Selis stood at the window, rain streaking the glass in uneven lines, her breath clouding the pane. Her hair, once meticulous, hung wild around her flushed face. Dressed in a faded t-shirt and boxers that still smelled faintly of Vael, she pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from screaming. The pain bloomed in her chest, raw and poisonous. She kept replaying the image of Vael’s hands on Kavi—how could he look at her so hungrily, when Selis had given him everything?

She spun, sharp with need for action, and stalked through the narrow corridor to Vael. He sat hunched at his desk, unshaven, hair mussed, shoulders squared in one of his old fisherman sweaters. His jaw clenched as she entered, eyes cold but glittering. For a moment, neither moved. The silence pressed between them, charged and electric.

“You’re just going to sit there?” Selis’s voice cracked. “After all this?”

Vael’s gaze flicked up, dark lashes veiling unreadable thoughts. “What, Selis? You want me to beg?”

A bitter laugh shivered on her lips. She paced the cramped room, arms wrapped tight around herself, fingers digging into her bare skin. “I want you to care. I want this to mean something.” Her chin wobbled; she hated it, hated herself for needing him.

He got up slowly, hands shoved in his pockets, looming behind her. “Careful. You’re about to make me the villain again.” There was a flicker—regret or calculation, she couldn’t tell. He caught her wrist, thumb circling her pulse. “You don’t want to know who I am when I don’t care.”

She jerked free, nearly in tears. “Maybe I already do.”

Outside, thunder rolled close. Selis trembled, suddenly so small. Vael let her go, bitterness twisting his features. He retreated, back straight, lips pressed thin—a wall she couldn’t breach tonight, no matter how much she ached.

Downstairs, Mirael’s laughter spilled from the kitchen, brittle as glass. Her lipstick was immaculate, smile weapon-sharp as she cornered Selis near the back staircase. Mirael’s fingers brushed Selis’s arm in mock concern. “You look tired. Is everything… stable?” Her eyes glinted with dangerous delight.

Selis tried to step past, but Mirael’s hand tightened, nails grazing her skin. “Back away from Vael, Selis—or the town council finds out exactly how you torched your last career.”

Selis’s lips parted in shock. Her secret—dragged into the damp air, threat and shame intermingling. Mirael’s smile was a knife. For the first time, Selis saw how easily she could lose not just Vael, but everything.

Up in her room, Kavi threw clothes into a battered bag with trembling hands. Her oversized hoodie swallowed her frame, sleeves hiding the marks on her wrists. She paused at the mirror, eyes rimmed red, hair a wild dark halo. Shame prickled at her skin; she could still hear Selis’s words from days before—liar, traitor, thief.

She almost left, but then Drevik’s heavy knocks echoed on the door. He stood in the hall, jacket soaked, cheeks ruddy from rain, hands shoving damp curls out of his eyes. He stared, silent, searching her face for any sign she’d let him in.

Kavi hesitated, then stepped back. “You shouldn’t have come.” Her voice was small, barely more than a whisper.

He shrugged, defiant. “You’re not leaving alone. Not this time.” His voice rumbled low, but softer than she'd ever heard it. He dared a step closer, gaze falling to her hidden scars, jaw tight with worry and—something like hope.

She melted just enough to let him wrap her in his arms. The hug was hesitant at first—then fierce, her head buried in his chest as she let out a single, broken sob. He didn’t promise anything, but the way his hand threaded through her hair, the way his own breath shuddered against her crown, spoke of a vow unspoken.

Down the corridor, Vael moved restlessly, haunted by old ghosts. He stopped outside the supply closet, knuckles white against the door. For a moment, he considered knocking on Kavi’s door, begging forgiveness—or perhaps just to remind himself he could still be wanted. But he didn’t. Instead he slumped back into the dark, alone but pretending it was a choice.

In the silence of Drevik’s small room, the thunder faded. Kavi sat on the edge of the bed, knees tucked up, eyes fixed on the battered duffel. Drevik knelt beside her, something awkward and gentle in the way he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

“We can leave tonight,” he offered, voice hoarse. “It won’t fix it, but—maybe it’ll stop the hurting for a while.”

She nodded, jaw set, desperate for escape. She took his hand, held on tight, and for once—let herself be chosen.

Meanwhile, Vael, unable to sleep, rifled through his few belongings, the floor creaking beneath his bare feet. His fingers brushed against an old, battered journal. The cover was stained with salt and time.

Except it was missing.

Across the hallway, Drevik sat in the gloom, reading by the light of his phone’s screen. His thumb traced Vael’s panicked scrawl on the first page: a confession, a night of violence, the lighthouse drenched in blood and secrecy.

Outside, the wind howled. Inside, secrets threatened to unravel everything.

To be continued...