When my eyes met his, I expected to see relief, or amusement, or perhaps a smug I-told-you-so. What I saw was so much more. Luther gazed at me like I was the embodiment of hope fulfilled. Like I was the answer to every question he had ever asked, the harmony to every song he’d ever sung. He looked at me like I was the sun and the moon and the stars, all the light in the world, shining a path for him out of the lonely dark. He had believed in me from the very start. Not only because of my magic, but because of my heart—who I was, my courage and my compassion, and my willingness to fight.
