13. Love’s Light

CHAPTER 13

LOVE'S LIGHT

L uca stumbles through the underbrush, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Every step feels heavier, every thought sharper, cutting through him like the jagged shards of glass that seem to litter his mind.

Brynn lied.

The words pound through his skull like a relentless drumbeat.

She lied to me.

The image of Brynn—no, the Beast—standing in the clearing, eyes wild and furious, flashes through his mind again. The raw power, the sheer savagery of it—it should terrify him. But it isn't the Beast that makes his heart ache. It's her eyes. Beneath the rage, beneath the darkness, he saw something else: pain. Guilt.

And something even deeper—a hollow, aching loneliness that sears him to his core.

But then Maelor's voice—soft, insidious—echoes through his memory, twisting the knife in his chest: "She never had him. She's been lying to you all along."

Luca staggers to a stop, his vision blurring. He grits his teeth, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. His father—gods, his father. All this time, he's been fighting, risking everything, pushing them both deeper into danger because he thought… because he thought?—

She lied.

He squeezes his eyes shut, his breath hitching. Why, Brynn? Why would you do this? She had him believe his father was still trapped in the castle. She made him think Luca was fighting to save him. And all along…

He tenses, bitter pain spreading through him like poison. How can he be such a fool?

Except beneath the anger, beneath the betrayal, there's something else—something softer, like a thread of hope flickering in the darkness. The way she looked at him—gods, the way she begged him to run.

The way her voice broke when she called his name.

She's lied, yes. But the desperation in her eyes, the way her body trembled as the curse tore through her—that wasn't a lie. That wasn't some trick, some cruel manipulation.

No. There's more to this. There has to be.

But why? Why would she keep him in the dark?

The question burns in Luca's mind, a thorn that digs deeper with every heartbeat. If she never had his father, then why drag him into this? Why keep the truth from him? Luca sucks in a sharp breath, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. If she's just using him, why does she look like she's breaking every time she pushes him away?

Why does she keep fighting—keep risking herself—to protect him?

Slowly, as if moving through molasses, Luca looks back over his shoulder, his gaze fixed on the twisted shadows of the Eldergrove. The clearing where he's left her seems impossibly far away, hidden in the darkness. He can still hear her voice, see the tears in her eyes. She looked at him like she was afraid—afraid of losing him. Afraid of him leaving.

Afraid that if she told him the truth, he would?—

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut.

"She thought I'd leave," he whispers, the words a broken rasp. His stomach clenches, his thoughts spinning. "She thought—" He breaks off, shaking his head violently. "No, no, that's?—"

But it makes sense. Brynn wasn't just keeping the truth from him because she didn't trust him. She kept it from him because she thinks—she thinks he'll walk away. And if he leaves—if he turns his back on her—then there'll be no one left to stand by her side.

No one left to fight for her.

No one left to break the curse.

A sharp, ragged breath tears from his throat. That's why she lied. She needs him. She's afraid—afraid that if he knows the truth, he'll abandon her before they even have a chance to win. And she?—

She thinks he's strong enough to break it.

Luca's pulse thunders, his blood roaring in his ears. That's what all of this is about. That's why she kept him close—why she didn't let him go even when it would be easier. Because, deep down, in the darkest parts of herself, Brynn believed in him.

She believes that he—of all people—can break the curse. That he can save her.

It isn't just desperation that drives her. It isn't just selfishness.

It's hope.

"Gods," Luca whispers, his voice shaking. "Brynn, you… you really think I'm enough."

No one's ever believed in him like that. No one's ever looked at him and thought he's strong enough to change anything. They call him a scholar, a strategist—never a warrior. Never a hero. But Brynn—gods, Brynn thinks he's her last hope.

The weight of that—of her faith, her belief—crashes over him like a wave, and Luca feels something swell inside him.

"I'm not leaving you," he murmurs, his voice raw, determined. He turns, his gaze hardening as he stares into the dark, twisted woods. The pain of her betrayal still burns, still throbs deep in his chest. But it doesn't matter. None of it matters. "I'm not leaving," he repeats, his jaw set. "Do you hear me, Brynn?" He sucks in a sharp breath, his hands trembling. "I'm not walking away. Not now. Not ever."

With a surge of determination, Luca turns back toward the clearing, breaking into a run. The shadows swirl around him, whispering Maelor's taunts, his sneering accusations. But Luca shoves them aside, his heart blazing with an unbreakable resolve. He'll fight the Eldergrove itself if he has to. He'll face whatever darkness lies ahead.

