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The Quiet After
Last Updated:
2025-10-26 16:44:19
Latest chapter
You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us The Stables at Night
Chapter One Hundred Thirty-One Maya’s POV The night air hit hard. Cold. Sharp. Real. The door to the hidden passage slid back into place behind us, sealing the dark away. For a moment, all I heard was my own breathing. Too fast. Too loud. Ethan moved first. He pulled me with him, guiding me across the clearing where the grass grew tall and unkept. The stables were close enough to smell hay and old leather, but far enough from the main courtyard that no torchlight reached us. His fingers were tight around mine. Not possessive tight. Urgent tight. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t need to. We ducked behind the far corner of the stable walls. Horses shifted inside, hooves scraping the dirt. One of them blew out a deep breath, sensing movement, or fear, or both. Ethan let go of me just long enough to press his back to the wooden boards and look toward the courtyard. I watched his jaw tighten. “Three patrols,” he murmured. “They’re moving faster than before.” I knew what that me
You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us The Eyes Beneath the Stone
Chapter One Hundred Thirty Maya’s POV Ethan’s hand was still on my arm when the sound came. Soft. Barely there. Like a whisper behind the wall. He didn’t hear it at first. His eyes were still locked on mine, his voice low, steady. “Talk to me.” But my gaze had already shifted past him, to the far end of the crypt — to where the light from his torch didn’t reach. There was movement there. Small, quick, almost too fast to catch. A flicker. Then gone. Ethan noticed the change in my breathing before he turned. “What is it?” “Someone’s here,” I whispered. He moved instantly drawing the dagger from his belt, his body tense, his stance shifting into something I’d only seen in battle drills. He scanned the darkness, eyes sharp, shoulders square, but the silence didn’t break. I took a step back, my pulse hammering in my chest. The crypt was too still. Too quiet. And then another sound. A low scrape, metal on stone, from the upper passage. Ethan looked up. “Sta
You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us Shadows in the Hall
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Nine Maya’s POV The castle felt different that night. Quieter. But not the peaceful kind of quiet — the kind that hums beneath your skin, the kind that makes you feel like you’re being watched even when you’re alone. I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, my fingers still curled around the folded parchment I had hidden beneath my sleeve. The letter Alvarez had received earlier was gone now but the words from it were burned into my memory. And the name I had whispered when I thought no one could hear. Lior. My brother. I shouldn’t have said it out loud. Not here. Not anywhere in this castle. But sometimes silence felt heavier than truth, and tonight it was choking me. The hallway stretched long and dim, the torches throwing soft orange shadows across the floor. I could hear the wind outside, sharp against the glass, the soft echo of footsteps in a corridor far away. Ethan’s room was down the other end. Part of me wanted to go to him. To te
You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us Whispers Beneath the Throne
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Eight Alvarez’s POV The council room had gone quiet long after Ethan left. Only the sound of the rain filled the space now, soft against the high windows, dripping from the gargoyles outside. The table was still cluttered with papers and empty glasses, the map of the southern provinces half-unrolled beside the candlelight. But I wasn’t looking at any of it. My attention was fixed on the torn edge of the letter Ethan had snatched from the messenger’s hand earlier. A corner had been left behind, small and easily missed. But I didn’t forget things. The paper was thick. Royal. But the ink — that deep black with a faint silver sheen that was old magic. The kind used by a group I had hunted years ago. The Shadow Circle. They were ghosts, or so I had told the others. A convenient story to bury the truth. You can’t hunt what the world doesn’t believe in. But they had never disappeared — they had only gone quiet, changing their marks, hiding in plain sight.
You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us The Symbol I Knew
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Seven Maya’s POV The meeting ended in chaos. Ethan’s orders were sharp, clipped guards moving fast, closing doors, sealing corridors but all of it sounded distant. Like I was standing underwater, listening to echoes. The letter was still in my hand. The paper had softened where my palm had begun to sweat. I didn’t even realise I was gripping it that tightly until Ethan’s voice cut through the noise. “Maya.” He was beside me now, the tension still hard in his jaw. “What was that look?” I didn’t answer. My heart was beating too fast, too heavy. The mark at the bottom of the page felt burned into my mind that small crescent carved through a line. A symbol I hadn’t seen since before I was brought here. “Don’t,” I said quietly, folding the paper again. His eyes narrowed. “Don’t what?” “Not here.” For a moment, neither of us moved. Then he nodded once and guided me out of the chamber, his hand firm on my arm. We passed through a corridor lined with gua
You Left, I Could Have Fixed Us The Message for Me
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Six Maya’s POV The air in the council chamber felt heavier than usual. It wasn’t because of the heat from the torches or the restless sound of boots shifting across the floor. It was something else. Something that made my skin prickle before anyone even spoke. Ethan was standing near the centre table, hands braced against the edge. His jaw was locked tight, the kind of tightness that meant he was holding something in. Alvarez sat at the far end, fingers tapping slowly against his armrest, his expression unreadable. I didn’t know why I was there. Not at first. Until the soldier stepped inside. He was young — too young to be this pale, too young to look like he hadn’t slept in days. He bowed once, eyes darting between the two men before landing on me for a split second. Then he looked down again, like he wasn’t supposed to. “My king,” he said, his voice rough. “The courier returned at dawn. He brought this.” He held out a small folded letter. The edge
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