I woke with a knot in my throat and the certainty that something was about to break.
The island—that place that at first felt foreign and later mysteriously welcoming—was beginning to reveal itself as an entity with a will of its own. I no longer knew whether it protected me… or if it was simply watching, deciding whether I deserved its shelter.
That day, Lyanna handed me a letter.
"A crow brought it at dawn," she said without looking at me, as if she feared she had been only the messenger of something meant to remain hidden.
I recognized the handwriting immediately. It was my father's.
I trembled.
I climbed the tower stairs and locked myself in the highest room of the house. The letter weighed more than it should have—as if it carried the remains of something buried for far too long.
I opened it with cold hands.
My dearest daughter,
If you are reading this, it is because time has finally caught up with us.I always knew this moment would come. Not in exact form, but the way one senses a storm before the sky splits open. What I did not imagine was that you would be part of it.
I did not bring you here to give you away. It was not a sacrifice. It was a desperate, selfish decision. I… made a pact for your safety. I believed this place would protect you better than I ever could.
The man you are with now… is not what he seems. But neither are you.If you could see what I saw… you would understand why you always had dreams you couldn't explain, why mirrors sometimes failed to return the same reflection.
I owe you truths. But I can no longer give them to you with words. Only with silence.Forgive me, if you can.
Your father
I read the letter once, twice, three times. With each reading, the feeling of betrayal tangled more tightly with guilt. What did it mean that he had "made a pact"? Did he know exactly who Declan was? Did he know what I represented to this island?
I felt used. Another piece in a game no one had explained to me.
I went downstairs with the crumpled letter in my fist. Declan was in the library, his brow slightly furrowed as his fingers traced an ancient map.
"Since when did you know my father had something to do with this?"
He didn't look at me right away.
"Since you arrived," he replied, with a calm that set me ablaze.
"And you said nothing?"
"I wasn't sure. Not entirely."
"Not entirely?" I laughed, but it didn't sound like laughter. "Which part weren't you sure of? That he offered you his daughter as currency? Or that you accepted without hesitation?"
Now he looked at me. Not with anger. With something worse: sorrow.
"It wasn't like that."
"Then how was it, Declan? Because to me there are only two ways to see this: either I was sold, or you lied to me."
"You were protected," he said. And his voice broke as he said it.
It hurt more than I expected.
I hated him for a few seconds. I hated him for being so good that even the way he hid the truth was steeped in sacrifice. Because he was not a villain… and that made him more dangerous.
I went out to the garden. I walked until the air turned colder, until my steps led me to the edge of a small natural pool where Melyra had placed herbs—the same one where she had once suggested I submerge myself to find balance.
I undressed slowly. No one was around. Or at least, no one visible. I entered the water and felt the steam wrap around me.
I didn't cry. But the water in my eyes made me think I did.
I felt betrayed by everyone. By my father. By the island. By Declan. By myself.
The steam from the pool did not soothe me. It boiled my skin from the inside. The silence felt like a mockery. I didn't want peace. I wanted to understand.
I heard footsteps approaching and my body tensed immediately.
"Go away," I said without looking at him, still facing away, in the water.
The footsteps did not stop.
"Sereniah…"
"I told you to go."
I turned then. He was already a few meters away, barefoot, shirtless, but with the expression of someone who had not come to defend himself… but to beg.
"I need to explain."
"Explain what? That my life is just another bargain in your endless history of secrets? That you, like everyone else, knew what I didn't? That you could smell me and knew from the first moment I was the right one… and still looked at me as if you had no idea?"
My voice trembled. With rage. With disappointment. With something deeper—older than everything I had lived through on this island.
"I didn't know everything at first," he said, his voice breaking. "But yes… from the moment I sensed your scent, from the moment I breathed your presence, I knew. Not with my mind. With my body. With the island. I recognized you before I could understand it."
"And you thought I didn't deserve to know?"
"I thought if I told you, I would lose you."
"And what makes you think I haven't lost you?"
