26. TWENTY SIX
TWENTY SIX
brOKEN MIRRORS
W hen I opened my eyes, a radiant pool of light filled the room.
Startled, I sat up and blinked in amazement as shadows receded, revealing a vision suspended in the middle of the room.
It depicted a large six-pointed star surrounded by three small, brightly illuminated moons. Somehow, I knew they were watching me.
As I stared, the image shimmered and flickered. A handsome, long-haired figure, perhaps straight out of a Greek myth was positioned on one knee below the circle of stars, framed by a shimmering blue and indigo sea that reflected the ethereal veil of light.
His beautifully sculpted face was in profile, gazing sublimely at the water, while his semi-transparent body displayed galaxies, nebulae, and constellations. In each hand, he held glowing orbs that resembled star sapphires .
A warm, sensual voice began to speak, echoing through the room. I froze.
“The Varethym Orders have until the three moons circle the Elora sky to break the spell. Until then, beware of a choice made in haste.” The words repeated in languages both familiar and strange, overlapping like ripples in water.
I looked around the room, wondering if I was dreaming or hallucinating, what was happening? My heart pounded. Everything felt too vivid, reminiscent of the visions I’d experienced before. A pressure built behind my eyes, as if something unseen was watching me.
Entranced by the vision, I got out of bed and cautiously approached.
The trio of moons broke away from the image and began to spin above me.
I smelled an odour reminiscent of impending rain and suddenly felt an intense energy drawing me toward the spinning moons.
My skin prickled, every hair rising as if the air itself had turned electric.
One of the moons faltered. Its light dimmed and then flared red.
A warning spread through the room. Heat rolled through me, sharp and sudden, like a hand closing around my spine.
Meanwhile, the cadence of the voice sped up until I could no longer distinguish it.
“Blood?” the voice echoed, dripping with a terrifying, ancient amusement.
“You will offer the pittance of your veins to the blood moon.
Bring me what is owed.”
My mark flared in response, a violent burn shooting up my arm and stealing my breath.
“I owe you nothing,” I retorted. “My life is my own.”
“Your life is borrowed. I do not ask for what is not owed.”
The trio of moons spun above me, and the air shifted to a metallic tang, while an intense energy tugged at me, pulling me toward them. The room swayed, as if gravity itself had shifted beneath my feet.
The voice quickened until the words blurred together. Then the man’s voice shifted. It was deep and mythical. My mark flared again as a pulse tore through the room, causing the moons to freeze mid-spin.
The vision flickered, the edges of the room warping. As the words faded, the vision began to shimmer and dim until only the afterimage of what looked like the Fool from a Tarot card remained. I looked at the Fool’s face, which showed a reflection of my own.
To my horror, my face began to age rapidly—my hair transforming from auburn to silver, then to grey, and finally platinum white. I gasped. Was this what the binding would cost me?
Enough. I grabbed a vase from the nightstand and hurled it at the mirror. The glass shattered, breaking into thousands of pieces and causing the vision to disappear.
***
The bedroom doors swung open. Cillian, dressed in a loose, unbuttoned shirt and breeches, stood in the doorway, watching me carefully. His messy appearance gave him an air of vulnerability, but it was brief. Did these half immortals even sleep, or was this simply a front?
He stepped inside, surveying the shattered glass, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me.
"I heard voices, Tilly. Who were you talking to?" His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the room, sniffing the air like an animal before casting me a questioning glance. My heart pounded.
He couldn’t know what I’d seen. He couldn’t know what I was thinking.
Fionn’s threat echoed in my skull:
I’ll bring him into line. A quick thought entered my mind, what would Fionn do to bring Cillian into line.
If they disciplined each other like that, what chance did I have?
So, I did my best to compose myself, to mask the anger raging inside me.
“What happened, Tilly? You look upset.”
Still haunted by the reflection of myself in the fool’s face, I unconsciously touched my hair and felt a sense of relief to see that it was still auburn.
