I was still shoving at his chest, hands trembling from anger, from fear, from exhaustion—hell, I didn’t even know anymore. He barely moved under my touch, but I kept pushing, as if sheer desperation could make him disappear.
His gaze bore into , unreadable, patient in a way that set my teeth on edge.
"Enough."
One word.
Cold. Detached.
It should’ve been a warning, but I wasn’t in the mood to listen.
"Get out." My voice cracked, but I forced myself to glare at him through my tears, chin tilting up defiantly.
His jaw tightened. He didn’t budge.
I felt like a cornered animal, chest heaving, throat raw.
The silence stretched between us like a blade.
Fine. If he wouldn’t leave, I would.
I spun on my heel, ready to walk away, to slam the door in his face and pretend none of this was happening—
But before I could take a single step, his fingers curled around my wrist.
Not hard.
Not painful.
But enough.
Enough to stop .
Enough to send a shiver up my spine, to make my breath hitch as his warmth seeped into my skin.
I turned back to him slowly, heart hamring.
"Let go."
A muscle in his jaw twitched. He didn’t release .
"Let go!" I yanked my arm back violently, but his grip only tightened slightly—still careful, still controlled.
His restraint infuriated .
Why was he holding back?
Why did he always act like he was above everything—above —like my pain, my rage, my entire existence didn’t touch him at all?
"You never listen." His voice was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it.
I let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, I’m sorry. Am I supposed to listen to the monster who just admitted to killing an innocent person?"
His eyes darkened further, but he remained silent.
"Or maybe I should listen to the monster who isolates from the only people who’ve ever shown kindness? The one who locks in this cursed tower like so broken doll?"
Still nothing.
And that silence—that silence—made sothing inside snap.
"Or should I listen to the monster who told to my face that he’s incapable of love?" My voice wavered, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
"Because you know what, Your Majesty?" I spat the title like poison. "I finally believe you."
Sothing flickered across his face—so fast I almost missed it.
But I wasn’t done.
"LET. . GO"
The words left my lips before I could second-guess them.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then a sharp, searing pain exploded in my chest.
I gasped, choking on air, clutching at my heart as if I could physically hold it together.
It hurt.
Goddess, it hurt.
Like sothing was being torn out of .
I staggered back, legs buckling, vision blurring at the edges.
No.
No, I wouldn’t fall.
I refused to fall.
I clenched my teeth, trying to fight against the pain, trying to stay standing—
But my body betrayed .
My knees gave out, and the floor rushed up to et .
Strong arms caught before I hit the ground.
"Darling." His voice was rough now, urgent.
I shoved at him weakly. "Don’t..." I wheezed, "—fucking touch !"
He flinched.
Actually flinched.
But he didn’t let go.
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t breathe.
Everything was spinning, tilting, crashing down around .
My body wasn’t my own anymore, wracked with an agony I couldn’t escape.
Then everything went blank.
___
I woke up to the quiet hum of the wind against my window, my body sinking into the mattress like dead weight. My limbs ached, as if I had been fighting sothing in my sleep, trapped in a war I didn’t rember.
The air was cold.
Colder than usual.
And the space beside —empty.
He was gone.
I turned my head slowly, my cheek pressing into the soft pillow as I stared at the empty side of the bed. The sheets were slightly rumpled, but no lingering warmth remained. If he had been here, he hadn’t stayed long.
Good.
He had no reason to be here.
No reason to touch .
No reason to—
I clenched my jaw and rolled onto my side, curling into myself as a heavy sigh pushed past my lips. I felt hollow. As if sothing inside had been scooped out and discarded, leaving only an aching void in its place.
It wasn’t just exhaustion.
It was everything.
The weight of my choices.
The agony of rejection that still burned in my chest.
And I didn’t know what was worse—the fact that I was still tied to him or the fact that he was cruel enough to keep shackled against my will.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fingers gripping the sheets as frustration tangled with my exhaustion.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to tear at my own skin until I found the invisible thread binding us and rip it out.
But I couldn’t.
Because it wasn’t just physical.
It was sothing deeper.
Sothing ancient.
Sothing stronger than either of us.
My wolf—if I still had one—would have howled in despair.
But there was nothing.
Only silence.
Only .
Alone in this cursed tower, trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.
The familiar, suffocating weight of hopelessness pressed down on , but I forced myself to breathe through it.
In. Out.
In. Out.
My chest ached with the effort.
I opened my eyes again, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The chandelier above flickered slightly, the candlelight casting restless shadows across the walls. The room was still, unnaturally so, like the entire world had been frozen in ti.
Outside, the wind howled against the windows, rattling them in their fras.
Inside, everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
Xylara.
I turned my head, searching for her.
She was curled up at the foot of the bed, ears twitching, her small body rising and falling with each slow breath.
For a mont, I just watched her.
The steady rhythm of her breathing, the soft sound of her tiny sighs.
My cat’s were the only real thing in this room.
The only warmth left in my life.
I reached out, running my fingers through her fur, letting the silky texture ground in the present.
Her ears flicked at my touch, and after a mont, she lifted her head, sleepy golden eyes eting mine.
I swallowed hard, my throat thick.
"Don’t worry, Xylara," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll get us out of here. Sohow."
She let out a small, tired ow and stretched, pressing her tiny paws against my arm before curling back into a tight ball.
I exhaled heavily.
The promise felt empty.
Because I had no idea how to keep it.
I turned onto my back, staring at the ceiling once more, my heart thudding against my ribs.
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