Page 137 of Daughter of the Serpent

Her lips parted, the breath stolen straight from her lungs.

“Do you believe you have that with him?” His voice was low, but it cut through her, each word deliberate, a thread pulling at her carefully constructed walls.

Her stomach twisted, her heart stuttering.

Did she?

Sylvie shook her head, not in answer, but in a desperate attempt to push the question away - to silence the ache his words stirred. “I don’t know why we’re speaking of this,” she said, her voice quiet but sharp, creating space between them as though the physical distance could protect her.

“Such a thing won’t happen for someone like me.” The words slipped from her lips, each one a weight she could barely carry. “No one, not even Haldor, would be foolish enough to choose me - even if the gods themselves demand it.”

She couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.

She felt it searing through her, but she couldn’t look. Not now.

She couldn’t let him reach that part of her. The part that had always held such deep pain. That feared the truth but never dared to face it. Despite her daydreams she knew deep down, no one would choose her - want her - like she wanted them. She had spent so long convincing herself that love like that wasn’t for her. That she wasunworthy of it. That she couldn’t ask for more… That she didn’t deserve it.

The possibility of having it with anyone - seemed unimaginable, and yet that truth seemed to break her heart into a million pieces.

“It is better to not have hope.” She said under her breath. “To not dream of a reality that I know will never be mine.”

His eyes watched her closely, studying her with a scrutiny she dared not face.

“Once again, you fail to see yourself clearly.” He said finally, shocking her senses.

“I’ve known better than to ever follow such a road to its conclusion.” Her voice was barely more than a breath, fragile, cracked. “I have always been alone... and I will always be.”

As the words fell from her lips, she felt them cut through her. The pain of that truth tasted bitter, the air suddenly too thick to breathe.

His gaze held her.

“Yet…” His voice dropped, the words hanging like a fragile thread in the air, “You are not alone anymore.”

He took a slow step forward, his presence engulfing her whole.“Nor shall you be again, if you will it.”

All she could do was stare.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I want to show you something.”

She hesitated.

Then obeyed.

The water shifted around them as he moved, and even without sight, she could feel him - every ripple, every breath, the heat of his skin so close to hers.

“Do you trust me?” He whispered.

She nodded.

“Don’t think.” His lips echoed in her ear. His hands were on her body, her shoulders, tracing his fingertips along the curve of herspine. “Just feel.”

A soft warmth rose to her awareness from where he touched, like the first rays of sunlight breaking over the horizon. It spread slowly, curling through her limbs and filling every corner of her being, steady and radiant. Her breath hitched as a sudden glow pressed against her closed eyelids. When she blinked them open, the world around her shimmered in gold. The light wrapped around them, pulsing gently, alive and ethereal, as though the very air had been spun from threads of sunlight.

She gasped, turning to face him, a question in her eyes. His hands still embraced her skin, and his ambered eyes were melted honey.

“Our energies…they are one.” He told her.

“Our magic?” She asked.