Ethan is Isabel's soul mate. Ethan is Isabel's soul mate. Ethan is Isabel's soul mate. No matter how many times I said it to myself, I couldn't accept it. The words crushed and collided with each other violently in my head. Not making sense. Sounding wrong, at least in my mind.

Perhaps what Isabel felt for Ethan was just a child's crush. That's it, nothing more. I knew this way of comforting me was just going to get me hurt later, but for now, it was all I could hold onto. I knew she thought about me, how could I not? I felt awful for prying into her thoughts like that. But the simple fact was I couldn't help myself.

She thought about my muscular arms, and how calm and mysterious I was, perhaps it was just infatuation. She seemed in awe of me. Most people are, even if I don't want them to be. Isabel was one of the few I didn't mind.

Apparently she also liked my violet eyes, the way she thought they could see into her soul, and instantly made her forget everything. I smiled at the memory of the dreamlike thoughts and allow myself a deep breath to clear my head. I get to my feet and almost fall back in my chair again from the wave of grief and dizziness that hits me, I walk to the bathroom, rubbing my forehead with my sweaty palms and lightly tugging my tangled blue hair.

I remembered I hadn't brushed it this morning. It hadn't crossed my mind. Frankly when the one girl you have ever truly been in love with dies, and you best friend, your apprentice, and person you trust completely, takes it upon themselves that he and her were always meant to be together, and that he was always meant to save her.

Save her from death itself.

Something only soul mates could do for each other. Somehow brushing your abnormal blue hair doesn't seem important. Especially when the one person you brushed it for, to make yourself look presentable, wasn't there to see it. And may never be again.

When I reach the sink I immediately cup my hands under the ice cold water and splash it over my face, it settles in droplets on my cheekbones, and starts trickling down my neck. I lean heavily on the bench top and look in the small bench top mirror. I nearly let out a sob when I see what's staring back at me. A man, with vivid blue hair and dulled violet eyes, and slight stubble beginning to form on his chin and cheeks. Under his eyes are huge dark circles, and his eyes are moist and streaked with red.

I grab the mirror in my fist and squeeze, letting out all my anger, frustration and hurt. Hating it for showing me how alien I must look, to everyone. How could any normal girl love me when I looked like this? Quite obviously, they couldn't. And never would. The mirror shatters, and a million small pieces of glass fly around me. My shameful face reflected in every one, and my blood sparkling on their every jagged surface.

I turn away, oblivious to the incredible pain in my hand. I could've hit myself. I was being selfish. So selfish. I should be watching Ethan, giving him help, advice. That was all I could do now. And besides, the physical pain I felt from the glass still embedded in my flesh, would be nothing compared to the pain I would feel at losing Isabel. I couldn't lose her. Even if she was not mine to lose, I refused to let myself fall into the trap of referring to her as a possession.

I squeeze my fist tighter as a punishment for my already aching body. It was nothing the healers could not fix.

I walk swiftly back to the main room of my chambers, and walk round and round my equipment until my scrambled mind remembers which one was monitoring Ethan. I stare at the screen. What I see does not make me feel any better. I see Ethan running, running as fast as he can towards an almost translucent figure, which I recognise instantly as Isabel. She is almost half a kilometre away from him, climbing a sheer cliff easily; she seems to almost be floating. My eyes snap back to Ethan. What the hell is he doing now? It doesn't take long before I am able to answer my own question. He's cowering from something.

Oh, for goodness sake.