Chapter 23 – Behind Bars

The corridor was silent when Ela returned the next night. She had waited until the guards changed shifts, until the shadows were deepest, until the academy was asleep and dreaming of things that had nothing to do with her. She carried no candle this time. She knew the way now. Her feet remembered every turn, every stair, every cold stone step that led down into the darkness where Nikolai was chained.

She found the door unlocked. That worried her. The guards were careless, or maybe they wanted her to come. Maybe the headmaster knew. Maybe he was watching right now, his gold-flecked eyes tracking her every movement. She didn't care. Let him watch. Let him see. She had nothing left to hide.

The cage was darker than she remembered. The torch on the wall had burned out, and the only light came from a faint sliver of moon filtering through a crack in the ceiling far above. But she could see him. She would always be able to see him. His white-blonde hair was matted, his skin was pale, and the silver burns on his wrists had spread, angry and red and weeping. He was sitting against the wall, his knees pulled to his chest, his head bowed. He looked smaller than she remembered. Broken.

Nikolai lifted his head when she stepped inside. His ice-blue eyes found her face, and something flickered across his expression. Not hope. Not relief. Something rawer. Something like pain. Why did you come back? he asked. His voice was a rasp, damaged from days of silence. You shouldn't be here.

Ela walked toward him. She stopped just out of reach, close enough to see the scars on his chest, the way his chains rattled every time he breathed. Because I can't leave you, she said. Because I tried, and I couldn't. Because every time I close my eyes, I see your face, and every time I open them, you're still the only thing I want.

Nikolai stared at her. His jaw tightened. His hands clenched into fists. You think I used you, he said. You think I'm just following the bond like a puppet on strings. Ela shook her head. I don't know what I think anymore. I don't know what's real and what's not. But I know that when I'm with you, I feel alive. And when I'm not, I feel like I'm already dead.

He pulled against his chains. The silver burned his wrists, but he didn't stop. He reached for her, his fingers stretching toward her face, and she didn't pull away. She let him touch her. She let his cold, trembling fingers trace her cheekbone, her jaw, her lower lip. I can't stop thinking about you, he said. Even when I thought you hated me. Even when I thought you were with him. Every moment of every day, you're there. In my head. In my heart. In my blood. I don't know if that's the bond. I don't know if any of this is real. But I know that I don't want to live in a world where you don't exist.

Ela leaned forward and kissed him.

His lips were cracked and dry, but they warmed against hers. He tasted like blood and salt and something else, something that was just him. She pressed closer, her hands fisting in his matted hair, and he groaned into her mouth. The chains rattled as he shifted, trying to wrap his arms around her, but the cuffs held him back. He could only reach so far. He could only touch so much. It wasn't enough.

Help me, he said against her lips. Help me get these off.

Ela looked at the chains. Heavy iron, lined with silver, bolted into the stone wall. There was no key. No lock. Nothing she could use to free him. I can't, she said. I don't have the tools. I don't have the strength.

Then come closer, Nikolai said. Come as close as you can. Let me feel you. Let me hold you. Even if I can't use my hands.

She moved into his arms. His body was hard against hers, cold from the stone, warm from the blood pumping through his veins. He pulled her onto his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, her chest pressed against his. His hands were still chained, but his arms wrapped around her as best they could, and he held her like she was the only thing keeping him alive.

I thought I lost you, he whispered. I thought you were gone forever.

I'm here, Ela said. I'm not going anywhere.

He kissed her again, deeper this time. His tongue swept into her mouth, and she tasted the desperation there, the hunger, the months of wanting and waiting and being afraid. Her hands roamed across his chest, tracing the scars she had never seen before, and he shivered under her touch. Every scar has a story, he said. Every story led me here. To you.

Ela pulled back. She looked at his face, at the shadows under his eyes, at the silver burns on his wrists. I'm scared, she said. I'm scared of the curse. I'm scared of what's happening to my body. I'm scared that every time we touch, I'm just making it worse.

Nikolai shook his head. The curse is already inside you. Nothing we do can change that. But I won't let it take you. I won't let it win. He pulled her closer, his lips brushing her ear. I need you, Ela. I need you so much it hurts.

She kissed him again, and this time she didn't hold back. Her hands slid under his shirt, pushing the fabric up over his chest, and he groaned as her fingers found his skin. He was so cold. She wanted to warm him. She wanted to make him forget where they were, forget the chains, forget the silver, forget everything except her.

