Chapter Eighty-six

Chapter Eighty-six
Chapter 86

Lia’s POV

Sleep refused me that night.

The walls of my chamber felt too close, the sheets twisted around me like restraints, and my thoughts refused to still. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Edgar, his face pale, his eyes shadowed, his hand trembling when he thought no one noticed. And every time I reached for him in my mind, he pulled back, slipping behind walls I could not breach.

The silence between us had grown louder than any words.

It wasn’t always like this. There were nights when his arms had been my anchor, when his voice had been the balm that soothed every wound. But now… now I felt as though I slept beside a stranger.

He spoke little. He smiled even less. And when I pressed, when I dared to ask what plagued him, he gave me answers as thin as smoke, answers that vanished before I could hold them.

I turned over, staring into the darkness, my chest aching. A mate bond was supposed to bind souls, not tear them apart. Yet here I was, bound and unraveling at once.

And I feared. Oh, how I feared.

What truth was he hiding that he thought I could not bear?

At dawn, I gave up on sleep. The halls were quiet, the air damp with the chill of morning. I wandered aimlessly at first, seeking stillness, but my feet carried me toward the courtyard where the fountain stood.

Elena was already there. She leaned against her cane, her gaze fixed on the water as though it held answers. When she turned to me, her eyes softened, though I caught the glint of something sharper beneath.

“You’re awake early,” she said.

“So are you,” I murmured.

A corner of her mouth lifted. “Age doesn’t let me sleep much.”

We stood in silence for a while, the trickle of water filling the spaces between us. But Elena was never one for silence without purpose. She studied me, her gaze heavy, as though she were peeling away layers I barely knew I wore.

“You’re hurting,” she said finally.

The words cut deep because they were true.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

She gave a soft hum, the kind that said she didn’t believe me for a second. “You remind me of a hawk I once saw,” she said. “Wounded in the wing, still trying to fly. Stubborn, determined. But flight with a broken wing is only a fall.”

I bit my lip, fighting the sting in my chest. “What do you expect me to do? He won’t talk to me. He” My voice cracked. “He looks at me as though he owes me an apology I don’t understand.”

Elena tilted her head. “And have you asked yourself what you deserve?”

I blinked. “What?”

“You deserve the truth,” she said simply. “Not the fragments he feeds you. Not the silence he hides behind. The truth.”

Her words echoed, sharp and undeniable.

But before I could answer, she placed a gentle hand on mine, her grip firm despite the frailty of her skin. “Do not let fear silence you, child. Not yours, and not his. Secrets have a way of rotting everything they touch. Demand light before the rot spreads too far.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight.

Brie’s gaze lingered a moment longer, then she released me and shuffled away, leaving me alone with the sound of water and the storm brewing in my chest.

All day, her words clung to me.

Demand light.

The more I thought of them, the more the fury beneath my hurt began to stir. Edgar thought he was protecting me by carrying his burden alone, but all he was doing was driving a blade into the bond we swore to nurture.

He had fought wars, carried curses, bled for this pack. And yet, somehow, he believed I was too fragile to share the truth of what haunted him.

Did he not see? Did he not know what I had endured?

The memory of Duskwood flashed through me, the chains, the betrayal, the blood spilled to keep him alive. I had faced death, faced despair, faced the weight of a world collapsing. And through it all, my love for him had not wavered.

But now, his silence was the cruelest trial yet.

By nightfall, I could not keep the storm in me still.

I found him in his study, hunched over papers he wasn’t reading, the candlelight throwing shadows across his tired face. For a long moment, I just stood there, watching him. The man I loved. The man who carried the world and yet shut me out of it.

When he finally noticed me, his eyes flickered with something I couldn’t name, guilt, fear, longing. Maybe all three.

“Lia,” he said softly.

The sound of my name on his lips nearly undid me. But I held firm.

“We can’t keep going like this,” I whispered.

He stiffened, setting his quill aside. His silence pressed heavy, as if he waited for me to back down.

But I didn’t.

“I know you’re hiding something,” I continued, my voice trembling. “I see it in your eyes, I feel it in the bond. You’re tearing yourself apart, and you’re tearing me apart with you. And I can’t” My breath hitched. “I can’t love a ghost of you, Edgar. I need the man, all of him, even the parts he thinks will break me.”

He looked as though I had struck him. His hand curled into a fist against the desk, his knuckles white.

For a moment, I thought he would finally speak. I thought the walls would crack and the truth would pour out.

But instead, he whispered, “Not yet.”

The words cut deeper than any blade.

Not yet.

How long was I supposed to wait? How long before his silence became a cage I could no longer escape?

My chest burned as I turned away, the storm inside me raging louder than ever.

If he would not give me the truth, I would find it myself.

That night, I lay awake again, staring into the dark. Only this time, the silence no longer felt like suffocation. It felt like resolve.

Elena was right. Secrets rot. And if Edgar would not bring his truth into the light, then I would tear the shadows apart until I found it.

For my sake. For his. For us.

The storm in me had become fire. And fire, once lit, did not die easily.