62. Blade Within.

62. Blade Within.


Esmarie Seraphine Vale

“How dare you?”

The words tore out of me like a blade I didn’t know I had inside.

I was shaking so hard my teeth rattled. My hands were still smeared with Ciro’s blood and my blood alike, sticky and warm, and the copper smell of it filled my nose until I wanted to gag. The hallway outside the infirmary was cold and dim, torches flickering on the stone walls, but I felt nothing except the fire roaring in my chest.

Hemne’s mouth opened, then closed. Thorne took one step toward me, palms raised like I was a spooked horse. His expression had shifted from disbelief to regret. He didn't mean to tell, but he had, and that had already set fire to the kindling burning inside my chest.

“Esmarie, calm—”

“CALM?” My voice cracked, raw and ugly. “He was out there dying while I was unaware. You both knew! You fucking knew, and you kept me in the dark like I’m some fragile little doll who can’t handle the truth!”

Tears burned down my cheeks, mixing with the blood on my chin. I hated the feeling, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop them even if I wanted to.

“And you,” I spat at Hemne. “I asked you a hundred times where he was. I could feel that something was wrong, yet you purposely made sure I was distracted by the lesson so that I wouldn't know!”

Hemne’s face went pale. “The lesson was important, Esmarie. Ciro wouldn't.....I didn’t want to scare you—”

“Scare me?” I laughed, but it only sounded cracked, slipping through my lips. ” You think hiding it from me now would protect me, but what do you think would have happened when I finally found out?"

Thorne tried again, voice softer. “Esmarie, listen. Ciro is omnipotent. He can’t just die. He’s survived this a hundred times—”

“I DON’T CARE!” I screamed so loud my throat burned. “I don’t care if he’s survived it a thousand times! He was hurt! He was bleeding in my arms, and you let it happen!”

My knees buckled. I caught myself against the wall, palms smearing red prints on the stone. My whole body shook with sobs that hurt more than the bite on my leg ever had.

Hemne stepped forward, eyes glassy. “Esmarie—”

“No.” I straightened, wiping my face with the back of my trembling wrist. My voice dropped, low and dangerous. “You are going to explain. Right now. Why did they do that to him? Why is Fenrick locked in a nice, quiet cell while Ciro gets struck by lightning? Talk.”

Hemne looked at Thorne. Thorne looked at the floor. Neither of them moved.

“I said talk.”

Hemne took a slow breath. When she spoke, her voice was flat, like she was reading from an old, hated book.

“Ciro is… an abnormality.”

I stared.

She kept going, eyes fixed on the wall behind me.

“From the day he was born, his power was uncontrollable. Too wild. The ability to change shape not just to a wolf as shifters can on every full moon, but at will and to any shape he desires is a feat that no one can possibly understand the gravity of. He could burn cities when he's angry, his power is unfathomable. And because of that, he lives by rules. And those rules have punishments if broken. Grave punishments like this.”

My stomach turned.

“The heavenly punishment is old,” she said. “It's an ancient practice that can be summoned only by the elders and the Divine Race. They call down lightning from the sky itself. It was meant to be used to kill sinners thousands of years ago. The Divine race abolished it when the orders from different species began to use it carelessly, but after the great war and the Divine race was wiped out…” She swallowed. “They brought it back. Just for him.”

My chest felt like it was filled with rocks.

Thorne spoke up, voice rough. “He can’t die from it. His body heals. But every time the lightning hits, it tears him apart first. Slowly. Painfully. And every time he gets a little weaker inside. Like pieces of him get burned away that never grow back.”

I pressed a hand to my mouth, tasting blood and salt.

Hemne kept talking, quieter now.

“Fenrick tried to murder the Alpha's mate. That’s treason. But Fenrick is normal. He’s just a wolf shifter with dark magic. The council can punish him with laws. Ciro… they punish with pain. Because they’re terrified of what he could become if he ever decided he was tired of their rules.”

I looked between them, disgust crawling up my throat.

“So let me get this straight,” I said, voice shaking with rage and tears. “Ciro has spent his whole life protecting these people. Fighting their wars. Bleeding for them. And because he was born different, because he’s stronger than they’re comfortable with, they torture him? Every time he uses the very power that keeps them safe?”

Thorne’s jaw clenched. “Pretty much.”

Hemne’s eyes were wet now. “He would never have agreed to let us tell you. He didn’t want you to know, and that was why he hid it.”

I laughed again, bitter and hollow.

“He had endured so much,” I whispered. “All this time he was carrying that alone.”

Silence fell, thick and suffocating.

I stared at the blood on my hands. He had been hurt so much by the people he called his own. In some sick, twisted way, we were very much alike.

I lifted my head, tears still falling, but my voice was steady now. Cold. Hard.

“Get me a chair,” I said quietly.

Thorne blinked. “What?”

“A chair. In the infirmary. Right next to him. I’m not leaving his side until he opens his eyes.”

Hemne opened her mouth to argue.

I looked at her, and something in my face made her stop.

“And when he wakes up,” I said, “we’re going to have a very long talk about hiding things from me.”

I didn’t wait for permission. I turned and walked back toward the infirmary doors, blood still drying on my skin, the glow under my chest burning quietly but fiercely.