Because Brynn needs him. And she?—

She believes he's strong enough.

"I'm going to prove it to you," he whispers, his voice low and steady. "I'm going to show you that I'm enough. That I'm not going anywhere."

The thought sends a piercing warmth flooding through his chest, and Luca's steps quicken. He can see the clearing ahead now, the twisted trees looming like skeletal sentinels. He pushes through the dense foliage, his pulse racing as the dark energy of the Eldergrove presses against him, thick and suffocating. But he focuses on the only thing that matters—the only thing that's ever mattered.

Brynn.

His steps falter as he reaches the edge of the clearing, the twisted branches parting just enough to reveal her.

Or what's left of her.

The Beast—towering, fur bristling, claws extended—stands in the center, muscles trembling with barely contained rage. The darkness swirls around her, thick and heavy, tendrils of shadow coiling and twitching. Her eyes—gods, her eyes. They blaze with dark, feral light, wild and untamed. A snarl rumbles low in her throat, vibrating through the ground, and for a moment, Luca can't breathe.

But he forces himself to move. He takes a step forward, then another, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Brynn," he whispers.

The Beast's head snaps up, a guttural growl tearing from her chest. The sound sends a shiver racing down his spine, but Luca holds his ground. He takes another step, his breath catching as the dark energy around her pulses and twists, flaring like a living storm.

"Brynn, I'm here," he says softly, his voice steady despite the fear clawing at his throat. "I'm not leaving. I'm not running away."

The Beast's eyes narrow, the dark light in her gaze flaring brighter. She bares her fangs, her body coiling as if preparing to lunge, and Luca's pulse stutters.

But he doesn't move.

Doesn't even flinch.

"I'm staying," he repeats, his voice low but firm. "I know you think I should run. I know you think you're too dangerous. But I—" He sucks in a sharp breath, his hands trembling at his sides. "I'm not going anywhere."

The snarl dies in her throat. The shadows around her waver, flickering, and for a single, fragile moment, the Beast's gaze softens—flickers with something human.

"Luca," she whispers, her voice a broken rasp.

And just like that, it isn't the Beast standing there. It's Brynn—eyes wide and desperate, her face twisted with pain and fear. Her hands—still clawed, still furred—tremble violently as she takes a step back, the dark tendrils of the curse coiling tighter around her limbs.

"No," Brynn gasps, her form flickering between Beast and woman, the shadows writhing around her like a living thing. "No, I—I'm dangerous, Luca. You don't understand—I'll—" She breaks off, shaking her head violently. "I'll destroy you."

"Then destroy me," Luca whispers.

The words strike like a blow, and Brynn freezes, staring at him in shock. "What?" she breathes, her voice a broken rasp.

"If that's what it takes to stay with you," Luca says softly, his gaze locked on hers. "Then I'll die here, in this cursed forest, by your side. Because I'm not leaving you, Brynn. Not ever."

Her breath evaporates, something fragile and hurting flickering in her gaze. "No," she whispers, shaking her head frantically. "No, I—gods, Luca, I lied. I—I lied to you. I?—"

"I know," Luca murmurs. His voice is soft, steady. "I know you did. But I also know why you did."

"No, you—you don't…" she gasps, the sobs tearing through her chest. "I—I lied because?—"

"Because you needed me," he says quietly. "Because you thought I could save you. Because you were afraid I'd leave if I knew the truth."

Brynn flinches, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Yes," she whispers, the word barely audible. "I—I was selfish, Luca. I?—"

"Brynn." He reaches out, his hand hovering near her furred arm. "Look at me."

She sucks in a sharp breath, her gaze lifting reluctantly to his.

"I'm not leaving," Luca says quietly, his voice firm. "No matter what you did—no matter why. I'm staying. Because you believed in me. And now—" His lips soften, angling up just a little. "Now it's my turn to believe in you."

The words seem to shatter something inside her. Her form flickers, shifting violently between beast and woman, and a sob tears from her throat as she staggers, the curse raging through her.

But Luca doesn't back down.

He just steps closer, his gaze locked on hers.

"I'm staying," he murmurs again, his voice low but fierce. "No matter what. I'm not leaving you."

The darkness around her wavers, the Beast's snarl faltering, and Brynn looks up at him, her eyes wide and desperate.

"Please," she whispers, her voice breaking. "Please, Luca. Don't?—"

But Luca just shakes his head, his heart swelling in his too-tight chest.

"I belong with you, Brynn," he says softly. "And I'm not going anywhere."