Every Breath Novel Novels & Stories

This was clearly the welcome of a primary consort. I smiled a bitter smile. Yet my chest no longer ached with that sour, painful feeling. My gaze slowly grew dim and lifeless. In the empty rear courtyard, I stood in plain black clothes, completely out of place among the manor's festive cheer. In the biting cold wind, my body grew lighter and lighter, slowly turning transparent. Then I dissolved into the wind and rode it away. … In the bitter cold of that winter night, thunder suddenly crashed, and a torrential downpour began.

Anthony peeked out from behind her, looking smug. I collapsed onto the floor, finally snapping back to my senses. Looking at my sister's blazing eyes, mine turned red. "Sis, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad." I struggled to my feet, enduring the unbearable itch crawling across my skin, and began putting every rubber figurine back where it belonged. In the end, my throat was so swollen I could barely breathe, and my face turned a sickly blue before I collapsed onto the ground again. Yessenia watched me gasp for air while still trying to clean up. She seemed a little taken aback.

Breath syncing without intention. When he kissed her, it was different from before. Not cautious. Not restrained. Still gentle, but deeper. Like a question, I finally asked out loud. She responded without hesitation, fingers sliding into his hair, grounding herself in the reality of him. The kiss was unhurried. Warm. Honest. No urgency. Just presence. When they finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his. “We are terrible at timing.” He smiled. A real one. Soft around the edges. “We are excellent at choosing anyway.”

Now she stood at the treeline, heart pounding, staring at the faint glow of torches from the great hall. And then she felt it. The pressure in her chest surged, sharp and unbearable, stealing the air from her lungs. Her knees buckled. One hand clawed at her breastbone, as though she could pry away the invisible grip crushing her. She gasped, trembling, her breath coming in shallow, frantic pulls. “Breathe,” she whispered to herself, though every attempt felt like drowning. And then, across the distance — she felt him. A pulse. A tether. Something slamming into her spirit with the force of a storm. The air rushed back into her lungs, cold and sweet, like she’d broken the surface of a deep, da

To breathe. Nova pushed the door open and stepped out, the cool night air hitting her, and for a moment, she just stood there, breathing it in, trying to calm the storm inside her. But it was no use. The dam she’d been holding back gave way, and the tears she’d fought so hard to hide came spilling over, hot and fierce.

The air was too still. That kind of quiet that doesn’t feel safe, just loaded, like the world itself was waiting to snap. My ribs ached every time I breathed, and the scar down my side felt like it was splitting open with each step. Blade walked a half-step ahead of me, jaw tight, scanning shadows like they owed him answers. Nova was behind us, carrying Isla close, whispering to her just low enough that I couldn’t hear the words. Comfort, maybe. Or prayer.

"Ian, I was wrong. I'll admit to the mistake. Please let me out. I can't breathe in here. "Ian, please let me out. I'm suffocating. I could hardly breathe in here. "Ian…" While reading those unsent messages, Ian felt his vision turn black. He plopped down on the floor.

My skin tightens hard enough that my breath catches. Thank you for freeing them, little Queen. Oud. Black saffron. Old incense that clings long after the fire’s gone cold. Now they belong to me. Three hundred people who were breathing their own air one heartbeat ago stop breathing at once. Then their heads turn toward me. Among them is the boy I freed first. His hands are still at his throat. His eyes are cobalt. All of them watching.

Since I learned, within hours of arriving, that I was collateral against a debt I had never signed for. I have been breathing shallowly for ten days. I have been taking in only as much air as I needed to stay upright, to keep my hands steady on the deeds, to meet Domenico's eyes across the dinner table without flinching. Now I breathe deep, and the air tastes like rain and ozone and the salt of my own skin, and I let it fill my lungs until my ribs ache.

And for the first time in months, I feel like I can breathe. End of Chapter 133