If I Don’t Belong To Eden, I Don’t Want To Belong At All
if i don’t belong to eden, i don’t want to belong at all
“Andrik!” A woman screams. “Where are you?”
The beast takes off through the trees toward her voice, tearing through the frozen undergrowth, his massive limbs eating the distance with a single-minded focus.
If Sage was Micah, then who the hell is Andrik?
The memory yanks me forward, dragging me through the trees.
The beast moves like it owns the forest until he finds her at the edge of the clearing.
She stumbles toward him, sobbing his name—Andrik, Andrik—the beast catches her with infinite gentleness.
He tells her their cabin is compromised and he’s taking her somewhere safe.
She leans into him, and the memory drags me along helplessly to a little cottage lit up like something from a Christmas card.
Once inside, he gets her out of her wet clothes and draws her a bath.
He paces the entire time she’s in the water, wearing a groove into the floorboards.
When she steps out of the bathroom, heat is rolling off her.
She cries out, clutching her stomach as she doubles over.
The beast is at her side instantly, easing her to the bed.
“Make it stop,” she begs. “Please, Andrik, I can’t—I can’t breathe.”
“I’m here. I’ve got you,” he rasps. “Let me help you.” His hands settle on her shoulders, and she lets out a small whimper. “I’m going to try and ease some of the tension,” he says quietly. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
His huge hands move over her body in slow strokes while she writhes and begs—
I can’t watch this.
That’s us. That body bending over another woman, it’s the soul I share. And every cell of whatever I’m made of exists solely for the green-eyed woman waiting for me back in the meadow.
I claw at the edges of the memory, trying to rip myself free, but the tether holds. I am trapped in this nightmare, forced to witness the devastating infidelity of my own soul.
I gag.
That’s not me. That can’t be me, I would never—not her, not with anyone—there’s only ever been—
I cover my ears, trying to block out the sounds.
Ashán. Sage’s horrified voice calls from somewhere far away. Ashán, breathe. It wasn’t—it’s not us—
I dry-heave again.
The wall next to me explodes, timber and amber light detonating inward. Standing there is another beast, his ice-blue eyes blazing. They’re identical. Down to the last piece of fur.
The two beasts hit each other like mountains colliding. They tear into each other with claws and fangs, their white fur already drenched with blood. The woman screams and drags a sheet over herself. I want to go to her.
“You wore my skin,” one of them snarls, driving the other into a wall. “You crawled into my life like a parasite. And now you will die like one.”
Mid-blow, one of the beast’s faces slips, his white fur rippling to reveal Micah’s exhausted brown eyes.
“Shapeshifter,” the other beast growls, blood dripping from his claws. “He’s wearing my thrahking* face, Lumi.”
“Lumi—” the other beast’s voice cracks. “Please, I just wanted to—”
“Get away from her!” He lunges. They collide again, but the rhythm has changed. Micah is weakening, his movements growing heavy and sluggish.
“You touched her.” He roars. “You dared to wear my face and lay your hands on my mate?” His claws sink in, and Micah chokes.
“NO!” I scream.
“Andrik, stop!” the woman sobs.
Andrik hesitates, and that hesitation is all Micah needs. He twists, driving an elbow into Andrik’s wounded ribs and wrenches himself free, stumbling through the shattered wall.
“This isn’t—” He coughs, spitting blood into the snow. “This isn’t over. She’s mine.”
He disappears into the night, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
The cottage starts to dissolve around me, and I’m dropped into an open clearing in the early morning, snow drifting lazily over my shadow.
In the center of the clearing, there’s a ring of blue flames.
Lumi and Andrik are wrapped around each other inside of it, her small body curled into his.
There’s a black stripe running down the front of his white fur that wasn’t there before.
“Why am I here?” I scream. “I don’t understand.”
Far in the distance, something drags itself toward the firelight, hauling itself inch by inch across the frozen ground, leaving a long smear of blood in the snow.
He’s not dead. Gods, he’s still alive.
With a heavy sweep of his arm, Andrik catches Lumi across the waist and tucks her behind him. The fur along his nape bristles, claws extending to a lethal length.
