The fire crackled softly, its flickering light dancing across the wooden walls of the cabin. The warmth of the hearth should have been comforting, yet Lioren found himself trapped between the past and present, between the body he now inhabited and the soul that wasn’t supposed to be here.

Lilith was still holding him.

Her arms remained wrapped around him, her face buried against his chest, as if afraid he would disappear.

"I love you," she had whispered, her voice trembling with relief.

The words echoed in his mind, sinking deep into places he hadn’t even known were empty.

She thought he was her Lioren.

Her son.

Her beloved.

The last male High Elf.

But he wasn’t.

Lioren stiffened, his breath catching. His heartbeat wasn’t racing, but it felt wrong, as if he were intruding on something sacred. He didn’t belong here. This wasn’t his life.

Yet here he was, held in the arms of a woman who looked at him like he was her entire world.

Would she ever know the truth?

Would she hate him if she found out?

His hands clenched slightly. He had already experienced what it was like to be unwanted, to be discarded as if his life meant nothing. For the first time in both of his lives, someone was holding onto him.

He wasn’t ready to let that go.

So, he did the only thing he could.

He held her back.

Lilith inhaled sharply at the gesture, her fingers tightening around him. He could feel her warmth, the gentle but unyielding strength in her embrace.

"Lioren…" she murmured, pulling back slightly.

Her golden eyes searched his face, scanning him with an emotion he couldn’t name. Relief. Devotion. Love.

And then—something else.

Concern.

"Why do you look at me like that?" she asked softly, brushing silver strands of hair from his face.

Lioren hesitated.

Did she already suspect something?

His mind raced for an answer, but before he could find one, Lilith placed her hand against his forehead.

"You’re pale. Do you feel weak? Dizzy?"

He almost laughed at the irony. He had just been poisoned to death. Of course, he felt strange. But it wasn’t sickness—it was the overwhelming realization that he was living in a body that wasn’t his.

"I…" he started, but the words wouldn’t come.

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Lilith’s expression softened.

"It’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself to speak."

She pulled him close again, letting him rest against her.

"You scared me," she whispered. "I thought I lost you."

Lioren let his eyes close for a brief moment.

She didn’t know.

She still believed that the original Lioren—the one who had died before her eyes—had simply collapsed and woken up again.

He could keep it that way.

For now.

THE MORNING AFTER

Lioren awoke to the scent of herbs and the quiet rustle of movement. The warmth of the bed was unfamiliar but strangely comforting, much softer than the cold, empty mattress he had known in his past life.

Sunlight filtered through the wooden windows, casting golden hues over the small but well-kept room. It was different from the grand estate he had grown up in—a simple cabin, built for survival rather than luxury. Yet, it felt more like home than anywhere he had ever lived.

The faint sound of water boiling caught his attention.

Turning his head, he saw Lilith standing by the wooden counter, carefully preparing tea. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back, swaying slightly as she moved.

She was beautiful. Unrealistically so.

Her form was elegant, her every movement effortless. She was graceful in a way humans never could be, as if she belonged to something higher—something untouched by time.

His body reacted before his mind did, pushing itself up into a sitting position. Stronger. Lighter. Different.

His hands trembled slightly as he reached up, brushing his fingers over his ears.

They were long and pointed.

It wasn’t a dream.

He really was no longer human.

The wooden floor creaked as Lilith turned, golden eyes softening when she saw him awake.

"You’re up," she said gently, picking up a small cup. "Here. Drink this. It will help you recover."

Lioren hesitated before reaching for the cup. His fingers brushed against hers, and he felt her warmth even through the brief touch.

He took a slow sip. The taste was strong—earthy, slightly bitter—but soothing.

"You should rest more," she murmured. "Even if it was only for a moment, you lost consciousness. That means your body is still adjusting."

He didn’t respond right away.

Instead, he studied her carefully.

There was something about the way she looked at him.

Not just with concern, but with a deep, unwavering affection.

Lioren set the cup down, choosing his words carefully.

"How long… have we been here?"

Lilith blinked, surprised by the question.

"Since you were a baby," she said. "This cabin has always been our home."

She spoke so naturally, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world. As if he had always been hers.

But that wasn’t true.

Not for him.

"Lilith," he said slowly, her name unfamiliar on his tongue but natural to his body.

She tilted her head slightly, waiting.

"Who… am I?"

A long silence stretched between them.

Then, Lilith smiled.

A soft, knowing smile. A smile filled with love.

She walked to him, kneeling beside the bed, and reached up to brush silver strands of hair from his face.

"You are my love," she whispered. "My heart. My only reason for breathing."

His chest tightened at her words.

"You are Lioren. The last male High Elf. And you are mine."

Her fingers trailed gently down to his hand, intertwining their fingers.

"I have loved you since the day you were born, and I will love you until the end of time."

Her golden eyes shone with something unshakable. Devotion. Love. Absolute certainty.

Lioren couldn’t look away.

His whole life, he had been discarded. Unwanted.

But this woman—Lilith—looked at him as if he was everything.

His throat felt dry.

He could lie.

He could tell her that he wasn’t truly her Lioren.

He could confess everything right now.

But as he stared into her eyes, seeing the love she had been waiting years to give, he found himself unable to say anything.

He squeezed her hand in return.

He wasn’t ready to break this moment.

Lilith leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, her voice a gentle whisper.

"I love you, Lioren."

He swallowed hard.

He didn’t know who Lioren the High Elf had been.

He didn’t know if he could become the person she wanted.

But for the first time in his life, he wanted to try.