The forest had grown quieter since nightfall, but not safer.
Alina sat with her back against a dying tree, legs bent, hands clasped tightly around her knees. Her breathing had steadied, but her thoughts were chaos—twisting inwards, gnawing at her certainty.
She could still feel the memory pressed behind her eyes—the Mirror Glade, the petals rising, the kiss she hadn't wanted to see. The kiss that lingered like it had already happened.
And Selene.
Always Selene.
Across from her, the witch sat calm and alert, head tilted toward the wind. They had barely spoken since leaving the glade. But the tether buzzed between them like a held breath, unwilling to break.
Alina's voice was raw when she finally said, "Why do you look at me like that?"
Selene didn't move. "Like what?"
"Like you know me."
"I do," Selene said simply. "Not the way your Order taught. The way your soul reveals."
Alina scoffed. "You speak like riddles make you wise."
Selene turned, her violet eyes meeting hers. "And you wear your anger like armor. But it's not enough, is it?"
Alina shot to her feet. "Don't pretend you care what happens to me."
"I don't," Selene said. "But the bond does. And it's stronger than both of us."
Alina's jaw clenched. Her instincts screamed for distance, for control, for silence. But the curse pulsed at her chest like it wanted her to admit something—something dangerous.
"You cursed me," she whispered. "You chained me to this... this madness."
"I gave us time," Selene said, rising. "Time to understand what's coming."
"What's coming?"
"An end. To all of it. To the Orders. The Covens. The wars."
Alina frowned. "You sound like a fanatic."
Selene took a slow step toward her. "I sound like someone who's tired of burying people for other people's gods."
They stood only a foot apart now. The curse shimmered between them—subtle, but undeniable. Not chains. A thread.
Selene's voice softened. "I know you feel it."
Alina's voice caught. "I feel hate."
"And longing," Selene said. "You can lie to yourself. But not to me. Not anymore."
Alina struck her. Not hard. Not soft. A palm against skin, meant to silence.
Selene blinked, surprised—but not angry.
She stepped closer.
"You can hit me every day," she whispered. "It won't stop what's growing between us."
Alina stood frozen. Her hand trembled.
Selene reached up, gently touched Alina's wrist. "You dreamed of me."
Alina pulled back as if burned. "You're in my head."
"No," Selene said. "I'm in your fate."
Silence fell again. And in it, the truth pulsed, too loud to ignore.
They were no longer just enemies.
They were bound.
And the war inside Alina had only just begun.