Rosalia — POV
I felt as though my very soul was being drained, pain gnawing deeper and deeper into , tearing at my core until my senses stopped working.
Everything before turned dark and hazy.
The world around dimd, swallowed by shadows that pulsed and twisted at the edges of my fading vision.
It felt like being subrged underwater, unable to breathe, unable to think-just drowning in agony.
My entire body scread that I had reached my limit, begging to give up, to surrender, to break.
My muscles shook terribly and my bones seed to tear from each other thread by thread.
Every heartbeat was like a hamr against my ribs, a throb of pain that echoed in my skull.
But I held on.
I clenched my teeth.
A raw, guttural sound ripped from , half-growl, half-sob, driven by stubbornness and terror.
I couldn’t cease.
Not now, not ever, could I yield.
Because stopping ant death.
an loss.
ant a future I refused to accept.
Henry’s life was literally in jeopardy.
His pale, weakening face flickered in my mind like a desperate prayer.
I could not, must not stop...not for one mont.
Not while hope still flickered, fragile, trembling, but alive.
I no longer felt anything.
My body was numb from the pain; I could not even feel the blood sliding from my mouth, my eyes, my ears.
Warm trails slid down my skin, but they registered only as distant sensations, like they belonged to soone else.
Not until soone grabbed —hard—and tore away from Henry with a force that was rciless and overwhelming.
The world spun violently, and my ears filled with rushing air.
My heart lurched.
"No... no!"
My voice cracked, little more than a rasp, and it felt like shattered glass scraping through my throat.
I hardly had words; the pain was just too much to bear.
Without any visible injuries, the pain was surreal—indescribable.
It felt like sothing inside was breaking, fracturing, splintering apart beyond repair.
No wonder the heroine couldn’t bear using this power.
Even I wouldn’t, if not for my fear of losing Henry.
That thought sent fresh terror ripping through my chest.
Henry...
I have to heal Henry.
I have to save him.
His na had been a plea and a promise and a desperate vow.
I struggled violently to free myself from the arms restraining .
My nails scraped against fabric, skin-anything I could reach.
My legs kicked uselessly at the air.
My vision was blurry and out of focus; I couldn’t tell who was standing before .
All that was in my sight was a tall, dark figure. Strong hands clamped around my waist.
Overwhelming in presence, it seems, with power and command that weighed upon the air itself.
When all my efforts failed, desperation overwheld and I began to plead.
My throat tightened.
My heart pounded painfully.
"Let go...please... Henry—Henry is dying. I have to save him... let go!"
My voice cracked on his na-a broken, shaking plea.
I couldn’t see what I looked like, and I didn’t care.
I didn’t need a mirror to tell I was a bloody, shaking ss.
But instead of loosening their hold, the grip around my waist tightened, and suddenly I felt my feet lift from the ground.
My breath hitched.
My stomach lurched.
I was being carried away.
Dragged from the one thing I needed to reach more than anything.
No matter how I begged or fought, the dark silhouette would neither listen nor show even one shred of rcy.
So I cried loudly, terrified to fail, terrified to watch soone die in front of while I stood helpless.
Sobs tore out of , raw and uncontrollable. Tears mixed with blood on my cheeks.
Terrified that this world would follow the sa tragic script written in the novel I once read.
No matter how much I would try to convince myself that it wasn’t true, the events just seed to push everything along the sa path.
Every prophecy in that damned story hung over like a curse.
And I feared the future I rembered all too well.
A cruel future, rciless, inevitable.
A future in which my favorite villain loses everything.
Including the pieces of himself that he fought so desperately to protect.
Everything as well as his own life.
That thought alone sent a cold spike straight through my heart.
It was that fear which had not given a single mont’s rest since the day I ca into this world.
Even in my dreams, I chased the shadows of tragedies I was terrified to relive.
"Don’t cry."
The voice cut through the haze, deep enough to shake sothing inside .
Slowly, my senses returned, and those were the first words I heard.
They anchored .
Pulled back from the edge of panic.
A deep voice—harsh, cold...
Yet full of an odd, fierce sort of pity.
Like a storm, barely contained beneath a thin layer of ice.
But beneath it, there was sothing else: a suppressed anger... maybe even fear?
I wasn’t in my right mind to analyze it, but his voice pulled on sothing inside of .
A familiar ache.
A familiar warmth.
I looked forward, and after a few seconds, my eyes began to clear and the pain in my body subsided.
Shapes sharpened.
Colors returned.
The world steadied.
Reflected in my eyes was the face of the one closest to my heart and soul—
The person I had sworn to do the impossible for.
My tether.
My reason.
My disaster.
The villain whose fate I desperately wanted to change.
The tragic man whose na was carved by fate into sorrow.
The man I had wished happiness for more than anyone in this world deserved it, for he deserved better.
He deserved everything he had been denied.
"Rosalia, don’t cry. And don’t ever hurt yourself like that again... or I won’t know what I might do."
His voice trembled on the last words—slightly, but there.
I heard his voice the second ti- But now frad by the familiar, chilling expression of my beloved villain.
Anger, hate, and an unshakeable resolution sharpened his features.
The kind of expression that made n kneel and beg.
At that instant, Cassel looked terrifying.
Shadowed.
Dangerous.
Absolutely lethal.
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