Wintersong (Wintersong, #1)

by S. Jae-Jones

The word fell between us, a drop of water in a bowl, sending ripples of fear through me.

What will you do when there is no one left to take care of, no one left to look after? Is that when you will finally look after you?”

I threw him off. “Don’t touch me,” I hissed. “You don’t get to touch me. Not like—not like that.” “Like what?” His voice was kind. “Like—like you don’t care.”

I was empty. After a whirlwind evening of hopes and disappointment, the emptiness was blessedly comforting.

Humans were not meant for isolation. We were not meant for loneliness.

“A candle unused is nothing but wax and wick,” I said. “I would rather light the flame, knowing it will go out, than sit forever in darkness.”