispered, and clasped my hands behind my back.