️ POV: Lucian Mareis ️

The rain hadn’t stopped since they returned. It drummed softly against the glass windows of Nareth’s apartment, a rhythm that felt almost like a heartbeat — quiet, steady, relentless.

Lucian sat by the window, legs drawn up, wrapped in one of Nareth’s old hoodies. The air smelled faintly of cedar and coffee, but beneath it, he could still feel the cold of the Veil clinging to his skin.

His reflection stared back at him from the window. He waited for it to move, to speak — to prove he wasn’t alone in his body again.

But it stayed still.

He didn’t know if that made him relieved or terrified.

Behind him, Nareth’s footsteps were slow and careful, as though one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace between them.

“Lucian,” Nareth said softly, setting down a mug beside him. “Drink something. You haven’t eaten since morning.”

Lucian smiled faintly. “Neither have you.”

“I’m not the one who…” Nareth stopped, his voice cracking slightly. “You were gone for hours. I thought I lost you again.”

Lucian turned his head. “You didn’t. I’m here.”

But as he reached for the mug, his hand shook. Coffee rippled over the rim — a tremor he couldn’t control.

Nareth crouched beside him, his hand hovering close but not touching. “You’re not okay.”

Lucian laughed weakly. “I don’t even know who I am anymore, Nareth.”

“Then let me remind you,” Nareth whispered. “Whoever you were before, whatever the Veil showed — it doesn’t matter. You’re mine now.”

The words weren’t possessive; they were desperate. A promise and a plea tangled together.

Lucian stared at him for a long moment before whispering back, “Then don’t let me disappear again.”

And Nareth didn’t answer — he just pulled him close, holding him so tightly it hurt.

Outside, the rain kept falling. Inside, silence filled the space where fear once lived.

---

POV: Daelen Pryce

The punching bag swayed violently in front of him, the rhythm of his fists echoing through the empty gym.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Each strike landed harder than the last. Sweat slid down his temple. His knuckles were raw, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t know how to stop.

> “You hurt him because you couldn’t love yourself.”

The Veil’s words wouldn’t leave his head.

He’d thought revenge would give him peace. Instead, it left a hole too deep to climb out of.

“Irian,” he whispered between breaths. “Why did it have to be you?”

Because Irian had been kind. Too kind. Because he hadn’t fought back when Daelen pushed him away. Because even when Daelen’s anger turned cruel, Irian had looked at him with those soft, heartbreaking eyes — as if he still believed there was something worth saving.

Daelen slammed his fist one last time into the bag and stepped back, chest heaving. The sound of the door creaking open made him freeze.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Irian said quietly, leaning against the doorframe.

Daelen turned, his voice low. “You shouldn’t be.”

Irian smiled, faint but unafraid. “You say that every time.”

Daelen looked away. “You shouldn’t keep forgiving me.”

“I’m not forgiving you,” Irian said. “I’m choosing you.”

The words hit harder than any punch.

Daelen’s throat tightened. “Even after everything I did?”

Irian nodded once. “Because what the Veil showed me wasn’t that you broke me, Daelen. It showed me that I never stopped wanting to understand you.”

He took a slow step closer, until their breaths mingled.

Daelen’s walls cracked — the last of them. He dropped his gloves and whispered, “Then don’t try to understand me. Just… stay.”

Irian’s hand brushed his cheek, gentle and sure. “Always.”

And for the first time since the curse began, Daelen didn’t feel haunted by his reflection — only by the truth that maybe, finally, love could be enough to break it.