Chapter 126

I don't know how much time has passed.

Three, four, five hours?

Twelve?

I felt like I had lost more weight than I had consumed during the week. My metabolism was working as if I had lived five years in just a few hours. It had taken me to the point of exhaustion, insisting on leaving that place, but I couldn’t.

I had gotten used to the darkness, but the sensation of my stretched muscles would be impossible to reverse. My wrists were bleeding from the brutality of the ropes. I felt like the blood was no longer flowing through my veins, paralyzing me in a way that corroded my organs.

My system was disconnected from my existence.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I would go insane if I stayed another second there.

Despite the euphoria from the danger surrounding me, I was sleepy. But every time my head drooped, my feet off the ground and the fear of becoming defenseless gave me the energy to keep my eyes open.

At one moment when my brain was about to shut down, I heard the door creak.

I quickly lifted my head, though I still couldn’t see anything but darkness.

"Who’s there?" I asked, exhausted.

No one answered, but I felt a certain presence.

"I don’t have anything you want, please. Leave me alone," I begged.

Though I didn’t dare show weakness, lamenting my state might make me leave.

I knew them, damn it. Wouldn’t there be any compassion?

No response came, only the sensation of someone approaching.

Finally, something touched me.

I reacted violently, kicking my feet out and possibly hitting a leg. A groan of pain whispered in my ear.

"I didn’t remember you being so aggressive."

My breath was cut off.

"Jaxon?"

My wrists felt relief in that instant. I collapsed into his arms and was placed on the ground. My feet were numb, so walking was harder than trying to cross the ocean.

"Jaxon, is that you?" I asked again. His sigh was confirmation. "What’s going on? Please, explain. It was him, wasn’t it? You had lived a normal life. Why are you doing this?"

"I’m not the one who’s going to give you the answers. But it wasn’t him. It’s us."

"Asher asked for some map. I don’t know what it is."

"It’s not the best time for you to lie."

I shook my head.

"I’m not lying. I don’t have it!" I screamed. "Please, Jaxon, get me out of here."

"In exchange for what, Emília?" he asked, with traces of fury. "You’re an easy path for what we want."

"You’re so wrong. I don’t…"

A cold object was pressed against my neck.

Air tightened in my throat due to the pressure, my mouth unable to absorb a single breath in that area.

I could feel the sharp point inviting itself to end my life.

"Don’t say another word and just come with me," he whispered threateningly. "Don’t even think about doing anything stupid. We’ll hunt you down, Emília. We’re hungry for it."

My heart fought against my chest.

My life was being threatened by the same boy I once wanted to protect. Just like all of them.

"You weren’t like this."

"We’ve always been. You just never wanted to see."

I was coerced to walk. I knew we left that place by the change in atmosphere. However, the bitter taste that ruled my mouth was the food of my fear.

What would they do to me? What more would they want from me?

They assumed I was lying, but I was swimming in a sea of ignorance far more extensive and frightening than theirs.

We headed to another room. Much warmer, tighter, as there was no echo.

Jaxon shoved me into a wooden chair. I could feel the hardness from the impact against my butt as I sat down. My hands were shackled to the iron arms of the chair.

I was once again captive, unable to move or determine an escape route.

"What are you doing?" I asked, though I knew the answer would never come, just like the reason for all this bullshit.

Jaxon’s secrecy and his departure after tying me up as a prisoner drove my fury to the extreme. I started kicking my legs, pushing the chair to move, screaming as if the steam from a train was stored in my throat.

"Fuck! Get me out of here, you assholes!" I raged, as if my life were in the devil’s hands and nothing more could be done but to ask a god for help.

I knew what they were capable of.

I had seen what those bastards could do to those they hated. To those they targeted.

I had been a naive fool. I didn’t know what was coming when I met them.

They were the ruin. The silence. The pain. The emptiness.

They were what death would look like if it had dark hair and a mischievous smile.

Especially him.

So, I couldn’t give in. Not to them. Not to him.

He would kill me just like he did four years ago. And my death was not a gift for that bastard. He couldn’t have it.

I screamed with more fury, my heart corroding as if it had limbs and each one was being ripped off by my own strength from the hatred.

An exit. I had to wait for a chance to escape.

However, the atmosphere shifted.

Something had entered.

Someone.

Part of me was still a magnet drawn to the opposite pole he carried.

To all the hell he possessed, as if it were his pet.

"You’re still fucking loud."

That voice.

That damn voice.

His fingers crossed my neck and removed the blindfold. I took a while to open my eyes out of fear. Anger. All the resentment I held for that asshole.

But as soon as I did, his figure crouched in front of me turned my stomach.

God, I hated him.

"Dante…"

The most abominable smile marked his mouth.

"Welcome back to my hell, pulchra."