Page 13 of Fallacies

“She does,” I assure him.

Pax nods, shifting as if he’s going to take a step forward, but then he looks to Callan, his lips parting to question another hypothetical scenario.

“Just go,” Callan urges him, and with one final exhale, Pax marches forward. We watch him disappear through the archway, swallowed by teal colored lights.

“He’s never been that nervous about anything,” Callan confesses. “Ever.”

I snort, a rather unladylike sound, and Callan smiles in response to it. “With all the love in the air, he’s got good odds.” Grabbing onto his arm for support, Callan helps me back onto the path. “Take me home.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, but he doesn’t hesitate to help me forward, holding my fingers curled around his bicep. “You’ll miss all the fun.”

You’re wasting time.

The memory of my father’s words sobers me instantly, and any amusement I felt vanishes. Suddenly, the forest around us is too dark. Too concealing. What I can see isn’t nearly as terrifying as what I can’t.

His presence is a cold feeling at the nape of my neck. A set of invisible eyes somewhere in the depthless wood, watching. Always watching.

My grip on Callan’s arm tightens as I smile up at him, conjuring up all the light I can muster. “I’ve had enough for one night.”

3

Callan

The screen door closes, its hinges retracting quietly, followed by the near-silent creak of the porch steps.

I’m smiling when I turn from the kitchen, glass of water in hand, mindful of my footsteps as I pad down the hallway. Using my shoulder to push the door open, I slip back into the bedroom. The room is dark save for a sliver of moonlight stretching across the foot of the bed.

In the dim lighting, I can see Lucina’s silhouette. She’s sleeping on her stomach, dark hair strewn out across the pillow, and her chest rises and falls slowly. Deeply.

She fell asleep shortly after we got home, like she couldn’t be unconscious fast enough. She claimed to be drunk but didn’t really seem to be. Her steps were straight, her words weren’t slurred, and she got ready for bed without stumbling.

I set the glass of water on her nightstand and crouch beside her, gently reaching out to brush a curl off her face. Her eyelids flutter, but they don’t open, and her breathing remains the same.

I never thought I’d be the type to watch someone as they slept, but there’s something so peaceful about watching her. In this state, she’s untroubled and still—something Lucina hasn’t been as of late.

I’m not sure what’s haunting her right now, but it had her in those woods. There was fear in her eyes when she turned and saw us. I wanted to know what it was, but it didn’t matter how many times I asked her what was wrong; she insisted there was nothing.

So, I decided I’d give her more time.

I brush my thumb over her cheekbone, soaking in this peaceful state of hers for just one more second.

But unfortunately, she’s also my initiate.

I stand, making my way to the foot of the bed, exhaling a deep breath before I yank the covers off.

Lucina pops up on her elbows, squinted eyes cutting to the window. She notes the pre-sunrise sky and flips over, blowing her hair out of her face. When she notices me standing here, blankets in hand, her stare sharpens.

I make a poor attempt at softening the blow. “Good morning.”

“What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” I wince, gesturing to the clothes I’ve pulled for her, “but I need you to get up.”

She throws a hand out towards the window. “Callan, the sky is black.”

“I know.”

Lucina stares blankly back at me for a moment. Then she huffs, reaching across the bed for the sheet.