STARLIGHT UNBOUND by Deus Ex Machina - HTML preview

STARLIGHT UNBOUND

But his pulse didn’t slow.

He searched his reflection for any sign of what he had seen, but the glass revealed nothing. Just his own face, pale and shaken.

He swallowed hard. I’m imagining things. The words rang hollow, flimsy against the thoughts in his mind. It ’s stress. That’s all.

Lucien forced himself to step away from the mirror. He tightened the towel around his waist, pulling open the bathroom door. A rush of cooler air spilled in, bringing him into the present.

Beyond the doorway, the apartment was quiet. Lyra was already stretched out on the bed, one arm draped lazily over her stomach, her breathing slow and even. The distant hum of the restored heating system was the only sound.

Lucien lay down beside her, staring up at the ceiling. His body was exhausted, his muscles relaxing finally from the warmth of the shower.

Sleep should have come easily. But it didn ’t.

The mirror’s empty reflection in his mind, sharp and undeniable. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it—blame it on exhaustion, on stress, on anything that made sense —he knew.

Deep down, he knew.

Something was happening to him.

Something he couldn’t explain.

And he had no idea what it meant.

***

Beside him, Lyra stirred, her breathing steady, deep in the kind of sleep Lucien envied. She ’d drifted off hours ago, the strenuous day pulling her under with ease.

He turned his head, watching the way the soft glow from the streetlights filtered through the window, casting delicate shadows over her features. She looked peaceful, unburdened. He wished he could slip into that same easy rest.

But sleep wouldn ’t come.

Carefully, he slid out of bed, mindful not to wake her. The cool air of the apartment prickled against his skin as he padded toward the bathroom, his bare feet silent on the floor. The usual murmur of distant voices, of machinery in the sector, had faded. At this hour, the world was still.

He shut the bathroom door behind him, resting his hands against the edge of the sink. The faucet sputtered to life with a groan, and he splashed cold water onto his face, the shock jarring but welcome.

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