Clearly, the vision was a warning, but a devastating one.
I looked up and met his gaze, forcing my voice to stay steady.
“I might ask the same of you since you just barged into my room.”
He approached, but I stepped back, shaking my head. "No. I don’t want your comfort.” His expression darkened, but he forced a smile.
“I heard a disruption and feared for your safety.”
"I hate this place. Everything about this place freaks me out. The pictures that hang on the walls, its creaking corridors…” Then I looked at the broken glass all over the floor. My voice trembled.
"I hate the mirrors and all the Goddamn paintings that hang everywhere in this Goddamned house. I don’t like any of them."
Cillian paused, his gaze intense.
"If the mirrors frighten you, I’ll have them all removed. Every single one, if that’s what it takes for you to feel safe."
His words were meant to comfort, but they only deepened my fear.
There was a need to control everything, to keep me close.
To do anything to show he was there to help.
And yet… the promise soothed something raw inside me.
I didn’t want to be alone. Not af ter what I’d seen.
Not after knowing Fionn was planning on killing me.
Not with the mirrors watching me in this room.
I tried to regain my posture, hiding my stress.
I couldn’t tell him. Not about the vision, not about the voices.
If Fionn was already contemplating ending me, revealing my doubts could only hurry my death.
No, I had to tread carefully. I couldn’t trust him, no matter how sincere his words seemed.
But maybe I could make him trust me. Maybe I could make him want to save me. Maybe that was the only way to survive.
“I had a terrible nightmare,” I said as I returned to the bed and curled up in a ball as though the covers would shield me. “It was so real I didn’t know where I was.”
Though the lie came easily, my fear was real. Every part of me trembled, but I clung to one truth. I couldn’t let them know how much I’d seen, how much I now understood. Secrecy was my only weapon, and I intended to use it to my advantage.
Cillian crossed the room, his presence unsettlingly quiet.
The scent of him, cold rain hit me before he even reached the bed.
I turned to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, his face filled with concern.
The loose fabric of his shirt slipped from his shoulder, revealing the pale, hard muscle beneath.
“Tilly,” he said softly.
“There’s nothing to fear.”
He didn't wait for an invitation. He moved, sliding into the space behind me until the heat of his chest pressed against my back. I should have bolted, but I was so cold.
Nothing to fear? The irony almost made me laugh.
My pulse quickened as his fingers drifted to my hair and teased the strands at my neck.
His touch sent a shiver down my spine, but I couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or fear or both.
My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch even as my mind screamed to pull away.
Was I that desperate for someone to protect me over the darkness ?
“What… what are you doing?” I murmured.
He moulded himself against me, his arm wrapping around my waist pulling me against his frame.
I could feel the steady, powerful thud of his heart through the thin linen of his shirt.
I realised the feeling of someone beside me was a great comfort.
I hated myself for it, but I tilted my head back, exposing my neck to him.
I missed my home and I didn’t want to be alone, with the voices, the mirrors.
I couldn’t help thinking if he stayed close…
maybe Fionn wouldn’t dare touch me. Maybe I could use this.
“Tilly, there’s nothing to be afraid of if you choose correctly. I promise.” His lips brushed my ear, his breath hot against my skin, igniting a strange warmth that both comforted and terrified me. Was this the curse working on me? Or was it him? Was there even a difference?
“I don’t want you to feel sad, Tilly,” he said, slowly brushing his lips against my neck, lingering just over my pulse point as if he could sense my desire.
He sounded so honest. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to think I had control. But the persistent voice in the back of my mind whispered, “Do you? Or is he playing a trick on you?” Paranoia swirled through me like smoke.
“I’m mentally exhausted, Cillian,” I said
“I don’t know what to think or do anymore.”
He trailed his lips along my neck in a series of slow, sensual kisses.
His fingers twirled through my hair, each touch against my skin jolting me.
I didn’t know whether to run or give in.
My mind was torn, but my heart was drowning in confusion.
My walls were crumbling, my logic unravelling, and I hated myself for it.
