20: Narrow Escape

MAEVE

I tried not to think about him.

I really did.

I told myself he deserved whatever the council decided—told myself that someone who could put their hands around my throat and threaten my life without giving me the benefit of the doubt deserved it. 

He had treated me like I was nothing more than a slut. A convenient human blood bag, turning me into a blood whore. Something to fuck, use, and discard.

But still, he wouldn’t leave my head.

I paced my room, then stopped. Sat on the bed. Stood up again. I rearranged my desk. Moved my lamp from one corner to the other. 

Took everything out of my wardrobe and refolded it piece by piece, even the clothes that were already neatly stacked. I lined my shoes up perfectly. 

Wiped down surfaces that weren’t even dirty.

Anything to stay busy.

Anything to drown out the image of him standing under the sun.

It didn’t work.

My chest felt tight, like something was sitting on it. I checked my phone more times than I could count, even though I knew there wouldn’t be anything there. 

No message. No update. Nothing. No blogs carrying Lucien’s demise. 

Finally, I sank down on the chair by my bed.

I stared at the floor for a long moment.

Then I slid off the chair and went to my knees.

“I don’t know if you’re listening,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “But please. Moon Goddess… please don’t let him die.”

The words felt strange in my mouth. Desperate and Honest. Things I shouldn’t even think for Lucien, given the way he has treated me since I got here.

But it came from my heart.

“I don’t care what he’s done,” I continued softly. “Just… don’t let him burn.”

The moment the last words left my lips, something shifted.

The exhaustion didn’t hit all at once.

It crept in quietly, like something settling into my bones. My chest felt tight, and my breath became shallow, like I couldn’t quite pull in enough air. 

“What the—” I shook my head, trying to clear the haziness I was feeling in it, feeling like I might have just tired myself out. 

But nothing was working. 

A dull pressure wrapped around my head, growing heavier by the second.

When I tried to push myself up, my arms protested immediately, trembling as if they’d already been used up. They felt wrong. Heavy and disconnected from the rest of my body.

“What is happening to me?” I whispered.

The room swayed when I stood, not violently, just enough to make my stomach drop. My vision blurred at the edges, dark spots blooming and fading. 

Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong.

I took a step forward anyway, forcing my legs to move even as they shook beneath me.

Each step felt harder to take than the last.

By the time I reached the door, my heartbeat was loud in my ears, uneven and slow. I lifted my hand, aiming for the handle, but my fingers brushed it without gripping, sliding uselessly against the wood.

And by that time, my strength was draining out of me.

My knees gave out.

I barely felt myself fall. The floor rushed up, the world dimming rapidly, like someone turning off the light.

And then, everything went black.

****

LUCIEN

I waited for it to happen.

For my skin to split open and fire to consume me whole from the inside out. For pain so deep it would erase thought entirely.

It didn’t.

The burning peaked, sharp and merciless, and I was expecting myself to combust in flames immediately, but then slowly, and dare I say unnaturally, it began to fade.

I frowned.

The heat didn’t disappear all at once. It receded, as if something were pulling it back like a hand closing over a flame. My lungs are appropriately filled again. My knees stopped shaking.

Something was powering me.

The sensation felt very familiar. It felt like Hera’s magic, only that it was cleaner… gentler. It felt like it was Hera, but not Hera.

The realization barely registered before relief drowned out everything else. I was still standing. Still breathing. Still whole.

The skylight finished opening.

Nothing happened.

No smoke. No screams. No ashes.

Silence fell over the chamber, and I lifted my head to look at the council members who were staring at me like they were looking at a ghost.

Whispers broke out immediately.

“That’s… impossible.”

“He should be burning.”

“The tests were clear—”

The lead elder cleared his throat and stepped forward, suddenly all smiles and stiff politeness.

“Lucien Thorne,” he said, his tone painfully different from before. “It appears we may have… misjudged the situation.”

I said nothing.

An aide rushed forward with my clothes. My ring was returned to me with both hands, reverent now. Very careful.

“We deeply regret the manner in which this trial was conducted,” another council member added quickly. “Of course, there will be consequences for those responsible for spreading these lies.”

“Every blogger involved will be punished,” someone else chimed in. “Their accounts will be frozen, and their licenses will be revoked.”

I dressed slowly, deliberately, watching them trip over their words.

When I was finished, I finally spoke.

“So,” I said calmly, slipping the ring back onto my finger. “Did you all enjoy yourselves?”

They stiffened.

“Enjoy? No, of course not!” the lead elder said hastily, shaking his head and letting out a nervous laugh. “This was a necessary procedure—”

“It wasn’t a procedure. It was a humiliation.” I cut in.

Silence.

I stepped closer, eyes sweeping over each of them.

“Three months,” I continued evenly. “No salary. No status. No council privileges.”

Their faces drained of color.

“And you will each submit handwritten letters of apology,” I added. “Everyone of you. Addressed to me.”

Murmurs of protest rose, quickly silenced by my raised hand.

“You’re lucky I’m in a generous mood,” I said coldly. “Consider this mercy.”

They nodded frantically.

I turned away without waiting for a response.

“I’m done here,” I said. “I have someone to see.”

And this time, when I walked out of the council hall, no one dared to look me in the eye.