Page 72 of Fallacies

Not bothering with the lights, I follow her down the hall, moonlight shining across the hardwoods as I approach the bedroom.

As soon as I appear in the doorway, Lucina spins around to face me. “When do you think she’ll wake up?” she asks.

Shrugging, I step inside, tossing my jacket onto the foot of the bed. “I’m not sure. I’ve never witnessed anyone use an Eldral before.”

“But do you think minutes or hours?” she asks again, her voice a bit frantic. “Days maybe?” When I don’t respond, Lucina begins fumbling with her zipper, growing visibly frustrated.

I push her hand away, gripping her hip and turning her so her back is to me. Moving her hair over her shoulder, I wordlessly drag the zipper down her spine.

She’s fallen still, but her breathing is still rapid, the pulse at the base of her neck fluttering, and I don’t think it’s a response to my touch.

I think it’s fear.

Moving my mouth to her ear, I watch her swallow. “What are you hiding from me?”

Lucina spins out of my hold, putting space between us in a way that feels…wrong. Like she’s distancing herself. She’s breaking my heart, and she hasn’t even spoken yet.

I was hoping I was wrong—that she’d never keep anything from me—but her reaction proves the opposite, and suddenly, I feel sick.

“Callan,” Lucina says my name as if it’s the start of a sentence she doesn’t have the courage to finish, her voice cracking around both syllables.

I take a step towards her, my stomach twisting as I hold my hands out. “Lucina, you can tell me anything.”

She takes a step back.

I freeze, watching her eyes well with tears.

“I…” she starts, and I can tell the words are there. I can practically see them trying to form on her tongue. But then her mouth slams shut, her lips pressing together before she can convince herself to say it.

“You…what?” I’ve never felt farther away from her than I do right now. She’s oceans away. And every step I take towards her, she takes one back. “Lucina,” I plead with her, “you’re scaring me.”

It’s as if my confession made her realize her own. “I’m afraid,” she admits.

“Afraid to tell me?”

She shakes her head, a tear slipping over her cheek. “Afraid you’ll never look at me the same.”

I think my heart stops beating, dread spilling into my gut, but as quickly as the feeling comes on, I shove it away. I deny the prospect entirely because there is nothing she could say that would change the way I view her. Nothing.

“Chaos, that will never happen.” I grab her hands, desperately needing the contact of her skin, and she lets me take them. “I promise.”

Lucina’s gaze falls to our laced fingers.

“Eyes. Please.”

She shakes her head, and alarm bells are blaring now. They’re getting harder to ignore. I push past my apprehension, my worry, my fear, and charge forward anyway. “I love you,” I tell her.

“Callan.”

“I do. There’s nothing you could say that would change that. I’d love you if I were blind. I’d love you if you were broken. I’d love you if you were just a memory, or even a⁠—”

When Lucina finally looks up at me, the haunted look in her eyes steals my breath away.

“Rogue?” she whispers.

17

Lucina