He pulled at her shirt. The fabric tore, and she didn't care. She didn't care about anything except the way he was looking at her, the way his eyes had gone dark, the way his breath came in short, sharp gasps. He lowered his head and pressed his mouth to her collarbone, then lower, to the swell of her breast. She arched into him, her fingers tangling in his hair, and he took her nipple into his mouth.

Ela cried out. The sound echoed off the stone walls, and she clamped her hand over her mouth, afraid the guards would hear. But Nikolai pulled her hand away. Let them hear, he said. Let them know. I don't care anymore.

He sucked harder, and she moaned again, louder this time. His tongue circled her, teased her, drove her insane. She could feel herself getting wetter, could feel the ache between her thighs building into something she couldn't control. Please, she gasped. Please, Nikolai.

Please what? he asked against her skin.

Please don't stop.

He didn't stop. His mouth traveled down her stomach, his tongue tracing a path across her belly, dipping into her navel, making her shiver. He pushed her shirt higher, exposing more skin, and his hands—his chained hands—found the waistband of her pants. He pulled them down, and she lifted her hips to help him, and then she was naked from the waist down, and he was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

You're shaking, he said.

I'm cold.

Then let me warm you.

He lowered his head between her thighs, and his tongue found her center, and she forgot how to breathe. He licked her slowly, deliberately, like he had all the time in the world, like they weren't in a cage beneath the academy, like the curse wasn't killing her, like tomorrow didn't exist. She moaned and bucked against his face, and he held her hips down with his chained hands, keeping her still, keeping her right where he wanted her.

You have to be quiet, he murmured against her. Or do you want them to hear? Do you want them to know what I'm doing to you?

Ela bit her lip. The gold flickered in her eyes. She could feel it, the power rising, the blood waking up. But she didn't care. She didn't care about any of it. All she cared about was him. His mouth. His hands. The way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world.

He pushed a finger inside her, then another, and she gasped. He curled them, found the spot that made her see stars, and she clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. I can't, she said. I can't hold on.

Then don't, Nikolai said. Let go. I've got you.

She came apart on his fingers, her body convulsing, her mouth open in a silent scream. He watched her, his eyes dark, his lips wet, his chest heaving. He looked like a god. He looked like a monster. He looked like everything she had ever wanted and everything she was afraid to need.

When the shaking stopped, she reached for him. Her fingers fumbled with the button of his pants, and he helped her, lifting his hips so she could pull them down. He was hard and ready, and she wrapped her hand around him, and he groaned. Ela, he said. If you keep doing that, this is going to end very quickly.

Then don't end quickly, she said. Make it last.

He flipped them over. She landed on her back, the cold stone pressing against her spine, and he was above her, his chained hands braced on either side of her head. His body was a cage within a cage. But she had never felt more free.

He pushed inside her, and she cried out. He filled her completely, stretched her, claimed her. He started moving, slowly at first, then faster, then harder. The chains rattled with every thrust, the silver burned his wrists, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deeper, and he buried his face in her neck, and he whispered her name like a prayer.

You're mine, he said. I don't care about fate. I don't care about the bond. I don't care about any of it. I choose you, Ela. I choose you.

She came again, and he followed, and they clung to each other in the darkness, breathing the same air, sharing the same blood, bound by something that was so much more than magic.

Afterward, they lay together on the cold stone, her head on his chest, his chained arms wrapped around her. The silver was still burning. The curse was still spreading. But for this one moment, none of it mattered.

I love you, Nikolai said.

I know, Ela whispered.

She closed her eyes and listened to his heartbeat. Steady. Strong. Real. This was real. This, at least, was real.

A shadow moved at the end of the corridor.

Ela didn't see it. Nikolai didn't see it. They were too lost in each other, too consumed by the moment, too blind to the danger that was watching them from the darkness.

But Lukas saw.

He stood in the shadows, his green eyes fixed on the cage, on the couple tangled together on the stone floor, on the chains that rattled with every movement they made. His face was unreadable. His hand was wrapped around the hilt of a knife, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light.

He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just watched.

And when Ela finally opened her eyes and looked toward the corridor, there was nothing there. Just shadows. Just silence. Just the cold, empty darkness of a place that had seen too many secrets and buried too many truths.

But Lukas had been there. And he had seen everything.