Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Rhea.
The iron door slammed shut with a clang that rattled the tunnel walls, and darkness swallowed us once again. My chest heaved, no, it broke, as I forced my eyes to adjust all over again. Around us, the lights stamped against the walls wavered slowly and as I took them in, I fought the urge to cry.

Why? Just why? Why did I get the feeling of hope, just for fate to snatch it away again?

A small but surprisingly loud hiss from my side was all it took to pull me out of my thoughts. I didn't need to think too much to figure out whom it had come from, but it didn't make it any less annoying.

Alaric stood with his hand still pressed to the iron doors, smoke curling faintly from the skin that had brushed the sunlight. He didn’t flinch, didn’t groan in pain, he only seethed, with his jaw locked tight. The stench of burned flesh clung to the air and somehow it only made it all the more worse.

“So much for your flawless escape plan,” I said before I could stop myself.

“Careful, little dove.” His head turned, and the weight of his stare pinned me. “Your tongue is sharper than your wit. It may cut you one day.”

“Or maybe,” I shot back, fists clenching, “it’ll cut through the arrogance of a man who didn’t think this through.”

“You think I didn’t know what awaited? Daylight always comes.” His lips curved, not into a smile, but something darker. “But unlike you, I do not panic when it greets me.”

“Then what do you suggest?” My voice rose, cracking under the edges of my fear. “We’re trapped!”

He pushed off the door, moving toward me with the deliberate grace of a predator stalking prey.

“Trapped?” His low laugh scraped down my spine. “No, little dove. We're just merely delayed.”

“Delayed?” My chest burned, but for a moment I struggled with if it had anything to do with the nickname, or the impending doom we were currently in. “We were a breath away from freedom!”

“Freedom?” He stopped just close enough that I could feel the chill radiating off him. His gaze swept over me like a stormp, and it took everything in me not to shudder. “Step outside, then. Walk into the sun, and see how long your freedom lasts when those soldiers find you.”

“Maybe I should go alone.” The words were foolish, even to my own ears, but they slipped out like defiance always did when he was near. “That would be better for both of us.”

“Try it. You’ll be dead before you take ten steps.” His smirk sharpened, cruel and amused. “And if the sun doesn’t kill me, I will drag you back myself for daring to disobey.”

The silence after his words burned hotter than the sun outside. I hated him, hated the certainty in his voice, and hated that deep down I believed him.

He was right after all, but could Iet him know that? Not in a million years.

Before I could snap back, a sound reached us. It was distant, and bounced off the walls, but definitely unmistakable. It sounded like boots striking stone, and worse? It was more than one pair.

“Ah.” Alaric’s head tilted slightly, the faintest gleam of hunger flashing in his eyes. “It seems our hosts have realized their birds have flown the cage.”

“They’re coming.” My blood ran cold.

“Yes,” he murmured, almost pleased. “Let’s make it interesting, shall we?”

“Interesting?” I hissed, my pulse racing. “We're going to get caught!”

“Only if you waste any more time.” His smirk widened and I hated it.

“Keep up with me, little dove, and you live. Fall behind…” He let the silence stretch, letting the implication sink sharp into my bones. “…and they can have you.”

I wanted to tell him to go to hell, that he could drive a stake deep into his heart, but I didn't. Instead, I moved before he did. I wasn't sure how I'd missed it, but there was a small tunnel to the right of the iron doors. My feet pounded against the stone floors, and for a moment, I didn't bother to check if Alaric was following.

The air grew colder, the space tighter with each step I took . I fought the panic clawing at my throat, the memory of that guard’s death pressing in on me, just so I could get away from the guards behind.

I wasn't sure how long I ran for, but believe me when I said the last thing I expected was to see Alaric, in flesh and blood, leaning against one of the pillars in the chamber.

“What the…?” I trailed off, clearly at a loss of words. “Didn't I just leave you behind?”

“Appears so.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but the gleam in his eyes still remained. “You certainly could have done better, but at least you were able to outrun the guards.”

“I'm not even going to bother.” I was breathless, so I channeled my energy into trying to catch my breath, and not whatever black magic he might have performed back there. The chamber was carved from stone, its vaulted ceiling heavy with cobwebs. The air stank of damp earth and age. It looked like a crypt, half, forgotten, but it was space, at least.

“We wait out the day here,” he said all of a sudden, his voice a command rather than a suggestion.

“And what?” I swallowed hard. “Just sit here with you?”

“Better with me,” he said lazily, “than out there, with them.”

“I should be the judge of that, not you.” I rolled my eyes. “Don't you think?”

“Why?” His smirk widened. “Afraid I'll bite?”

I didn't answer, and the mother fucker must have taken it as an opportunity to play a stupid prank, because he bared his fangs shortly after.

“You wouldn't be dare.” I hissed.

“Never say never.” His voice dropped. “but if you're a good girl, I promise it won't sting.”

A small gasp slid past my lips, and I absolutely loathed my mind for reading a double meaning into his words. That wasn't all though, it took a miracle to hide the heat racing up my cheeks.

What the hell was wrong with me?

A wave of silence stretched after that, broken only by the faint drip of water somewhere deeper in the stone passages.

“You’re not going to pretend I didn’t see that,” I said sharply, planting myself in front of him. “The way you just disappeared back there and appeared here. What are you?”

Alaric leaned lazily against the wall, though I could see the stiffness in his shoulders, the way exhaustion still clawed at him. Yet his smirk was intact, mocking and infuriating.

“What am I?” His voice rolled low, like smoke. “That’s the question you should have asked the first moment you met me.”

“Don’t play games,” I snapped. “I want answers.”

“And yet,” he drawled, eyes gleaming in the dimly lit space, “you ask questions you already know you’re not prepared to hear answered. You want me to tell you that I am some creature from your nightmares? That your instincts were right all along?”

“Yes.” Heat rose in my chest, a mix of fear and fury. “If that’s the truth, then say it.”

“The truth, little one, is a matter of perspective.” He laughed, soft but sharp enough to cut. “Some call it a curse, others call it a gift. I prefer to think of it as inevitability.”

“You’re not answering me,” I hissed.

“Oh, but I am.” He pushed off the wall and stepped closer. Even weakened, his presence pressed against me, heavy and commanding, stealing the air from my lungs. My pulse betrayed me, thrumming wildly. His eyes, dark and unreadable, caught mine and held them. “Every answer I give you is a truth. Just not the whole of it. What would you do if you knew all of me? Run screaming? Or worse, stay?”

“You twist words like a snake.” I took an instinctive step back, hating the way he made my skin prickle, hating even more that part of me wanted to lean closer instead.

“And still,” he murmured, the ghost of a grin tugging at his mouth, “you listen.”

“One day, I’ll drag the truth out of you.”
I clenched my fists, forcing steel into my voice. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, Rhea.” His smirk deepened. “I’m counting on it.”

The words struck harder than I expected. My lips parted, but nothing came out, no retort, no fury, nothing but a shiver down my spine I hated myself for feeling.

Then, faintly, I heard it. Not boots this time, but something else. It was a soft scrape against stone, and a whisper that wasn’t quite human.

“Alaric.” I froze. “Did you hear that?”

Alaric’s head lifted, and his smirk was gone in an instant. He pushed off the pillar, every line of his body sharp, and I just knew that wasn't a good sign.

The scraping grew loude
r, and closer now, and when he glanced at me, the gleam in his eyes was no longer amusement. It was steel.

“Run.” he let out. “now.”