Morning arrived like a stranger I hadn't invited.
The pale light creeping through my curtains seemed to hum, a low vibration I felt more than heard.
At first I blamed the radiator.
Then I realized the sound came from inside me.
I sat up quickly, heart pounding.
The feather on my nightstand glowed faintly, a cool silver shimmer that painted the room in moonlight even though the sun was already up.
As I reached for it, warmth surged into my palm—soft, insistent, almost like a pulse.
A whisper followed.
Not a word exactly—more the shape of one, a thought brushing the edge of my mind in a voice that was both smoke and honey.
Golden. Familiar.
Adrian.
I yanked my hand back. "No," I said aloud, because denial was the only weapon I had.
The warmth faded a little, but the sense of him lingered like the afterimage of a flashbulb.
---
Coffee. I needed coffee.
I stumbled into the kitchen and started a pot, measuring grounds with hands that trembled only slightly.
The smell of brewing beans usually steadied me; today it sharpened every nerve instead.
Adrian's words from last night unspooled through my head, slow and deliberate: their love story for you is a cage.
I wanted to dismiss them.
I wanted to believe Elior and the Concord had my best interest at heart.
But hadn't the Concord's messenger appeared unasked?
Hadn't Elior admitted he served them?
Freedom or fate—did either choice really belong to me?
The coffee finished with a hiss.
I poured a cup and let it go cold between my palms.
---
Across town, Elior stood on the rooftop of the café, the early wind tugging at his dark hair.
A green shimmer rippled over his skin like the northern lights—subtle but unmistakable to anyone who could see magic.
He'd felt it: a thread of gold brushing the edge of his senses.
Adrian's signature.
Too close.
He closed his eyes and followed the resonance.
It led to me.
Pippin darted into view, wings a quicksilver blur. "You felt it too?"
"Yes." Elior's voice was low, dangerous.
"That's no casual whisper," the sprite said, perching on a chimney cap. "He's linking."
"He's touching her dreams," Elior replied. "That isn't supposed to be possible."
Pippin tilted his tiny head. "Not unless she lets him."
The truth of that stung.
Elior didn't answer.
A vow bound him not to intrude on a mortal's freedom—but that vow had never felt so heavy.
---
A knock rattled my apartment door.
I froze, coffee halfway to my lips.
Three quick taps, then silence.
I peeked through the peephole.
Elior.
Relief and irritation warred inside me. I opened the door before he could speak.
"You felt it," I said.
His eyes—soft green edged with worry—met mine. "Yes."
"You stayed away."
"I had to," he said simply. "You deserve the right to meet every choice without my interference."
Something in the quiet honesty of his voice loosened a knot in my chest.
"Come in," I said, stepping aside. "We need to talk."
---
The feather pulsed brighter the moment he crossed the threshold, as if acknowledging him.
Silver light pooled across the hardwood, wrapping his boots in a pale glow.
Elior's gaze dropped to the nightstand. "It's stronger," he murmured.
"It started before dawn," I said. "I heard…something. I think it was him."
He moved closer, not quite touching me. "Adrian linked to you. The feather made it possible."
"I didn't invite him."
"You don't have to. The feather responds to potential—it opened a door."
The feather brightened, as if to confirm.
A quiet tremor ran through the air between us.
---
Elior raised a hand, green light threading between his fingers.
"I can strengthen the wards," he said, voice low, "but it will dim the connection. You might not sense him at all."
A part of me wanted that—silence, normalcy, no golden whispers in the dark.
Another part bristled.
"No," I said, sharper than I intended.
He blinked. "Lila—"
"I'm not trading one kind of control for another. Not Adrian's. Not the Concord's. Not even yours."
The words hung like a blade.
Elior lowered his hand slowly, the green shimmer fading. "Then we find another way," he said at last. "Together."
The tension in the room softened, but it didn't disappear.
Something larger than either of us hovered in the quiet.
---
The feather brightened again, silver rays mingling with the faint green glow that still lingered around Elior's skin.
For a breathless moment the two lights twined—silver and emerald, heartbeats overlapping—until the air itself seemed to hum.
Outside, beyond the thin apartment walls, a subtle gold glimmer flickered against the morning clouds and vanished.
---
I stood there, holding the feather between us, and realized that the real battle wasn't between Elior and Adrian at all.
It was inside me—between every future I might choose, every heartbeat that might bend the world one way or another.
And for the first time, the choice felt terrifyingly, exhilaratingly mine.