Page 76 of Siren Problems
“I wrote something,” she says softly. “A chant. But not for the council. Not for the books. For you.”
She presses it into my hand. “It’s made of truth. Of memory. Of choice.”
I stare at the stone, then back at her. My throat tightens.
“You’re asking me to let go of everything.”
She nods. “So I can holdsomething.”
A beat of silence.
Then another.
And finally, I say the words I’ve been terrified of:
“I’m scared.”
She takes my face in her hands.
“So am I.”
Then she kisses me—soft and fierce and terrifyingly gentle.
And I let her.
Because for the first time in centuries... I want to stay.
“I’m not some broken myth you can glue back together with poetry,” I snap, voice low and rough.
“You think that’s what I’m doing?” she fires back, stepping into my space like she’s daring me to push her away. “You think this is pity?”
“You threw away your career—yourfuture—for what? For me?”
“Forus,you stubborn, emotionally-stunted bastard!”
The air crackles.
I step back, hand clenching. “There is no ‘us.’ There’s you, and your obsession with fixing things, and me—one bad breath away from breaking everything.”
Her hands tremble at her sides, but she doesn’t flinch.
“You think I haven’tseenwhat you carry? You think I don’t know what fear looks like? I’m not doing this because I think I can save you, Calder.”
Her voice drops to a whisper.
“I’m trying tostand with you.”
The silence afterward is thunderous.
I stare at her, throat aching, wind cold against my skin.
“Luna…”
She shakes her head, blinking fast. “You don’t have to say anything. But I’ll be at that altar when the tide turns. Whether you come or not... that’s up to you.”
She turns before I can speak.
The wind swallows her footsteps as she walks away.