Declan lowered his gaze for the first time. His pride fell apart in his shoulders.
"I don't care about losing everything. I just don't want to lose the chance to explain. Even if you hate me afterward."
I looked at him. And for a second I wished I didn't feel what I felt. Because even then—even now—I still desired him.
And that hurt more than the betrayal.
"Don't touch me," I warned.
He took a step back.
"I know. I'm not here to touch you. I'm here so you can look at me and see that I was not merely a hunter who found his prey. I was chosen too. By you. By this island. And it terrified me."
I said nothing. I simply watched him, arms crossed, water up to my chest. He didn't come any closer. He didn't try to touch me. He simply allowed the truth, at last, to have space.
"I never imagined it would be real," he continued. "I never believed the day would truly come when she appeared. And when you did… you were so you. So human. So wounded. That I wanted to give you everything without frightening you."
A sharp ache tightened in my chest.
"I wanted to give you freedom," he added, almost in a whisper. "Not to condition you. Not to claim you as everyone expected me to. But that too was a mistake, because by remaining silent, I lied. And I regret it, Sereniah… more than I can explain."
I saw him there, soaked, standing before the pool. Vulnerable. Dangerously beautiful.
My body remembered him. Desired him.
But my soul was bleeding.
"I don't know if I can forgive you," I said at last.
"I don't want you to—not now," he replied, and his voice was firm this time. "I only want you not to leave without knowing you were not a sacrifice. You were a hope. You are the only one who can choose what to do with that."
And then he left. He turned slowly and walked away, leaving in the air the unspoken promise of a love that still wanted to fight… even if today was not the day to do it.
I remained alone in the water.
The surface was calm, but inside… I was a storm.
I didn't cry. The pain had already crossed that boundary. It was a contained fury, thick as the steam still rising in slow columns from the water. Night embraced me without words, without sound. Only me, my thoughts, and the echo of a phrase that would not stop repeating in my mind:
They protected you.
Protected me from what? From whom? And at what cost?
My father…Was it fear that made him send me here? Or blind faith in something he understood and I did not?
I couldn't stop remembering all his silences. All his half-finished sentences. His way of deflecting important questions when I was a child. Now everything took on a different color. It hadn't been negligence. It had been a plan. A pact.
And I was the currency.
The letter did not offer me an explanation. Only a farewell.And that absence of answers—of courage—hurt me more than if he had confessed to selling me outright.
Because part of me still wanted to believe he was good.
I clenched my teeth.
I didn't know whom to trust. Melyra knew more than she said. Declan—even in his honesty now—had hidden what mattered most. And me… what did I have?
An invisible bond with an island that watched me.A body that desired the man who had hurt me the most.And a life that no longer fully belonged to me.
But then I remembered a line from the letter:
"If you could see what I saw… you would understand why mirrors sometimes failed to return the same reflection."
My chest went cold.
Yes. I remembered. That feeling. As a child. Standing before the mirror for minutes… sensing something move when I did not. That my eyes were not entirely mine.
My reflection was not a reflection.
Was that what he feared? Or what he hoped I would discover?
Something told me the island was not only alive.The island… knew me. From before.And perhaps it, too, was waiting for me to choose.
But I still didn't know what.
I returned to the house with muddy feet and a heart full of questions. I climbed the stairs without looking at anyone, the crumpled letter in my hand and the metallic taste of anger still in my mouth.
I sat on the edge of the bed, trembling.
I didn't want to cry.I wanted to understand.
How had that letter reached here? Who else had read it before me? Was anyone else involved in all this?Declan? Melyra? My father?
I covered my face with my hands.Nothing made sense.
But one thing I did know:
My father knew something about this island.Maybe not everything. Maybe not clearly.But he knew enough to fear it.And even so… he sent me here.
I closed my eyes.
I wasn't ready to forgive.But I was ready to investigate.
And this time, I wouldn't wait for anyone to give me answers.I would find them myself.