Moonlight bled through the garden ruins.
Celeste perched on the broken fountain's edge, her toes skimming the ice-crusted pool. Alaric stood beside her, close enough that his shadow swallowed hers.
"When you were cursed," she asked quietly, "what did you lose?"
The wind stole his first answer. Then—
"Time," he said. "A brother. Myself."
She watched his throat work. "Then let's find what's left." A beat. "Together."
He didn't move. Didn't speak.
But when she rose to leave, his fingers brushed hers—just once—before pulling away.