Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Rhea.
The walls of my room pressed in like a coffin. After much deliberation, I retreated back to the room Alaric had pointed out to be mine earlier when we arrived. It took a while before I came back here, but at the same time, it didn't feel like too much time had passed at all.

Call me crazy, but a tiny part of me couldn't help but feel like the number one reason why he left me all alone in his room, was simply because he wanted me to feel comfortable.

A laugh almost slid past my lips at how delusional I was being. If there was anything Alaric could boast of, it was his ability to not give a shit about anyone.

Without warning, my mind flashed back to the scene in the tunnel, where he'd given me his shirt as a pillow, and back to when he pulled me out of the blood bank, and back to when he'd appeared right in time to save me from blacking out again.

Oh.

His words, “It wasn’t me who sealed the bond, little flame. It was you” still burned in my chest like a brand. Every breath reminded me that I wasn’t free, that no matter how far I thought I could go, there was something pulling me back. Him, and not only that, I actually had a hand in it.

I sat in the silence my room brought. It was crazy, but my body thrummed for something, even if it was the tiniest flicker of adrenaline.

It was stupid and maybe a death sentence for the both of us, but I just needed to know how strong it really was.

Gripping the edge of my desk, I dragged a blade from the drawer. It was the tiny pocket knife I’d hidden before my first escape plan.

My pulse skittered as I flicked it open, and it took a little over ten seconds to steady myself again.

“It’s just a test,” I whispered to no one but myself. “If it’s real, he’ll feel it. If not, then maybe I still have a choice.”

The edge bit into the skin of my palm, shallow but sharp enough to sting. Red liquid welled instantly, and I sucked in a breath, half expecting silence, and expecting something else too. I got nothing. But then, distant and faint, a thread of sensation tugged at me. Not mine, but his.

The knife clattered from my fingers, as a small gasp slid past my lips m I wiped the blood away quickly, wrapping my palm with cloth, but my chest tightened with something heavier than guilt.

That meant it was true. Every reckless move I made, he’d feel it, every ounce of pain, was tethered to him, but still, I wasn’t done.

I shoved my door open and bolted down the corridor. My body screamed against the bond even before I made it outside, a vice tightening around my lungs. I pushed harder, forcing my legs to carry me farther. The air thickened until I staggered, knees buckling, dizziness curling up my spine.

“Damn it,” I wheezed, clawing at the ground.

The world tilted, and I felt this close to death, and then he was there. Alaric’s hand gripped my arm hard enough to bruise as he hauled me upright, eyes blazing like twin storms.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice was sharp, guttural, the sound of a man holding back something dangerous. “Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Testing it.” I ripped my arm free, glaring despite the haze. “I wanted proof, and now I have it.”

“You call this proof? What did you think the disappearing act in my room back there was meant to do?” His hand shot out, catching my bandaged palm. He ripped the cloth away, exposing the raw cut beneath, and I watched his jaw clenc. “You hurt yourself. On purpose.”

“Better me than you,” I snapped.

His nostrils flared, and for a terrifying moment I thought he’d shake me, but he only let out a low, bitter laugh.

“You think this is some game? That I care about the sting of a cut?” He leaned closer, voice dropping into something harsher, darker. “I don’t give a damn about pain. But you…” His gaze dragged down my hand, then back to my face. “You risked your life to deny me. That, Rhea, I will not allow.”

The words cut sharper than the blade had.

“Eat shit, Alaric.” I turned my face away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the tremor in my throat. “You can’t cage me forever.”

He said nothing, and in one swift movement, I yanked my hand free from him before storming back inside the house.

That night, I dreamt, but the dream wasn’t mine. I saw smoke, and heard screams so loud they almost punctured my ear drums. There was a room drenched in firelight and blood, and I felt the sting of betrayal sear across a chest that wasn’t mine.

I heard a voice I didn’t recognize whisper venom at someone, You’ll never be free.

I stumbled through it as if the ground were ash beneath my feet. Faces flickered, but for the life of me, I couldn't see who they belonged to. One in particular, his voice sharp and cruel didn't stop hurling insults at me, with a promise to find and end me.

When I woke up, it was with with a strangled gasp, the sheets damp with sweat, and my hands trembling as if I’d lived it myself.

My chest rose and fell in ragged beats, and even though the dream was a messy mixup, I couldn't shake off the fear that had settled deep inside my bones. It coiled around me like a rattlesnake, and I just knew it was the kind that didn't leave after a hot cup of cocoa.

I was still lost in thoughts when the door creaked open to reveal Alaric. From his spot over there, he looked blended in the shadows and I could only shiver at the thought of how long he'd been standing there.

“What did you see?,” he asked, not as a question but almost a grim acknowledgment.

“I don't know.” I swallowed hard, words scraping up my throat. “Those weren’t my memories.”

“No.” His eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them. For the first time, I thought I saw fear.

“What is this?” My voice cracked. “Why can I see things I have no memory of?”

Alaric’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. The silence returned again, but this time I felt its effects to be worse.

“You should get some sleep.” He whispered after what felt like forever. “We’re going out tomorrow.”

And without so much as another word, he slammed the door shut, leaving me with a million and one questions running through my mind.