Chapter 9

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‎The world came back slowly, heavy, like waking from a dream that wasn’t mine. My head throbbed, my mouth dry, tasting of something bitter and wrong. I was on a bed, not my own, the sheets cold and unfamiliar, the air thick with a scent—wood and spice, sharp like a blade. My body ached, heavy, like it didn’t belong to me. I blinked, the room spinning, dark with only a sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains.

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‎I sat up, my heart pounding, my hands shaking as I pulled the blanket tight around me. My dress was gone, replaced by a thin shift I didn’t remember putting on. Panic clawed at my chest, sharp and cold. Where was I? What had happened? Cassian’s smile flashed in my mind, his hand on my arm, the glass of dark liquid burning down my throat. My stomach twisted, a sick feeling spreading through me.

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‎The door creaked open, and I flinched, pulling the blanket tighter. A figure stood in the doorway, broad and tall, his red eyes glowing in the dark. Rex. His face was stone, but his eyes burned, not with the cold anger I knew, but something fiercer, something raw. He stepped inside, his boots loud on the floor, and the air seemed to shrink, pressing against me.

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‎“What did you do?” he asked, his voice low, shaking with something I couldn’t name. His eyes flicked over me, taking in the shift, the tangled hair, the fear I couldn’t hide.

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‎I opened my mouth, but no words came. My mind was fog, pieces missing. “I—I don’t know,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Cassian… he gave me something. A drink. I didn’t…” My throat closed, tears burning my eyes. I didn’t know what had happened, but I felt it, the violation, the betrayal, like a wound I couldn’t see.

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‎Rex’s jaw clenched, his hands fisting at his sides. He turned away, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, I thought he’d leave me there, alone in this stranger’s room. But he didn’t. He grabbed a cloak from a chair and threw it over me, his movements sharp but careful, like he was afraid to touch me. “Get up,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re not staying here.”

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‎I stood, my legs weak, the cloak heavy around me. My head spun, but I followed him, my bare feet cold on the floor. The hallway was dark, the portraits staring down, their eyes like knives. Rex moved fast, his steps angry, but he kept glancing back, making sure I was there. I wanted to ask where we were going, what he knew, but my voice was gone, swallowed by shame and fear.

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‎He led me to a room I hadn’t seen before, smaller, with a single window and a plain bed. A servant stood inside, her eyes wide, her hands twisting a cloth. “Clean her up,” Rex said, his voice sharp. “And don’t let anyone in.”

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‎The servant nodded, her gaze flicking to me, soft with something like pity. Rex turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm, my fingers shaking. “Wait,” I said, my voice barely there. “What happened? What did he do to me?”

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‎He stopped, his eyes meeting mine. For a moment, that raw pain was back, deeper than before, like he was breaking inside. “Cassian will pay,” he said, his voice low, a promise. “You don’t need to know more. Not now.”

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‎He pulled away, and the door shut behind him, the sound final. The servant moved quickly, bringing a basin of water and a cloth, her hands gentle as she wiped my face, my arms. I sat still, my body numb, my mind racing. Cassian’s smile, his hand on mine, the drink—it all came back in flashes, each one sharper, cutting deeper. I’d trusted him, just for a moment, and now I was here, broken in a new way.

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‎The servant didn’t speak, but her eyes said enough. She knew. They all knew. I wanted to scream, to tear the walls down, but I just sat there, letting her clean me, letting her wrap me in a fresh dress. It was plain, soft, but it felt wrong, like everything in this place.

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‎When she left, I curled up on the bed, the cloak still around me, Rex’s scent clinging to it—pine and iron, steady but sharp. My chest ached, not with the warmth I’d felt before, but with something heavier, like grief. I didn’t know what Cassian had done, not fully, but I felt it, the weight of it, like a stain I couldn’t wash off. And Rex—his anger, his pain—it confused me. Why did he care? Why did he look at me like that?

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‎Hours passed, or maybe minutes. The door opened again, and I flinched, expecting Cassian, but it was Rex. He looked different, his hair messy, his eyes darker, like he’d been fighting a war inside himself. He didn’t come closer, just stood there, watching me.

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‎“He’s locked up,” he said, his voice flat but tight. “Cassian. He won’t touch you again.”

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‎I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. I wanted to ask why, to demand what Cassian had done, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I whispered, “Why do you care?”

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‎His eyes flashed, something fierce and broken in them. “You’re my responsibility,” he said, but it sounded like more, like a confession he didn’t want to make. “I brought you here. I won’t let him hurt you.”

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‎My heart twisted, torn between anger and something softer. I wanted to hate him, for bringing me to this place, for letting Nyla touch him, but his words, his eyes—they pulled at me, like that warmth I’d felt before. I looked away, my hands clenching the cloak. “What about her?” I asked, my voice sharp. “Nyla. Is she your responsibility too?”

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‎His jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer right away. “Nyla is… complicated,” he said finally, his voice low. “She’s not your concern.”

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‎The words stung, sharp and cold, like a slap. I turned away, my eyes burning. He didn’t owe me anything, I knew that, but it hurt, deeper than it should have. I was his bride, his name next to mine, but I was nothing to him. Just a debt, a prophecy, a burden.

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‎A shout came from outside, loud, urgent. Rex’s head snapped toward the window, his body tense. “Stay here,” he said, his voice sharp, and he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

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‎I stood, my legs shaky, and moved to the window. The courtyard below was chaos—wolves running, their eyes glowing in the dark, their voices sharp with panic. Torches flickered, casting shadows that moved like beasts. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. My heart raced, the warmth in my chest stirring again, faint but real, like a spark catching fire.

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‎The door burst open, and I spun, expecting Rex, but it was a woman—Nyla. Her red dress was gone, replaced by dark leathers, her green eyes glinting with malice. “Well, well,” she said, her voice sharp, a smile curling her lips. “The cursed wolf, all alone.”

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‎I backed up, my heart pounding. “What do you want?” I asked, my voice trembling but firm.

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‎She stepped closer, her smile growing. “You’re in the way,” she said, her voice low, like a growl. “Rex thinks you’re special, but you’re nothing. Just another girl who’ll break.”

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‎My breath caught, fear mixing with anger. “Get out,” I said, my voice sharper now. “You don’t scare me.”

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‎She laughed, cold and cruel. “Oh, I should. You don’t know what’s coming.” She moved closer, her hand reaching for something at her belt—a dagger, its blade catching the moonlight.

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‎Before she could move, the door slammed open again, and Rex was there, his eyes blazing red. He grabbed Nyla’s arm, twisting it until she dropped the dagger with a gasp. “Enough,” he growled, his voice shaking the room. “You go too far.”

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‎Nyla pulled free, her smile gone, her eyes cold. “You’ll regret this, Rex,” she said, her voice venom. “She’s not worth it.” She turned and left, her steps sharp, like she was already planning her next move.

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‎Rex turned to me, his eyes searching mine. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost gentle.

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‎I shook my head, my throat tight. “No,” I whispered, but it was a lie. I was hurt, not by Nyla’s blade, but by everything—Cassian, her, him. My chest ached, that warmth pulsing again, stronger, like it was trying to tell me something.

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‎He stepped closer, his hand hovering near my arm, like he wanted to touch me but didn’t. “You’re safe now,” he said, his voice low. “I won’t let her near you.”

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‎I looked up, my eyes meeting his, and for a moment, the world stopped. His pain was there, raw and open, like a wound he couldn’t hide. I wanted to ask why, to understand what I was to him, but the shouts outside grew louder, pulling him away.

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‎“Stay here,” he said again, his voice firm, and he was gone, leaving me alone with the warmth in my chest and the chaos outside.