Novel & Cerita Goodbye Under The Northern Lights

“You said we were touring Sweden. This feels like we’re fleeing to the Arctic.” Zhedya looked up from his tablet, where a detailed map was open. He gave Ian a soft, dreamy smile. “The most beautiful sights are often in the most remote places,” he said, his voice warm. “I want to show you the Northern Lights. Kiruna is perfect, secluded and romantic.” But his eyes, Ian noticed, weren’t on him. They were fixed on the map. They were tracing lines, measuring distances. They looked like the eyes of the soldier in the photo, not a lover planning a getaway.

"Think that wraps this up? You need a wake-up call, or you'll never learn." He slung an arm around Derek and Morgan, storming out. Since I was a minor without parental consent, the cremation booking evaporated like smoke. Defeated, I slunk home to pack my meager belongings before they could trash them. While I scavenged in solitude, my so-called family was having a good time at the amusement park.

Wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves in a way that felt almost sinister. And underneath the sound of the wind, she could hear footsteps. Disjointed and uneven, those footsteps kept following behind her. She glanced around, and it was darkness everywhere. The shadows stretched long across the ground, as if something were lurking. Nissa felt a chill crawl up her spine. She quickened her pace. But just as she turned a corner, a gang of thugs closed in on her from behind. She froze, heart pounding, and stumbled backward a few steps. The leader, a man with dyed blond hair, rubbed his hands together with a greasy grin. "Hey, pretty girl. How about keeping us company tonight?"

The pack lands are calm tonight. The wind carries the scent of pine and earth, and the forest hums quietly, as if holding its breath for something it knows is coming but isn’t yet ready to reveal. I leave the pack house behind me, careful to avoid the lingering shadows of patrols, and make my way toward the small clearing near the stream. Moonlight dappled the rocks and grass, turning the night into silver and charcoal.

On the night before the college entrance exam, my boyfriend misdialed and called my number to confess his feelings to the school beauty. "Adele, you promised that if I willingly skipped the exam for you, you'd be my girlfriend. "That idiot Sadie already gave up her university early admission spot for me. Tomorrow, I'll be standing right outside the testing center with a massive bouquet of flowers waiting for you. I'm going to prove to you once and for all that my heart is yours!" In the background, a rowdy chorus of his friends cheered him on. "Trading a top scorer for the prettiest girl in school. You're a legend, Mark!" "When you two officially get together, you better throw a party!"

“After this, no more delays. Tonight. Private ceremony. Just us. Then I’m knotting you until you can’t walk.” Tears slipped down my cheeks—happy, relieved, free. “Yes. A thousand goodbyes to everything before. Hello to you.” He kissed them away. “A thousand goodbyes.” We stayed locked on the table, hearts hammering in sync, while the city hummed outside and the bond sang its final, unbreakable note. I was Alisa Moretti. I was Kael Draven’s mate. And I had never been more free.

The ring felt slightly loose against my skin. “I’ll take it to get resized first thing tomorrow,” he promised quickly. “There’s no need,” I said, looking down at our hands. “Fingers always thin out during the winter. It’ll fit perfectly by the time summer comes around.” He stared down at my hand, then looked back up at the massive curtain of green light dancing across the Arctic sky, a sudden, radiant smile breaking across his face. “You used to say that the northern lights you spent a lifetime chasing were never meant for you, and there was no need to chase them anymore.”

It was the national holiday when my husband, Damon Fuchs, married another woman behind my back in Kanna. The woman standing beside him in the video was my best friend, Mila Kirk. The page boy was the boy Mila had claimed was her nephew—the child I had raised for years. Now he was calling her "Mommy" and Damon "Daddy." Behind them, my own parents and mother-in-law sat in the front row, clapping the loudest. It was only then that I understood: the so-called vacation, Mila's supposed nephew—those were all lies. I projected the wedding video onto the living room TV, letting it play on loop for three days until they finally returned. Seeing what was on TV, Mila grabbed Damon's arm and cried,

As the waltz concluded to roaring applause, Grim guided Elodie through glass doors onto the private balcony overlooking the frozen mountain valley. The midnight air was crisp and clear, filled with the soft scent of pine woodsmoke and mountain snow. Above them, the Northern Lights danced in brilliant waves of emerald and magenta, bathing the balcony in an ethereal, romantic glow. Grim wrapped his broad arms around Elodie's waist from behind, pulling her flush against his chest, shielding her from the cool breeze with his heavy coat.

A week before the wedding, I took my dad to the hospital where my fiancé worked for an upper endoscopy under sedation. Dad had gotten up extra early to shave and put on a gleaming white shirt and a new pair of shoes. Clutching his numbered ticket, he asked me quietly, "If Yale's busy, we don't need to see him. We shouldn't hold him up." I patted his arm. "Don't worry. I made an appointment. It wouldn't be holding him up." He'd been up since five without anything to eat. By eleven, his legs were trembling from standing. I texted Yale Xavier. [Dad can barely stand anymore. How many people are ahead of us?] It took him a long time to reply. [Wait your turn like everyone else.] Another hour pass