(POV: Lucian & Nareth)

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POV: Lucian Mareis

He woke to the smell of rain.

The curtains were half open, letting morning light spill across the floor in fractured gold. For a moment, he didn’t move—afraid of what he might see when he looked in the mirror again.

But Nareth’s hand was there, steady and warm, resting against his wrist.

“Don’t,” Nareth said quietly, as if reading his mind. “You’re safe right now.”

Lucian turned his head. Nareth sat at the edge of the bed, eyes rimmed red from exhaustion, still in yesterday’s clothes.

“You didn’t sleep,” Lucian murmured.

Nareth smiled faintly. “Neither did you.”

Lucian tried to return it, but his chest felt too heavy. Every time he blinked, he saw flashes—the mirror shattering, a voice whispering in the dark. You took my place.

His throat tightened. “What if it’s true?”

Nareth frowned. “What?”

“What if the Lucian you knew…” He hesitated, searching for words that didn’t sound insane. “What if he’s gone, and I’m something else?”

Nareth reached out before he could pull away, his fingers pressing lightly against Lucian’s jaw, grounding him. “You’re here. You’re breathing. That’s all I need to know.”

“But what if—”

“Then I’ll still stay.”

Lucian froze.

It wasn’t a promise. It was a confession.

Nareth’s voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “Even if you’re not the same person… I’ll still love what’s left of you.”

Something broke inside Lucian then—softly, silently. Not pain. Not fear. Just a deep, aching gratitude.

But as Nareth brushed his thumb against his cheek, Lucian felt it again.

That faint, electric hum beneath his skin. That other presence stirring, just out of sight.

His pulse quickened. “Nareth…”

Nareth’s thumb stilled. “What is it?”

Lucian’s voice trembled. “He’s listening.”

The mirror across the room rippled—just once, like a breath.

And both of them turned toward it at the same time.

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POV: Nareth Sol

The air changed—cold, sharp, thick with something unseen.

He didn’t think. Instinct kicked in. Nareth pulled Lucian behind him, eyes fixed on the mirror. The surface had gone dark, almost liquid, like a shadow bleeding through glass.

A voice slipped out, low and mocking. You think he belongs to you?

Lucian’s hand clutched his arm, shaking. “Don’t answer it—please—”

But Nareth couldn’t look away. “Who are you?”

The voice laughed softly. I’m what’s missing. What he stole to survive.

Then the reflection moved—not mirroring them, but leaning forward, closer, until a hand pressed against the other side of the glass.

Lucian gasped. “Stop—don’t—”

The glass cracked. Once. Twice.

And then—silence.

Nareth pulled Lucian tight against him, both of them breathing hard, the air humming with leftover energy.

When it was finally still, he whispered, “Whatever that thing is, it’s not taking you from me.”

Lucian trembled in his arms, his voice breaking. “What if it already has?”

Nareth didn’t answer. He just held him tighter, his heart pounding with one truth he couldn’t say out loud.

He would rather burn than lose him again.