Page 133 of Tears for a Broken Sky
“No,” I breathed. My voice felt thin.
“It’s alright, pet,” he said softly, stepping into the room. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Behind him, Thorne appeared—stone-faced. Emotionless. A wraith carved in the image of someone I used to know.
“You remember Thorne?” Vael asked, as if this were a cordial visit. As if Thorne wasn’t standing there like a hollow blade, watching me disintegrate internally.
My gaze darted around the room.
The door. The window.
No escape.
I was trapped.
I tried to summon my shadows—tried to reach for them with every shred of will I had—but they didn’t answer.
The manacles pulsed cold. Warded. Magic-sapping.
My chest tightened. My breath caught.
This isn’t real. This can’t be real.
Vael moved closer, each step deliberate. Slow.
I shrank back into the mattress as far as I could go, chains clinking softly with my movement.
He sat beside me like a lover might—like he had every right to. His hand lifted, brushing hair from my face with a mockery of tenderness.
I flinched.
And still, he smiled.
Vael’s fingers brushed my cheek.
I turned my head sharply, yanking against the manacles. The metal bit into my skin. I didn’t care.
He sighed, like I’d disappointed him somehow. “Still so full of fight,” he murmured. “That’s what makes you special, Elira. That defiance. It’s beautiful.”
I didn’t answer. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Vael leaned in closer, his breath cold against my neck. “You’ve been running for so long,” he whispered. “But it always ends here. With me.”
“Let me go,” I rasped.
He tilted his head. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”
Behind him, Thorne stood motionless. Long, angry gouges scraped down his cheek from my nails.
Good.
He was like a sentry. A watchful shadow.
I was frozen.
Detached.
My body existed in the room, chained to the bed, but my mind—gods, my mind was somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Somewhere that didn’t feel like hands trailing down my shoulders or breath brushing the shell of my ear.
