Page 141 of Echoes of the Banshee

But it doesn’t change the questions. They’re louder now, insistent, and I can’t ignore them any longer. I have to know.

Maybe I’ll be right, and I’ll still have ninety-nine things to panic about instead of a hundred.

It’s reckless. It’s stupid. But I’m drowning, and right now, recklessness feels better than silence. The kiss wouldn’t have felt like that if he wasn’t my mate. Right?

“Are shadows the only magic you have?” I ask, my voice steady, but my heart pounding. Screw it. I can’t keep pretending. I need to know.

He tilts his head, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Are you a banshee?” I blurt out before I can talk myself out of it.

Mavrik jerks away, frowning at me like I’ve slapped him. “What? No!”

The sharpness of it stings more than it should.

I wince. Okay, terrible start.

But the words are already tumbling, and I can’t shove them back inside.

“I’m looking for a banshee named Lazarus. It’s… it’s life or death for me. Is that you?”

I don’t say please.

I don’t say I’m scared.

I don’t say I don’t want to be alone anymore.

But maybe he hears it anyway.

He meets my gaze for a long moment, his eyes flickering with something I can’t quite place. And then, he gives me a sad smile. The kind that stings.

“No.”

His words sink deep into my chest. It’s not the shock of a broken heart, but the cold realization that all my reasoning, all the facts I held onto, have fallen apart.

“No,” I repeat quietly, more to myself than to him, as if I can somehow make the truth softer, less harsh. The word echoes, a dull ache that makes everything feel impossibly distant.

Tears come then, but they don’t come with the fury I expect. They fall slowly, quietly, as if my body is acknowledging the loss without needing to scream.

Before I can pull myself together, Mavrik is there, his arms around me, pulling me close. I let him, though it doesn’t bring the relief I thought it would. His presence is steady, but it’s not enough to undo what’s been revealed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice thick with an emotion I can’t quite place.

I don’t have the strength to push him away, but I also can’t hold onto him like I want to. He’s not Lazlo. He’s my friend, and though I appreciate him, it’s not enough to fill the emptiness inside me.

He doesn’t let go, though. His arms stay around me, firm and steady. “I wish I could fix this,” he says, voice strained. “I wish I could be what you need.”

But he can’t. That’s the hardest part of all.

Still a hundred problems.

But he’s not the solution, and that’s the truth I have to face.

He walks me to my dorm, and I let myself fall.

Mavrik

The Perks of Chasing Fireflies