Chapter 5

Rhea

I didn’t go back to my room.

I sat on the floor between the shelves, knees pulled tight to my chest. The stone was cold, and the draft kept brushing my ankles, but I didn’t move.

I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t even want to think.

I just wanted to stop feeling like my skin didn’t fit.

Like my body belonged to someone else now.

Somewhere in the distance, the bell rang for evening meal. I stayed where I was.

No one would miss me.

Not anymore.

Not when I wasn’t invisible—but still unwanted.

I don’t know how long I stayed there. Long enough for the light through the windows to change. Long enough for the ache in my chest to dull into something heavy.

The door creaked.

I sat up fast, wiping my face with the back of my sleeve, even though there were no tears.

Footsteps. Not heavy. Careful.

I didn’t look up until the shadow crossed my boots.

Cassian.

His hair was a mess again. He looked like he hadn’t slept.

We stared at each other for a long moment.

He didn’t speak.

Neither did I.

I stood slowly, brushing dust off my skirt. “Did you get lost?”

His mouth twitched, but not in a smile. “I was looking for you.”

“Why?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know.”

I tried to step past him.

He moved in front of me.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did. In the library.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I was angry,” he went on. “At all of it. The bond. You. Myself. Mostly myself.”

I crossed my arms. “You said I ruined everything. That I should’ve stayed in the gutter.”

His jaw tightened. “I know.”

“You looked me in the eyes and said you hated me.”

“I know.”

I shook my head. “So why are you here?”

He looked down at the floor. “Because I think I said those things before I even knew what I meant. And now I’m not sure I do.”

That made me laugh. Not in a nice way.

“You don’t get to confuse me more than I already am.”

He stepped closer. “I’m trying—”

“To what? Feel something? Or to stop feeling it?”

He looked like he wanted to answer. But he didn’t.

I stared at him. “You loved Lyra.”

“Yes.”

“You were going to make her your Luna.”

He nodded. “I was.”

“And now I’m standing in her place.”

He didn’t speak.

“You think I wanted this?” I said, my voice cracking. “I didn’t choose this. I didn’t ask for the bond. I didn’t ask to take her place. I would’ve traded spots with her in a second if I could’ve.”

He looked away.

“I know,” he said quietly.

I swallowed. “Then stop acting like I did something wrong by breathing.”

Silence.

“I don’t hate you,” he said.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He exhaled hard. “I don’t know how to do this.”

I leaned back against the shelf. “Me neither.”

We stood there, not touching, not talking. Just breathing the same air like it might help.

Finally, I said, “I used to think the Moon Goddess only looked at people like Lyra. Pretty. Important. Meant for something.”

He looked at me then.

“And now?”

I shrugged. “Now I think She might have a cruel sense of humor.”

Cassian didn’t laugh. His eyes stayed on me, too still.

“Do you miss her?” I asked.

He didn’t lie. “Yes.”

I nodded. “Do you hate me for not being her?”

“No.”

His answer was quiet. Too fast to be dishonest.

I looked down at my hands.

“They all look at me like I’m some prize to win. But you… you look at me like I’m the thing that broke the game.”

He stepped forward again, close enough that I could see the scar near his jaw I’d never noticed before.

“You didn’t break anything,” he said. “You just… showed up. And now nothing fits the way it used to.”

We stood like that.

Too close.

Too quiet.

My heart was loud in my ears.

He reached for my hand—but didn’t take it. Just hovered there, like he didn’t know if he had the right.

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” he said.

“Then don’t.”

He nodded once.

Then he left.

And I stayed in the library, staring at the space where he’d been, trying to understand why my chest felt a little less heavy.

Not better.

Just… less.

Like something had shifted.

Not fixed.

Not healed.

But maybe… beginning to.