I take a step back, my body trembling in confusion. The revelation hits me like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of me. This was why I thought Vega's pendant was familiar when I first saw it on him months ago. A sudden, visceral memory flashes in my mind—silver glinting against skin, bouncing in the dim light with our movements that night.
Everything made more sense now. The familiar fragrance I had smelt on Vega. At the time I thought it was because it was common cologne, something generic that many men wore. But it wasn't. It was his scent. The scent of the man who took my first night.
"It has always been you, Tyr," Vega implores, his voice cracking with desperation. "Please, give me a chance. Give me a chance to explain."
He tried to reach out to hold my hand, a bridge across the chasm opening between us. But I pulled my hand back sharply, clutching it to my chest.
I can't. I just can't.
