He changed suddenly. I wanted to reach out to him and get a clever comeback in his ears. Of course he feels nothing for me, I feel nothing too. I was walking towards him
Then — RINGGG.
A shrill ringtone shattered the stillness, echoing off the glass-dusted floor like a warning bell.
I flinched.
Zayden's head whipped toward it.
The phone.
My phone.
Sitting neatly on the nightstand.
Like it had always been there.
Like it hadn't just disappeared earlier while I begged the walls for a way out. This isn't real.
"I—I looked there. I checked—" I stammered, my voice thin.
"You did," Zayden muttered. His eyes had narrowed. "It wasn't there before."
The screen pulsed softly.
Call Incoming: "Lucia 🕯️❤️" I almost forgot I have my girlfriend too....but something felt off.
My stomach dropped. My throat closed.
Zayden saw the name and froze like something ancient had just touched the room.
"That's not her?" he asked. "Is it?"
I nodded. My fingers trembled as I reached for the phone.
"Put it on speaker," he said. "Now."
I answered with a hesitant swipe.
The voice that spilled out was silk over broken glass.
"My love," Lucia cooed. "You sound like you've seen a ghost." She never calls me her love, she was always too shy.
My skin prickled.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
"Nothing you wouldn't survive," she said sweetly. "I told you the mark would awaken when it was ready."
Suddenly, memories flooded. Things I could swear never happened clouded my mind. She's the real Lucia, but how?
"There was… a thing in the mirror, Lucia. Wearing my face. It tried to crawl out." I poured out.
Silence followed.
Then—
"Did it say anything to you?" she asked softly.
I blinked. "What?"
"Did it speak, Ezra?"
I hesitated.
"It said I'm where 'HE' left me. Babe, who's he?"
A slow inhale. Like she was savoring the words.
The air in the room shifted — colder, denser.
"Good," she said at last. "That means it remembers."
She ignored me totally but Zayden stepped forward sharply.
"You knew this would happen," he growled. "You let it happen."
Lucia laughed. Warm. Cruel. What's happening to my shy woman?
"Zayden. Sweet child. You really think you were the first to guard him? I have been guarding him even before the mark"
Something inside me shattered.
"Ezra," she purred, her voice coiling around my name like smoke, "I'll see you soon. We have… so much to talk about."
The line went dead.
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then—
The phone melted in my hand.
The screen warped. Plastic softened.
It dripped between my fingers like wax from a candle.
Gone.
Zayden stepped back slowly, one hand now resting on a blade sheathed at his hip.
One I hadn't seen before.
His eyes didn't glow anymore. They burned. He was very upset.
"You didn't tell me your girlfriend was one of them."
I looked up at him. Hollow. Scared.
"I didn't know she wasn't human."
Zayden didn't say anything at first.
Just stared at me like he was trying to figure out if I was still me.
I wasn't sure I was too.
"She's been watching me this whole time," I whispered, more to myself than him. "Since before the mark?"
The melted plastic still clung to my palm like guilt.
"She didn't love me," I said. "She studied me."
Zayden looked away. "You were never meant to love it be loved by anyone."
I blinked. "Excuse me?! what sort of shit is that?! Who're you to say that?!"
"That bond—whatever it was—was hers. Not yours."
"She didn't date you. She assigned herself to you. Like a handler."
I stepped back, out of sheer fear. "You make it sound like I'm a bomb."
He didn't answer.
Which made it worse. Am I a bomb?
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly freezing.
"Why do I feel like something just woke up inside me?"
Zayden's eyes flicked to my arm. To the mark. It was glowing again — pale and cold, like moonlight on ice.
"Because something did," he said quietly. "And now she knows it."
"Who is she, Zayden?" I said with tears falling from my cheeks. I wonder how pathetic I looked.
He hesitated.
"Lucia is not a woman. It's not even a 'she' Not really. It's a Weaver."
"A what?"
"One of the oldest kinds. She ties threads. Fate. Time. Identity. Reflection. People."
"And she tied herself to me?"
He nodded. "She didn't fall in love. She wrapped herself around you like thread on a needle. Preparing to stitch."
I didn't like that image. Not one bit.
"Stitch what?" I whispered.
Zayden looked at me — eyes dimmer, voice lower.
"A bridge."
"A bridge to what?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he held out a hand.
"We have to go. This room won't hold much longer."
"Go where?"
"Somewhere safer."
I didn't move.
"Somewhere not made of mirrors."