The sun wasn't up yet, but Starlight City already looked bruised.
From the rooftop, Arielle could see the skyline fractured by the black tether — a jagged vein splitting the dawn sky, swallowing the stars one by one. The air trembled around it, faint distortions rippling outward like heat waves, as if the entire horizon were holding its breath.
She stood near the edge of the roof, arms wrapped around herself, listening to the hum in her chest. It hadn't stopped since the Hollowed District. If anything, it had deepened — no longer just a vibration, but a low, unrelenting song threading through her bones. Every broken bond across the city chimed faintly in her ribs, as if the weave itself were asking her to take them in.
Behind her, soft footsteps approached. Selene didn't speak at first; they just stood beside her, their coat draped over their shoulders, silver hair pulled back to reveal the sharp lines of their face. Their expression, usually unreadable, was cracked at the edges — exhaustion, maybe something deeper.
"You shouldn't be up," Selene murmured finally, their voice low, smooth as silk but edged with weariness. "After last night, your body needs rest."
Arielle let out a quiet laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Can't sleep when my bones are humming like a beehive. Besides… it feels like if I close my eyes too long, I'll wake up someone else."
Selene glanced at her, their silver eyes searching, unreadable as always, but softer now. "You're not someone else. Not yet."
"Yet," Arielle echoed, the word catching in her throat. She looked back at the tether, its shadow bleeding across the skyline. "Tell me the truth. How long before this thing in me takes over? Before I'm just another puppet for Draven?"
Selene didn't answer immediately. They followed her gaze to the tether, their jaw tightening. The faint light of dawn painted their face in gold, softening the steel in their expression.
"You're not a puppet," they said finally. "But Anchors don't… last, Arielle. They're not meant to. The weave uses them until they burn out. Or until something — someone — takes the burden from them."
"Like Draven," she said flatly.
Selene's hand flexed at their side. "Draven doesn't take the burden. He feeds on it. He'll hollow you out and call it freedom. The coven won't do much better. They'll cage you, strip you down to threads to keep the tether from spreading."
Arielle turned toward them, frustration bubbling. "And what about you, Selene? What's your solution? Keep me close until I burn out, then stitch up whatever's left?"
The words came out sharper than she meant, but Selene didn't flinch. Their eyes — usually a cool, polished silver — flickered with something raw.
"I don't have a solution," they said quietly. "I just… don't want to lose you."
The rooftop fell silent. The hum in Arielle's chest seemed to sync with her heartbeat, softer for the first time all night. She searched Selene's face, the faint crease between their brows, the controlled tension in their jaw. They weren't cold now. They were bare.
Her breath caught. "Selene…"
Their gaze softened, their lips parting slightly as if to speak — but then they glanced away, the moment breaking like thin ice. They reached into their coat and pulled out a small, shimmering thread vial, setting it gently in her palm.
"There's still time to leave," Selene said, their tone slipping back toward its usual control. "This will mask your resonance long enough to get you beyond the city lines. Past the Conclave's reach. Past Draven's."
Arielle stared at the vial, the liquid threads inside swirling like captured starlight. For a brief, sharp second, she imagined it: boarding a train out of Starlight City, finding some quiet place where threads didn't hum, where tethers didn't split the sky, where her veins weren't turning black.
But as she looked at the tether again — at the way it pulsed wider now, almost alive — the thought turned to ash.
"I can't," she said softly. "Every bond that snaps… I feel them, Selene. It's like they're begging me to hold them. If I leave, if I pretend I can just walk away, this thing in me won't stop. It'll eat me alive anyway. At least here, maybe I can use it for something."
Selene's jaw tightened, but they didn't argue. They just took the vial back and slipped it into their coat.
"You're choosing the city over your life," they said, their voice neutral but strained.
"I'm choosing not to run," Arielle corrected. "Even if it kills me."
They stood there in silence for a long moment, the tether's shadow crawling across the rooftops as dawn finally broke, staining the clouds with streaks of gold and violet. The hum in Arielle's chest deepened again, faint threads from the city tugging toward her as if sensing her decision.
Finally, Selene stepped closer, their hand brushing hers. The contact was light, tentative — nothing like their usual precise confidence.
"If this kills you," they murmured, their voice so low she almost didn't hear, "I won't forgive the city. Or Draven. Or myself."
Arielle's fingers curled slightly around theirs. She wanted to say something — a promise, a reassurance, anything — but before she could, a faint pulse rippled across the tether, visible even from the rooftop. The air trembled with it, sending a shiver down her spine.
Draven was close.
The hum surged, vibrating through her ribs with a strange, eager note, as if something inside her recognized his proximity.
She met Selene's gaze, their silver eyes catching the dawn light. "Looks like we don't get to wait for nightfall."
Selene's fingers tightened around hers briefly before they let go, their face settling back into its calm mask. "Then we face him. Together."
Arielle nodded, though the hum whispered otherwise — a dangerous, enticing chorus beneath her skin.
Together… for now.