Love And Betrayal | ✔️

58. Truths and lies

Remus looks at me with sympathy. "I think you already know the answer to that one."

Of the two, Romulus is the first to leave. He doesn't dawdle in his departure. His brother, however, lingers. He leans forward and whispers something into my ear.

Nausea hits me so hard, it takes everything in my power to remain stoic.

"With great power comes great responsibility, my Luna. You were given more because more is expected from you." The ancient guardian forewarns me. "Goodbye and good luck."

With a sweep of his cloak, he exits the room without a backward glance.

I wait until their footfalls grow silent. Then, rushing to the nearest toilet, I vomit.

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Picture this: You're stuck in a burning building. Smoke and flames all around you.

Multiple emotions are coursing through you. The first—survival instinct.

The second emotion—anger. You're pissed at the bastards who set the place on alight in the first place.

And third—fear.

But every emotion other than the first is, quite frankly, unhelpful.

This is when you transition from being a teenager into an adult. Your life's still chaotic and every bit miserable as it was yesterday. But today, you wear big girl panties, hold in your tears and hustle anyway.

With doomsday so close, I don't have time to freak out or cry. So, I skip past anger and fear and embrace the numb acceptance.

Reports after reports. Files after files. The rest of the afternoon crawls by. In the evening, I lead the training session. Muscles burning, head hurting, I'm a mess by the time the sun is setting.

The more I try not to think about it, the more I do. If I behave differently, people will suspect something's wrong. They'll poke around and eventually someone's bound to find out.

If that happens, the future might change and someone else will end up hurt.

There's no point in fretting over the future if it's inevitable. But if there's so much as a slightest chance for survival, I'll take it. Will fight for it. Tooth and fucking nail.

I walk back to my room after training. Peeling off the sweaty clothes, I fish out a fresh pair of track pants and tee from the wardrobe. I stop. The amulet my mother gave me two years ago dangles on the hook behind the door.

I feel a tug in my heart when I touch it. A memory of her giving it to me when I was about to leave. When I had hit rock bottom. And now, I realise it's time to pass it on. Someone else needs it more than I do.

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My sister stares the amulet in her palm. She's still in her workout clothes, with her blonde hair up in a high ponytail.

"You want me to have it?" She wears a suspicious look on her face. "Why?"

"Because it helped me when times were tough. And now that the war is so close, I want you to have it. You need it more than I do."