Chapter 1 #2
So, I whisper a thank you, and I walk away.
I spend most of my time in the next two weeks in the woods. Every morning, I drag myself out of bed at dawn and run, pushing a little further each day. Then, I chug enough protein to maybe build whatever muscle I can in the limited time … or at least just gain back some of the weight I’ve lost.
In the afternoons, I train with the daggers. I build my own makeshift target out of hay and old wood, mark the ground, and start hurling blades like my life depends on it.
Not-so-spoiler: I miss. A lot.
The first two days are honestly embarrassing. I lose more energy picking daggers off the ground than actually throwing them. But by day five, something clicks. I finally get the hang of it, and the blades start landing.
So I decide to challenge myself by moving further back.
I consider archery, too, but then I figure maybe it’s smarter to get really good at one thing, instead of being just okay at both.
Quality over quantity.
Fingers crossed it will save my life.
Because today is the day the seer predicted the eclipse.
I make sure to eat—who knows what the Fae eat, anyway—and I let myself have all my favourite snacks, just in case I never get to have them again. Everything is prepared, on the off chance I actually get selected for the trials.
I write letters to my parents and my brother, Noah. They have been so worried since Declan died. I can’t bring myself to say goodbye to them in person, because I’d probably end up ugly crying, and they’d all know something is seriously wrong.
I’m not stupid. I know something is seriously wrong with me.
But they can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.
The problem is, I don’t know when this eclipse is meant to happen.
If it actually is.
So, I sit in the woods, waiting for the sky to do a trick.
Minutes tick by. Then hours.
The sun is setting.
I was told the sky would bleed, but so far all I can see are streaks of orange and pink.
Well, shit.
Should have known the seer was full of shit.
The woods are now completely dark, stars flickering above—just like what the seer will see when I pay her a visit tomorrow with a big, fat punch to the face.
There goes my only hope of existing.
I drag my feet home, slow and miserable, not even caring if a wolf jumps out and mauls me to death on the way. And to add insult to injury: rain starts to pour down a minute into the walk.
Great.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.
By the time I reach home, I’m drenched and shaking. All I want is a very hot bath—but the lights are already on inside. I lost count of how many times I checked that everything was off this morning, so unless Declan is back to haunt me for failing the mission …
It’s Noah.
And he’s holding the letter I left for him.
So, yeah. Today could actually get so much worse.
“What the fuck, Cassie?” my brother asks, his voice is low, furious.
I clamp my lips together, tight, dripping in the doorway and shaking even harder. Noah is twenty-six, three years older than me, and he usually treats me like a little princess—unless he’s angry.
It’s rare, but when he is, I usually hide.
That’s not really an option right now.
“What is this?” he snaps, stepping closer and waving the letter. “A goodbye note? Joining the Fae trials? What the hell were you thinking!?”
I bite my bottom lip. It takes me a minute to finally open my mouth. “It doesn’t matter. It’s never going to happen anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter?” Noah’s voice spikes, sharp enough to make me flinch. His eyes soften as he realises how loud he is, but he barrels on. “You’re talking about going to the Court of the Fallen and bringing back your dead boyfriend. Cass, what is wrong with you?”
What is wrong with me?
I stare at him, rage flooding through me like fire under my skin. “My boyfriend is dead—that’s what’s wrong with me!”
Now Noah is the one flinching.
“Everyone carried on as if nothing happened—even his family, his sister, for gods’ sakes!” I snap, finally letting out the emotions I’ve buried for the past month and a half. “I don’t understand how. Why is it so easy for them? Why isn’t anyone trying, like me?!”
Noah’s expression shifts. Anger drains from his face, replaced by that look—the same quiet, sad one everyone’s been giving me since it happened.
I can’t bear it anymore.
I just can’t.
“Cass … it’s not easy for anyone,” Noah mutters, pulling me into his arms, not caring that I’m soaking wet.
“I only knew Declan for half a year, and it still wasn’t easy for me.
It sure as hell wasn’t for his family. But it’s the only way we know to move forward.
” He pulls back enough to meet my eyes. “And I know you don’t want to hear this …
but you’re going to have to try to let go, too. ”
“But what if I don’t want to …” I sniffle, my voice threatening to break.
“I know you don’t, and no one’s asking you to forget about him.” My brother sighs, brushing the raindrops from my cheek. “Just … take it one day at a time.”
That’s easier said than done.
I don’t know how to.
It’s impossible for me to reply to that, so I just bury my face in Noah’s chest, quietly letting the tears run free, breaking in his arms.
This is the first time I’ve cried in two weeks. I never let myself go there. My focus has only been on the training—but now that’s all gone, too.
I’ve been desperately clinging to a thin, invisible thread of hope.
He’s really gone.
And I can’t bring him back.
It takes me a while to calm down again. Only when my lips start turning blue from the cold do I finally stop and drag myself into the bath to warm up. Noah’s still there when I come out, as if he didn’t trust I wouldn’t drown myself in the tub.
“I’m going to burn these,” he says, tossing both letters into the fireplace. The flames eat the papers in seconds. “Get some rest, Cass. I’ll come back to check on you tomorrow.”
“I’m not a kid, you know.”
“Yeah, I do.” He reaches for his jacket. “You’re worse.”
I scoff.
“I mean it. Get some rest,” Noah says from the doorway. I hold on to my bathrobe like a lifeline. “You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks, brother.” I frown, but he smiles.
He doesn’t say anything else, just steps forward to press a kiss on my forehead before making his way out.
On one hand, I’m grateful to him for giving me a new purpose in life: to kick his ass.
On the other hand, I’m sad—sad that he has to do this, checking in on me, making sure I’m still breathing.
Sad that I’m such a burden to everyone.
I make myself a cup of tea and sit by the window, staring out at the yellow moon, shining just bright enough to catch bats fluttering from tree to tree, stealing whatever fruits like thieves.
At some point, I close my eyes for a moment, and the moon is no longer gold when I open them again.
It’s bleeding—crimson at the edges, partly swallowed by shadow.
I jump up from my chair.
Holy shit.
The seer didn’t lie.
She just never specified it was going to be a lunar eclipse.