Page 7 of Rook

A man on screen gestures grandly, a cap and gown framing his determined face. Rook goes still next to me, the air between us suddenly thick with something unspoken. I risk a glance his way.

“Rook?” His profile’s etched with memories. “Something wrong?”

“Ah, it’s nothing.” He shakes his head lightly, but his voice is distant, like he’s not really here with me. “Just reminds me of my own graduation. Feels like another life, you know?”

“University?” My surprise is genuine. “Never pegged you for the academic type.”

He chuckles, low and self-deprecating. “What, thought I conjured up chemistry and robotics from thin air?”

“Kinda,” I admit. A shrug lifts his shoulders.

“Guess I’m just some kind of genius, then,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Must be.” I lean back, letting the moment stretch comfortably between us as the movie begins its dance across the screen. “Will you tell me about it? I never…well, obviously I never went.”

He scoffs. “Maybe some other time.”

I can see the pain in his eyes, so I let it drop, the two of us going silent. The laughter from the TV wraps around us, but it feels distant, like it’s coming from another world. Oberon’s chest rises and falls with a steady rhythm against my thigh, his hair slipping through my fingers like silk threads. Rook’s arm brushes mine again, that electric current between us never fading.

“Rook,” I start, my voice low enough not to rouse Oberon, “have you heard from Luka?”

He shifts, his gaze lingering on the screen before meeting mine. “Yeah, talked to him last night. He’s…holding up.”

“Surviving, huh?” There’s a weight in those words, a shared understanding of what it means to just keep breathing in this twisted reality we’re part of. I haven’t spoken to Luka since we agreed to stay away from each other for Gunnar’s sake—and then Gunnar vanished, and Luka kept staying away.

I broke everything.

“Something like that.” His eyes are hard when he says it, like steel without any sheen.

I nod, biting down on my lip as I let my thoughts spiral for a moment. “I can’t stop thinking about New Eden,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Nightmares?” His brows rise slightly, a silent prompt for me to go on.

“Yeah. I—I should’ve never left. Should’ve never given myself up to the Eclipse.” A sour taste spreads in my mouth. “Feels like I royally screwed everything up.”

“Hey.” Rook’s tone is firm, and he turns to face me fully now. “That’s not on you.”

“Isn’t it?” I push back against the doubt gnawing at my insides. “Even if Oberon doesn’t say it, I know it. I see it in the way he looks at me sometimes—like I’m the one crack in our foundation.”

“Look at me, Aisling.” His voice is a command, and I can’t help but obey. In his eyes, there’s a fierceness, a fire that refuses to let me sink into self-loathing. “You did what you had to do. We all did. And we’re still here, aren’t we?”

I watch Rook’s jaw clench, the muscle ticking like a time bomb ready to blow. The tension in the room could choke us.

“But I—“ I start.

And he interrupts me.

“Fuck off with that guilt trip, Aisling,” he says abruptly, his voice low and gravelly.

My heart stutters, a mix of shock and a twinge of hurt flashing through me. “Excuse me?”

His eyes meet mine, unyielding. “You heard me. You know damn well Gunnar would be six feet under if you hadn’t stepped in when you did.”

“Rook, I—“

“Save it.” He cuts me off, but his voice softens just a notch. “You’re not the villain in this fucked-up story. You’re the reason we’ve got something left to fight for.”

The raw honesty in his words slices through the fog of self-doubt. It’s a slap in the face, but one I needed.

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