I hated him for it. But Gods, I needed to know one of the brothers didn’t want me dead after finding out Fionn’s intentions
He pulled me closer, his breath hot against my skin. “I don’t want you to feel sad, Tilly,” he murmured, his lips tracing a slow, searing path along my neck .
All thoughts and feelings seemed to disappear with his proximity. He pressed his lips against my ear.
“Everything is your choice, Tilly,” he whispered.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
I realised I didn’t want him to stop. In fact, everything about him heightened my desire and drew me closer. How could my feelings betray me like this?
Or was this exactly what the curse wanted, my surrender.
Cillian turned me toward him, his eyes intensely locking on mine. He was igniting a passion within me that had always lain dormant and resisting him was impossible. My will evaporated like the morning mist, and I wanted nothing more than to be cocooned by the emotion overwhelming me.
Cillian gently cupped my face, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone.
“In my world,” he said, voice low with a quiet intensity. “You are as beautiful as the brightest star in the Elora sky. I would follow your light into the darkness. If you bind to me”
My pulse skipped a beat as his words mesmerized me drawing me in.
“And I, my love, “He whispered, leaning closer until our foreheads met. “I would burn heaven itself to protect you.”
His breath warmed my lips as he spoke. Then softly, achingly, his lips found mine.
The kiss wasn’t rushed or ravenous. It was slow, with a gentleness that was igniting me from within. His breath mingled with mine, sweet and warm.
His chest pressed closer to mine, and the thrill shot through me despite the danger. Why wasn’t I fighting this harder? I just overheard Fionn and Seraphina, their cold voices debating my death as if I were a pawn in their twisted game. What was I doing here, giving myself to him ?
Then a voice rang out in my mind so strongly I almost leapt from Cillian’s arms. The urgent words of a woman resonated, filling me with a sense of dread.
“Stop being naive. You’re playing into his hands. This is how he lures us in”
The words rang too clear, too insistent to be my own faltering thoughts.
They frightened me enough to look above the pulse of my rising desire. A tendril of fear pricked my heart. I had to stop, but I couldn’t let my heart take control. I had to obey my instincts.
For a moment, Cillian’s expression was unreadable. Then his lips pressed into a thin line, disappointment flickering in his haunted eyes. But it wasn’t just disappointment, it was something darker. A shadow passed over his face, fleeting but unmistakable.
“I’m sorry if you think I’m making you feel this way. That’s the farthest thing from the truth.”
He pulled away and rose from the bed. His movements were deliberate, but the tension in his frame betrayed him.
“Your beauty is unbearable to me, Tilly.” His words sounded sweet, but they carried an edge.
“I wish you could look into my heart and know the truth. I'm truly lost in your presence.”
He sounded so genuine, so sincere. But wasn’t that the curse’s intention? To twist my desires, to cloud my judgment? If I gave in, would I even recognise myself when it was over? Would there even be a self-left to recognise?
“Tilly, know this. I will face the darkness for you… but Vareth will not spare those who refuse the bond.”
I watched him leave, the door clicking softly behind him. Only then did I let out a sigh of relief. My chest heaved with the weight of everything, fear and confusion, and the sickening realisation that I was utterly alone.
The voices returned, faint but insistent.
“Don’t let his charm fool you. He doesn’t love you.” Came the enchanting whispers.
I gripped the edge of the bed, my nails digging into the fabric. The image of the bones flashed in my mind again, stark and chilling. That wasn’t a vision—it was a reality I was destined for unless I played this game perfectly.
Cillian was my shield for now, his obsession my lifeline. But how long would that last and how far was I willing to go to keep myself alive? The curse was a shadow in both our minds now, twisting us, binding us. Shit, I was running out of time to figure out how to break free.
“Pull yourself together”, I said aloud. I straightened my spine. My heart might be in chaos, but my mind had to be clear. If they thought I was a fool, they were wrong. I was going to do anything to survive this, no matter what it took.