Dinner with the group was nothing short of eventful, and by the end of it, I felt like I wanted to run out with my hands raised in the air, screaming for relief. The food was delicious, but sitting between these two men—Michael and Diarmid—was a recipe for indigestion. Their silent standoff had me on edge, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

After we finished, I stood up, ready to say my goodbyes. "Thanks, guys, for visiting me and hanging out," I said, pulling Brigit and Rhyian into a hug. Their familiar warmth calmed my nerves, and I couldn't help but smile at Roisin, who stood nearby with his arms crossed and a teasing grin on his face.

"What? No hug for me?" Roisin teased, stepping forward dramatically.

Before I could respond, I heard a low groan from my side—a clear warning. It was Diarmid, his eyes narrowing slightly at Roisin's playful remark.

"Oops, sorry Alp—Diarmid," Roisin corrected himself with a mischievous laugh, throwing a wink my way. "I'm just teasing Arwen here."

I stole a glance at Diarmid, who was standing comfortably close to me, his presence looming but still careful not to touch me. His expression was unreadable, but I could feel the protective energy radiating from him, even in his silence.

Brigit's voice broke through the tension. "Well, we hope to see you at school this Monday, Arwen." She smiled, linking her arm with Finn's. Their easy, natural affection was a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere surrounding Diarmid and Michael.

"Yes, I'll be there," I replied, trying to sound casual.

As we shared a few more words, I noticed Michael emerging from the diner, having stepped away earlier to use the restroom. His return didn't help alleviate the awkwardness I'd been feeling. He walked up to us, his expression neutral but his eyes wary.

Diarmid's voice was low when he finally spoke. "Don't worry, Arwen. We'll help look for Nick. Anything you need." His gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. His words were sincere, and yet, the intensity in his eyes made my heart race uncontrollably. Calm down, heart. Behave!

I swallowed hard, forcing a small smile. "Thank you, Diarmid—"

Before I could finish, Michael stepped up beside me, his hand gently grabbing my arm in a protective gesture. "Thanks for the treat, guys," Michael said, his tone firm but polite as he stood closer to me, creating an unmistakable barrier between Diarmid and me.

Diarmid's expression shifted in an instant, from solemn to sour. His jaw clenched visibly, a clear sign of his growing frustration. As if sensing the tension rising again, Roisin appeared at Diarmid's side, wrapping his arm around him in a casual, almost possessive way, trying to diffuse the situation.

I couldn't help but smile at the scene, finding it oddly amusing. "Come on, honey, let's go home," Roisin said teasingly, giving Diarmid a playful nudge. Diarmid took a deep breath and forced a smile, though I could tell he was struggling to keep his composure.

"We'll head out now," Diarmid said, his voice calm but strained. He extended his hand to Michael for a handshake, the gesture formal and stiff. "Michael, it was nice meeting you."

Michael's handshake was firm, his expression unreadable. "The pleasure's mine," he replied, his tone carrying the same weight of unspoken tension.

Brigit, always the peacekeeper, spoke up before things could escalate further. "Are you sure you guys will be okay walking from here?"

"Yes, we can manage," I assured her, offering a polite smile. I could sense the hesitation in Diarmid's gaze, though he remained silent. He clearly wasn't happy about leaving me with Michael, but he trusted me enough not to argue further.

The mood darkened slightly as Diarmid's frustration became more evident. His brows furrowed, and though he didn't say a word, the stiffness in his posture spoke volumes. I could feel the weight of his concern, but I nodded at him reassuringly, hoping to ease his mind.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine," I said softly, though I knew my words did little to alleviate the tension in him. He gave me one last lingering look before turning to leave, the mood visibly souring as he walked away with Roisin by his side.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

As I watched them go, I couldn't shake the feeling that tonight had shifted something between us all. The tension wasn't just about Michael and Diarmid anymore—it was something deeper, something I wasn't sure I was ready to face.

On our way home, the silence was a comfortable one. Michael, surprisingly relaxed after the tension he brewed with Diarmid earlier, seemed at ease. The walk back was short, and as we arrived home, the weight of the day began to settle on me. Mom greeted us, telling us that Josh and Leroy had already gone home after dinner, and Pa was with Grae in Nick's room. Michael took the spare mattress and set up in the living room for the night, ever the protector.

