They ended up at Arielle's apartment, a cramped third-floor walk-up overlooking the busiest street in Starlight's east district. Pride flags lined the windows, some faded, some fresh. The hum of the threads was quieter here, though not gone.
Selene paced along her living room, coat trailing behind them like spilled ink. Their presence felt out of place among Arielle's clutter: stacks of photo prints, coffee mugs, and the warm, mundane glow of a single desk lamp.
Arielle leaned against her kitchen counter, arms crossed. "Are you going to tell me what that thing was? Or do you prefer vague warnings and dramatic exits?"
Selene's lips quirked, not quite a smile. "You saw it. You already know it's not natural. The weave's never had tethers like that. Something — or someone — is pulling at the city's bonds."
Arielle narrowed her eyes. "And you? What's your deal? You stroll in with your magic needle, cutting threads like it's no big deal. What are you, some kind of—"
"Threadweaver," Selene interrupted smoothly, spinning the silver needle between their fingers. "We control connections. Repair them, sever them, sometimes… redirect them. Most of us serve a coven. I don't."
"Because you're a rebel, or because they kicked you out?" Arielle shot back.
Selene tilted their head, as if the question amused them. "Does it matter? Either way, they'd love to see me gone. And now you've seen the weave, they'll love to see you gone too."
The words hit harder than Arielle expected. She tightened her grip on her coffee mug, staring at the faint threads trailing through the apartment. One looped lazily from her kitchen window to somewhere far beyond the city, glowing faintly pink. She didn't know what it connected to, but it pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
Selene stopped pacing. "You're not ordinary, Arielle. People can live their whole lives under this web without ever sensing it. But you… the threads don't just exist around you. They react to you."
She frowned. "React how?"
"Ever wonder why people open up to you so easily? Why strangers tell you secrets, lovers hold on a little tighter when you're near, arguments escalate faster around you?" Selene's eyes glimmered. "You stir bonds just by existing. The weave knows you."
Arielle's stomach turned. "That's… not comforting."
Selene stepped closer, holding the needle between them. Up close, it pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. "You need to decide, soon, if you're going to use this… connection. Or let the coven decide for you."
Arielle stared at the glowing tool. For a moment, she felt the hum of the threads in her bones, like a song only she could hear.