Page 59 of Goddess of Light

“But I think my other nickname is more fitting,” I tell her, reaching out and putting my hands over hers. I pull them away from her ears, which, in my opinion, are perfect.

“And what is that?”

“Little bird,” I tell her, gazing down at her.

“Little bird,” she repeats, rubbing her lips together as she looks away in thought. “Yes. I remember now. You did call me that. It is rather fitting. My mother is considered the protector of birds.”

“And she protected you when you needed it most,” I tell her. “She brought you to the sun when you were ready to be transformed.”

She frowns. “But you’re not happy about this transformation. None of you are.”

“Let me explain.” I gesture to the bed and sit on the edge of it, the mattress sinking under my weight. “Sit,” I command. “Please,” I add hastily.

She sits beside me, close enough that I put my hand on her thigh.

“Is this alright?” I ask, noting my hand.

She gives me a sidelong look, her mouth twisted into a very Hanna-like smirk. “I get the impression you’re not used to asking.”

I chuckle. “It’s rare someone says no to me. I always get what I want, or at least I used to…until my whole world fell apart.”

“I’m sure you asked for my return,” she goes on. “And yet, you don’t seem pleased.”

My heart sinks in my chest, and I squeeze her thigh. “I am pleased, Hanna. I’m relieved, more than relieved, that you’re alright, that you’re alive and strong, and I’m grateful you showed up and saved us.” I swallow uneasily, my heart pounding in my head. “I just… I missed you,” I say, my voice tentative, as if I’m afraid to say the words. “I still miss you, and you’re right in front of me. To see the woman I…the woman I care so deeply about, my heart and soul…for you to look at me and not really see me for who I am…”

My eyes drop to my hand and stay focused there. Even though she’s not exactly Hanna and won’t judge me or take my words to heart, I still have a hard time admitting this to her.

“I see you for who you are,” she says in a low voice. “I remember, Tuoni. Not all at once, but the memories are there. They just belong to someone else.”

“And that someone else is who I want by my side,” I admit quietly.

“I’m not good enough?”

I glance up, meeting her eyes. There’s a spark of hurt there, and as much as I don’t want to hurt her, that spark has to be a good thing. It means she feels.

“You are more than good enough. You are still Hanna,” I tell her, my other hand cupping the side of her face and angling it toward me. “And I have faith I will get through to you eventually. As I said before, I always get what I want.”

She swallows hard and leans into my hand. “My mother said that each time I use my gifts, I lose a bit of myself.” She takes a beat, eyes flicking over my face in thought. “She also said the more I feel, the more connected I feel to this realm, the more I could lose my powers. It seems like an unfair situation to you.”

“And not to you?” I ask, my hand falling away.

“I don’t want to feel,” she says with a firm set to her chin. “It is too complicated and messy. I want to do my job. I want to help save the realm, fulfill the prophecy. It’s why my mother had me. She knew I had more of a chance than anyone else. She said my mortal side would prevent me from becoming too powerful. It’s the only thing holding me together when I use the sun.”

“You’re saying the power would corrupt you?”

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. That’s what the mortals always say.

“Corrupt is too human of a word. I don’t think I would be overtaken by evil, for evil is just a concept to me. Rather, this world and other worlds and the people in them wouldn’t matter to me at all. I could destroy the universe if it pleased me.”

I don’t like the sound of that. I clear my throat. “Well, then you can clearly see why your humanity is important, Hanna.”

“But so is winning,” she says. “I am uncertain if we can have both.”

“Then I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to try and see if we can have both. You, in love with me. I never realized how much I needed your heart until it was gone…” I trail off, shifting uncomfortably. One would think it would be easier to admit such things to someone who doesn’t feel or judge, but it isn’t. I just want my little bird to hear it, to take it in, to have it mean something to her.

I want to affect her.

“Can I ask you a question, Tuoni?”

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