"I love you."
The words didn't ring; they collided with her. Olivia felt the heat of his breath, a sickeningly real reminder that this wasn't a hallucination. It was a reality she wasn't prepared to handle.
Matthias pulled back, his body rigid, a silhouette of fractured glass against the stone. He looked at her, those emerald eyes now almost entirely submerged in that ink-like rot.
Love. Her mind rejected the word instantly. To Olivia, love wasn't a sanctuary; it was a fairy tale told to children to hide the world's jagged teeth. In her past life, "love" was the prefix to a slap, the justification for a betrayal.
It was a liability she had spent years cutting out of her soul with a dull knife. She searched the black abyss of his pupils, desperate to find a lie, a strategic trap—anything but that raw, naked sincerity.
"How long do you intend to stare at me like that?"
His voice was a rasp, the sound of metal scraping against bone.
