Page 120 of Tainted Souls
“She lives,” Ace tells him, his tone matter-of-fact. “But she remains locked up and under watch.”
Relief washes over my brother’s features.
Ace turns back to me one last time. “Don’t mistake this for mercy, Seraph. You are alive because you’re useful, nothing more.” His eyes harden. “And if you ever harm another member of my household, I’ll do worse than just tear your heart out.”
With that, he strides away, leaving my brother and me alone.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” Saul asks in a hushed voice once Ace is out of earshot.
I edge up the last steps with shaky legs, the full weight of what just transpired settling over me. “I think I just made a deal with the devil.”
Saul sighs, his mouth quirking in a humorless smile. “I hope he gave you a receipt.”
He offers his arm for support, which I accept gratefully. As we make our way back through the mansion’s umbrous corridors, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve crossed a threshold from which there’s no return.
I’ve acknowledged a threat greater than my personal vendettas. And somewhere in the back of my mind, a small voice whispers that maybe, just maybe, Saul was right. Maybe there are no heroes, just survivors trying to navigate a world more complex than I ever imagined.
The thought doesn’t comfort me. But for the first time since I was captured, it gives me something I desperately need: a purpose beyond escape, beyond revenge. A reason to stay alive long enough to see what happens next.
We turn down a familiar corridor, but instead of heading toward the areas I recognize, Saul leads me through uncharted passages. We climb a narrow staircase that spirals upwardrather than down. The space is more open here, the ceilings higher, though I note the windows still bear the same bars that prevent escape.
Saul opens the door to reveal a modest but comfortable chamber. “Your new accommodation.”
The cell—because that’s still what it is, despite the upgrades—is nearly three times the size of my previous prison.
A proper bed sits against one wall, dressed with linens and pillows that look almost inviting. A compact writing desk occupies the corner. Even a bookshelf stands nearby, stocked with leather-bound volumes. The floor is partially covered by a worn but serviceable rug, and a basin of fresh water sits atop a side table. From the heights of the window, I can see part of the gardens where Ace and I walked that night, as well as the stone bench where he spoke of sides and choices.
“It’s better than the cold, empty cell I occupied before,” I remark.
“Ace’s idea of compromise,” Saul says, gesturing for me to enter. “Comfortable enough to keep you from madness, sparse enough to remind you of your position.”
I step inside, trailing my fingers over the furniture, appreciating the feel of real wood rather than metal bolted to stone.
On the desk sits a pitcher of water, a loaf of bread, and a covered tray that smells of roasted meat.
Nothing lavish, but after days of near-starvation, it looks like a feast.
I gobble all of it down, manners forgotten in the face of hunger.
Saul watches with a mixture of amusement and concern. “Ease up, or you’ll make yourself sick.”
I force myself to pause between bites, meeting his gaze with a smirk that feels almost like old times. “Remember when I puthoney in your boots because you cut off my braid while I was sleeping?”
“How could I forget?” He shudders dramatically before closing the door behind him. “I was sticky for days. But you have to admit, that haircut improved your looks considerably.”
I flick a piece of meat at him, which he dodges easily. “No, it didn’t.”
“If you say so,” he teases.
The mattress gives beneath my weight as I sit, soft enough to sleep on without pain. My mouth is still stuffed when I speak. “Do you like it here?”
Saul sits beside me, our shoulders nearly touching. “I belong here. It’s not always easy, but it’s where I need to be.”
I nod, understanding the distinction. Belonging isn’t always about happiness. It can be about purpose, too.
He leans back against the wall, stretching his legs out before him. “And you?” he asks. “How’s life among humans been?”
I swallow hard, the last bite finally sliding down. “Lonely. But safer, in a way. Less complicated.”
