Chapter Twenty
Lucas
The meeting room felt stifling, though the air was cool. We all gathered around the large, battered table, the faces of our ragtag group illuminated by the flickering light of an old lantern. Plans were being laid out, strategies drawn. Callum led the discussion with his usual sharpness, his voice steady despite the stakes.
But my mind kept drifting to Annika. She sat beside me, and there was somethingabout her, something I couldn’t quite place but suspected was sadness. I couldn’t shake the thought that this plan, this fight to break the shifters’ hold, might be the last thing we did together. If we succeeded, when we succeeded, she’d go. Back to her world. Back to the life she’d left behind.
The thought lodged itself in my chest like a shard of ice.
“We’ll split into teams,” Callum was saying. “One will cause a distraction at the outer gates, draw the majority of the shifters’ forces away. The other will infiltrate the heart of their operations. Free the prisoners. Destroy their supplies. And Lucas...” His gaze met mine. “You and Annika will lead that infiltration.”
Annika looked up at me then, her lips parting slightly as though she hadn’t expected it. I gave her a small nod, trying to keep my face neutral, but inside, I was anything but calm. Being paired with her meant keeping her close, meant protecting her, but it also brought the bittersweet reminder that she didn’t belong here. She wasn’t mine to keep.
“And if this works?” Lena’s voice broke through my thoughts. “What then?”
“Then we get everyone out,” Callum replied. “We scatter, regroup in safer territory, and start over. Build something better. Those who want to return… are free to do so.”
Annika shifted in her seat beside me, her hand brushing mine as she adjusted her position. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent a jolt through me. I clenched my fists beneath the table, focusing on Callum’s words, though they blurred as my thoughts spiraled.
When the meeting wrapped up, I lingered as the others filtered out, talking quietly amongst themselves. Annika stayed too, her gaze fixed on the plans still spread out on the table.
“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
She glanced at me, her lips curving into a small, wistful smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking.”
I wanted to ask what she was thinking about. Wanted to tell her she didn’t have to go, that there was a place for her here, with me. But I didn’t. Because I knew what her answer would be. I could feel the weight of her resolve even as she stood beside me.
As the room cleared, I stayed behind, watching Annika as she hovered near the table, her fingers tracing the edges of the maps we’d spread out. Her brow was furrowed, her thoughts distant. I wanted to say something, to pull her back to the moment, but the weight in her expression kept me silent. Finally, she spoke.
“I feel... torn,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
I leaned against the edge of the table, crossing my arms. “Torn how?”
She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with uncertainty. “This fight, this place... It’s started to feel like it’s mine, like I’m supposed to be here. But I can’t stop thinking about my mother. I don’t know what’s happened to her, if she’s okay or not. And if she’s not...” Her voice cracked slightly, and she took a deep breath. “I’d never forgive myself.”
Her pain hit me harder than I expected, the ache in her voice tugging at something deep inside me. I wanted to tell her it was okay to stay, that it wasn’t selfish to let herself be part of something bigger, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t be the one to ask her to stay… not when I knew what it would cost her.
“You’re doing what you can,” I said instead. “And when this is over, you’ll go back and do what you need to do.”
She gave a small, rueful laugh, shaking her head. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Nothing about this is simple.” The words came out sharper than I intended, but it was the truth. None of it was easy. Not the fight, not her place in it, not the way I felt every time I looked at her.
She fell silent for a moment, staring at the map again as though it held the answers she was searching for. “Do you believe in soulmates?” she asked suddenly, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
The question took me off guard. I studied her, trying to gauge where it had come from. “I… I think so,” I admitted. “Why?”
She shrugged, but her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the table, betraying her nervousness. “I guess I’m just wondering... if there’s someone out there you’re supposed to find, someone who... fits you in a way no one else can. Do you think that’s real?”
I could hear the vulnerability in her voice, the way she was trying not to say too much. I thought about how to answer, my chest tightening at the unspoken weight of her words.
“I think,” I said slowly, “if two people find each other, and it feels like the world shifts around them, like everything before and after them doesn’t make sense without that moment, then maybe that’s what a soulmate is.”
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, and there was something unguarded in her gaze, something that made it hard to breathe. I wanted to reach for her, to close the space between us, but I didn’t. Instead, I let the silence stretch, waiting for her to say something, anything.
“I don’t know what I believe,” she murmured, looking away. “But... sometimes I wonder if it’s possible to belong in two places at once. To feel pulled in two directions and not know which one is right.”
I swallowed hard, my hands clenching at my sides. “Maybe it’s not about which one is right,” I said. “Maybe it’s about which one feels like home.”