Curiosity tugged at me, so I peeked into Nick's room. Papa was already asleep, and the dim light cast soft shadows across the room. It looked peaceful, yet there was an emptiness without Nick's presence. Michael made a final check around the apartment, ensuring everything was secure before bidding me goodnight. I said my goodnights to him and Mom and then retreated into my room.

Lying in bed, thoughts swirled in my head. Tonight had been something—a blend of tension, confusion, and emotions I wasn't ready to face. I wished Nick were here to help me navigate through these unfamiliar feelings. The thought of him missing added a heaviness to my heart, and with that, I drifted into a restless sleep.

Sunday morning, I woke before the sun. Running had always been my way of clearing my mind, so I laced up my shoes, but Michael had asked me not to run too far, just to be safe. I respected his concern and kept my route close to the apartment. The air was cool and crisp as I jogged, the horizon just starting to blush with the first hints of dawn. After my run, I climbed up to the rooftop, where I stood taking deep breaths, trying to calm my restless mind.

I stared at my hands, flexing my fingers, trying to grasp the enormity of what had happened over the past week. It had been almost seven days since Nick disappeared. Yesterday, Rafail and Miel had visited us. They spoke to my parents, gently offering them the choice to stay here or return home. The council, they said, was worried about us. They promised that either Michael or Rafail would remain behind to keep an eye on things. They assured us they wanted us to lead normal lives, but I couldn't help but feel that normal was a distant memory until we found Nick.

Miel handed me a book, an old, weathered thing that looked like it had been pulled from the depths of history. As I flipped through it, I realized it wasn't just any book—it was the original journal that told the story of Talisa and Azrael, the very foundation of the legends that was fed to me few weeks ago.

Standing on the rooftop, I looked up at the vast sky, searching for answers in the silence of the morning. A sudden buzzing sensation in my arms startled me, sending a jolt of energy through my body. My skin began to glow faintly, and I panicked, feeling the hairs on my arms stand on end.

I took deep, steady breaths, trying to calm myself as the buzzing grew more intense. Then, faintly at first, I heard it—a voice. It was distant, barely a whisper on the wind, but unmistakably there.

"Ar-wein," it called.

My brow furrowed in confusion. The voice was male, but I couldn't see anyone around me. I scanned the rooftop, but nothing. I sat down on the bench, cradling my head in my hands, trying to center myself as the energy continued to envelop me. The voice grew stronger, clearer.

"Ar-wein."

It was Nick.

Suddenly, Michael appeared in front of me, kneeling down to my level, his face filled with both understanding and concern. He gently took my hands, his grip grounding me as the connection to Nick's voice grew stronger.

"It's okay," Michael whispered, his voice soothing. "Nick is trying to talk to you. Listen to him."

My eyes widened in shock. How was this even possible? I focused harder, tuning out everything except the voice.

"Arwen," the voice called again, more urgently now.

"Nick? Is that you?" I asked aloud, panic and hope mingling in my voice.

"Arwen!" The voice was clearer, more distinct. It was him.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized it was really Nick. "Where the hell are you, Nick? We're so worried about you! Mom and Pa too!" I cried out, my heart racing.

"I'm okay," he replied, though his voice was strained. "I— I have to do something. It's complicated."

Michael released my hands and quickly ran back to the apartment, likely to get my parents.

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling as I tried to make sense of it all.

"I'm fine now. A bit bruised, but I've healed," Nick reassured me, though there was something in his voice that worried me.

"Who hurt you? Were you in a race or something?" I asked, confusion mingling with fear.

"No, no," Nick replied quickly. "It's... hard to explain. I don't even know where I am, or what time it is here."

I sat there, my mind spinning as I tried to process his words. Where was he? And why did he sound so lost?

A few minutes later, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see my parents rushing toward me, Michael close behind with Grae in his arms. The look on their faces mirrored the panic and confusion I felt. Nick's voice had faded, leaving behind more questions than answers.

I looked up at them, my voice shaky but determined. "It was Nick. He was talking to me. He's out there somewhere."