𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 | 𝟏𝟖+

xlii. dawn.

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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑫.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The bedroom door to Morrow's room swings open on creaking hinges, and yet, all Elowen can do is stare at the were-wyng, his body growing cold in sheets that once belonged to them. The image burns itself into her vision, engraving itself in every painted shadow.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He's dead.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎His soul vanished from this earth.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Gone.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She collapses to her knees, unable to think straight as she heaves in pure agony. The invisible string that connects her to him snaps into two, severing a second heartbeat that always pounded in the echoes of her soul.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎If only she could turn back time.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎If only she could be the one to protect him from the blight like he'd always protected her.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎This... this hurts like a sword to her heart, plunging into her organs over and over and over again.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A pair of worn hands clasps onto her shoulder, turning her body away from the scene of Morrow towards something else, anything else.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn kneels next to her, his silver eyes wide and alert. His lips move, although Elowen can't comprehend the sound. Does she even want to? No amount of pity or condolences will mend the ache expanding inside of her chest. It's growing like a giant monster, consuming every fibre and vein and twisting them into something nauseating.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎How could this happen to Morrow? Why does this world have to be so cruel that it can take lives without letting them have the chance to experience them in full? When her inner creature searches down their bond, there's no wolf there to respond. There's only the fraying edge of a tether that once was, a silence that's deafening.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn takes her cheeks in his hands, tilting her gaze upwards and forcing her to stare at him. She doesn't want to see the ancient. He's a reminder of the evils roaming Aelethia, because it seems he's tied to everything. He knows about the blight, about the fall of Reovell, and her mother. He never came back to Solara when she wanted her child to know her father. Perhaps he even knew how he could spare his life.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎There's so many wrongs, and for a moment, she thought that mating with Morrow would be something right.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Instead, look where that got her. The thought opens the chasm in her chest wider, so wide that her ribs begin to throb.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Elowen?" Thorn murmurs. "Are you listening to me?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I can't..."