Her breath caught, and for a fleeting second, I thought she might say something, that she might admit what I couldn’t bring myself to ask. But she didn’t. Instead, she turned her head, her face half-hidden by the fall of her hair.
I could feel it in the air between us, everything we weren’t saying. Everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. Because as much as I wanted her to stay, to fight beside me, to choose this life over the one she left behind, I wouldn’t ask her to. That choice had to be hers.
The silence between us felt fragile, like the slightest sound could shatter it. Annika's gaze was fixed on the map again, but her thoughts were miles away. I could see it in the way her fingers absently traced patterns on the table. I was about to say something, to pull her back to the moment, when the door swung open with a sharp creak.
Callum stepped in, his boots heavy against the floor. “Lucas—” he started, but then he froze, his gaze flickering between us. He wasn’t exactly subtle, his eyebrows shooting up as if he’d walked in on something scandalous.
Annika straightened immediately, stepping back from the table as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. I clenched my jaw, glaring at Callum for his timing.
“What is it, Callum?” I asked, my tone sharp enough to make him flinch slightly.
He opened his mouth, then hesitated, his eyes darting between us again.
“Uh... I can come back in a minute,” he said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. His smirk was barely hidden, though, and I could feel the weight of his assumptions hanging in the air.
“No, you’re already here,” I said, biting back my irritation. “Spit it out.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just thought I’d give you two another moment. Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever this is.” He grinned, and I resisted the urge to throw something at him.
“Callum,” I warned, my voice low.
“Fine, fine,” he said quickly, backing toward the door. “I’ll be right outside. Take your time.” He gave us a mock salute and slipped out, leaving the door ajar behind him.
Annika let out a shaky laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Well, that wasn’t awkward at all.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “He’s got the subtlety of a wrecking ball.”
Her smile was faint but genuine, and it eased some of the tension in my chest. For a moment, we just stood there, the silence settling around us again. Whatever fragile connection we’d been teetering on before was still there.
“Should we—?” she started, gesturing toward the door.
I nodded, my lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah. Let’s see what the interruption was about.”
As Annika stepped past me toward the door, I hesitated, my hand brushing against the edge of the table. She didn’t look back, but the way her shoulders tensed told me she felt the weight of my gaze.
Callum’s timing had been irritating, but maybe it was for the best. I didn’t trust myself to keep the conversation light. Not when every moment with her felt like sand slipping through an hourglass I had no power to stop.
I followed her out, finding Callum leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed, his usual smirk plastered on his face.
“Did I ruin a moment?” he teased, his eyes darting between us.
“Not the time, Callum,” I said, my tone clipped as I moved past him.
Annika shot him a half-smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice steady despite the tension still lingering between us.
Callum straightened up, the teasing edge in his demeanor fading. “We’ve got a lead. A big one. But it’s risky.”
My attention snapped to him fully. “What kind of lead?”
“Information on a shifter stronghold,” he said, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves might have ears. “It’s where they’re holding more prisoners. We’re talking dozens, maybe more.”
Annika sucked in a sharp breath beside me. “How reliable is this information?” she asked, surprising everyone.
Callum tilted his head. “Reliable enough to act. But it’s heavily guarded. If we’re going to make a move, it has to be soon and precise. We won’t get another chance.”
I could feel Annika’s tension, the way her breath hitched slightly at the prospect. I knew what she was thinking before she said it.
“We have to help them,” she said, her voice resolute.
Callum nodded, glancing at me. “Figured you’d say that. But it’s not going to be easy. This isn’t like the last raid. They’ll be expecting something like this.”
“Then we’ll make them regret expecting us,” I said firmly, already calculating the risks in my head. “Gather everyone. We’ll plan this down to the second.”
Callum gave a quick nod and disappeared down the hall, leaving us alone again. Annika lingered, her fingers brushing the wall as if grounding herself. I stepped closer, the space between us charged but quiet.
“You don’t have to come,” I said softly, though the thought of her not being there sent a sharp pang through me.
She turned to me, her eyes fierce. “Yes, I do.”
There was no arguing with her when she looked like that, like nothing in the world could shake her. And damn if it didn’t make me want to shield her from every danger we were about to face.
“Then we’ll do this together,” I said, my voice low but steady.
For a brief moment, I thought about what it would mean to lose her… not to the fight, but to the pull of her life back home. And I hated how selfish I felt, wishing she could just stay, even if it wasn’t fair to ask.
But for now, she was here. And I’d do whatever it took to make sure that didn’t change.