Chapter 27 Chapter twenty-seven
I could feel the tension pressing against my chest long before Claus opened his mouth. For days, we had been circling the same argument, Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia. His name had become a curse between us, and today, Claus was ready to wield it like a weapon.
“You’re taking his side again,” Claus said, his voice rough and low, the kind of tone that always made me brace myself. “You always do.”
I stared at him, exhausted. “Claus, I’m not taking anyone’s side. I just think—”
“You think he’s right. You always think he’s right.” His eyes, usually steady, burned with something sharp and wounded. “Do you even hear yourself when you speak about him?”
Something inside me cracked. I’d been patient for so long, tiptoeing around his temper, trying to calm the storm instead of fighting it. But tonight… tonight I couldn’t. My throat felt tight with frustration, and my words came out before I could stop them.
“Why do you keep accusing me of things that don’t exist?” I snapped, my voice rising with every word. “Do you think I enjoy this? The constant suspicion? The constant questioning? You act like I’ve done something wrong, like I’ve betrayed you!”
Claus’s jaw tensed. He took a step closer, his expression hardening. “Then tell me, Ellie, why do you defend him so fiercely? Why does it bother you when I speak ill of him? Why do you look away every time he’s mentioned?”
My heart slammed painfully against my ribs. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” His voice sharpened. “Because I’m not blind. Anyone can see it. The way you look at him. The way you rush to his defense.”
“That’s not fair!” I shouted. “Sylvia has done nothing but help us, and you twist everything into something ugly!”
“Maybe it’s not me twisting things,” Claus growled. “Maybe it’s you pretending not to feel what you feel.”
The words hit me like a slap. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to deny it, scream that he was wrong but the look in his eyes told me he already knew too much. I felt stripped bare, every hidden thought, every forbidden heartbeat suddenly exposed.
And that was when Sylvia, silent until now, shifted from where he stood near the doorway.
His smirk subtle, unreadable, curved just slightly at the corner of his mouth. I caught it, and my stomach twisted. H
Claus noticed too. His anger flared brighter. “You see? Even now, he can’t keep that look off his face”
“Claus...” I tried to stop him, but he cut me off.
“Do you enjoy this, Sylvia?” Claus’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “Watching my mate argue with me because of you? Do you like that she defends you more than she defends me?”
Sylvia’s smirk faded, his dark eyes locking on Claus. “You’re imagining things,” he said coolly, but there was an edge in his voice now, a warning, maybe, or something he was trying to suppress.
“Imagining things?” Claus took a step closer, his shoulders squared. “You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t notice how she’s always too comfortable around you?”
Silence fell like a blade between us.
I froze. My breath hitched. The words too comfortable echoed in my mind, loud and unbearable. My fingers trembled at my sides, and before I could even process the shock, Sylvia’s composure snapped.
“What did you just say?” His tone was sharp, dangerous, his calm completely gone. “What exactly are you implying, Claus?”
Claus said nothing. He just stared at Sylvia, his lips pressed into a thin, trembling line. I saw the regret in his eyes too late, he realized he had gone too far. But the damage was already done.
Sylvia took a step forward, fury blazing in his eyes, and for a second I thought he might actually hit him. My instinct kicked in, and I stepped between them, palms raised. “Stop! Both of you, stop this!”
Neither listened.
Claus’s breathing was heavy, his fists clenched at his sides. Sylvia’s gaze darted to me, and in that moment, something raw passed between us, an emotion we both refused to name. It was enough to silence us all, to make the air so thick it felt impossible to move through.
Sylvia finally tore his gaze away. “I’m done here,” he muttered, his voice low. “Whatever is between you two, don’t drag me into it.”
And just like that, he was gone. The door slammed behind him, leaving a cold emptiness in his wake.
I turned back to Claus, my heart pounding, my throat burning. “Are you happy now?” I whispered.
Claus didn’t answer. He just ran a hand over his face and turned away. For once, he looked more tired than angry. But it didn’t matter anymore—the words had been said, and nothing could take them back.
THE NEXT DAY
The next morning, the Cyprus came to check on me. My head still throbbed from the night before, and she insisted I stay another day in the hut to rest. I didn’t argue. I didn’t have the strength to. Claus hadn’t come to see me since our fight, and Sylvia… I didn’t even know where he was.
When the healer finally discharged me later that day, I felt hollow, like my body was moving but my soul was still stuck in that room, between two brothers and a thousand unspoken things.
I walked slowly back to my chamber, the sunlight too bright against my aching eyes. The guards bowed as I passed, but I barely noticed them. My mind was still replaying every word, every glance, every flicker of emotion from last night.
Too comfortable.
Claus’s words haunted me. Because the truth was, I had been. Sylvia had always felt like a place I didn’t have to guard myself. He was quick with his words, sharp with his wit, but gentle in ways Claus never noticed. He made me laugh when I shouldn’t have, made me think when I tried not to. I told myself it was friendship. Loyalty. Gratitude. But deep down, I knew it was something else.
Something dangerous.
I sat on the edge of my bed, rubbing my temples. I needed peace, quiet, anything but the chaos that lived inside my chest. For a moment, I almost drifted into sleep, until the sound of horse running shattered the silence.
Galloping. Fast. Urgent.
My heart skipped a beat. I rose quickly and crossed to the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to see.
There he was.
Sylvia.
His silver hair caught the sunlight, his expression grim as he rode into the courtyard. My breath caught when I realized he wasn’t alone.
A woman was in his arms.
Her head resting against his chest as he held her tightly. Her long hair spilled over his arm like dark silk, her dress torn at the edges. He dismounted quickly, lifting her effortlessly from the saddle.
I didn’t know who she was, but jealousy flared in me before reason could speak. It was like a knife twisting in my gut, sharp and immediate. My fingers gripped the window frame so tightly they ached.
Who is she?
Why is he holding her like that?
Why does it hurt this much to see him with someone else?