“Lumi. Please,” Micah rasps. “Look at me. Really look at me.”
Andrik takes a step forward, and a warning growl rings through the air. Micah doesn’t even flinch. He just keeps stumbling forward, dragging his ruined body toward the fire.
“Mark?” She chokes.
“I’m not Mark,” he rasps. “I’m Micah. I’ve always been Micah.”
“You—” She struggles to get the words out. “You’ve been—”
“I was protecting you.” He takes another swaying step, and Andrik snarls. “I saw you in the snow, Lumi. All those years ago. And I knew. I knew you were supposed to be mine. Not his.”
“You’re delusional,” Andrik spits.
“No!” Micah shouts, a wet, rattling sound filling the clearing. “I loved her first. I watched over her. I kept her safe before you even knew she existed!”
“You terrorized her,” Andrik roars, the fire lapping higher in response to his fury.
“I saved her!” A fresh spray of blood spills from Micah’s mouth. “From falling—” He collapses to his knees.
Andrik steps toward him, claws raised.
“Wait,” she screams.
“Lumi—”
“Just—give me a second. I need to know.” She moves around the shield of Andrik’s body, stepping slowly until she’s standing directly in front of Micah.
“Why?” she whispers. “Why me? Why go through all of this… for me?”
“I fell for you the moment I saw you. It was this bone-deep pull—a gravity I couldn’t fight, a resonance I didn’t understand.
I knew we were meant to be together, but my brother...
” He chokes. “He didn’t understand. Mark had always been twisted and unpredictable—an unfortunate side-effect of our upbringing—but he was my twin.
My other half. I thought I could contain him.
I thought I could keep his darkness from touching you. ”
Lumi’s brow furrows.
“I started watching you,” he continues, his voice fading in and out. “It felt innocent at first. I just wanted to know you. Where you went. What kind of coffee you liked. The way you laughed when you thought no one was looking. I was guarding you, Lumi. Even back then.”
She takes a step toward him.
“Lumi, stay back,” Andrik growls, his hand twitching at his side.
Micah doesn’t take his eyes off her.
“But the need grew too loud. I wanted to be with you, but I wanted you to choose me. Mark… Mark wasn’t so patient.
He saw me struggling and wanted to end it.
” He sways, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth.
“He went to your apartment that night, on New Year’s Eve.
He went to take you—to bring you to me like some sick, twisted gift.
A reward for all the times I’d fixed his messes. ”
Lumi shakes her head violently, covering her ears with both hands.
Where is this going? What am I missing?
“He didn’t know Anna would be there,” Micah whispers, tears slipping free. “He injected you to keep you quiet… but Anna woke up. She fought, and he panicked.”
His eyes fall to the ground.
“I didn’t know, Lumi. I swear I didn’t know.
” Tears pour from his eyes. “When I found out—when he told me what happened—it was too late. I couldn’t—” He sobs.
“I had to protect you from him. From anyone who might hurt you. I couldn’t let you go.
But I couldn’t have you either. Not after—” He collapses forward, and she moves instinctively, catching him before his face hits the ground.
Micah’s head tips to the sky.
“Anya...” he whispers. “I understand now. Please tell her... I’m sorry.”
Lumi’s brows knit together. “Who?” She asks. “Micah, Anna is dead. You know that.”
The trees begin to sway around us.
“No.” A small, peaceful smile spreads across his face, blood staining his teeth.
“She’s not gone. She’s... waiting. Just on the other side of this forest. I’ll find her.
I’ll make it right this time.” His eyes glaze over.
“A—Anya...” he stutters, his eyes unfocused.
“Anna... I’ll find you. Even in the meadow. Even in... Eden.”
No. No. Please no.
The riddle unfolds behind my eyes. Every line I couldn’t make sense of is suddenly black and white.
It all comes down to her.
Ashán. Sage reaches for me through the dark. Just stay with me. Therael is here now; we’re going to pull you out.
If I don’t belong to Eden, I don’t want to belong at all. It’s the last thought I have before a swirl of golden leaves begins to spin around me.