Chapter 30 Ugly Truth

Chapter 30 Ugly Truth
Kael

The door sealed behind us with a finality I had learned to respect years ago.

Fear made you hesitate, and hesitation got you killed down here.

Lyra stumbled slightly as the darkness swallowed us whole, her grip tightening instinctively around my hand, but I didn’t slow down. If anything, I moved faster, pulling her deeper before she could fully process where she was.

Because if she did—she might refuse.

And I didn’t have the luxury of letting her refuse.

“Kael…” Her voice wavered behind me. “I can’t see anything.”

“I know.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“It’s not meant to be.”

The words came out colder than necessary, but I didn’t take them back. I couldn’t afford softness here. Not now. Not with them this close.

I stopped.

Not because I wanted to because I had to.

The moment I did, the darkness shifted.

Not like before.

Not like the thing in her room.

This was older.

A faint glow flickered to life along the walls, one after the other, like something had sensed my presence and decided to acknowledge it. Symbols carved deep into the stone began to pulse with a dim, sickly light, revealing just enough of the corridor to make it worse.

The walls weren’t smooth.

They were marked.

Scratched.

Layered with carvings that overlapped each other in chaotic patterns, some fresh, some so old they had nearly faded into the stone. They weren’t just symbols.

They were attempts.

Attempts to contain something Or to understand it.

Lyra’s breathing grew uneven behind me. “What is this place?”

I didn’t answer.

Because there wasn’t a version of the truth that would make her feel better.

“This is where we buried our mistakes,” a voice echoed from deeper within.

Lyra flinched. I didn’t.

I knew that voice.

“Still dramatic, I see,” I said flatly.

A figure stepped out of the dim light ahead, slow and deliberate, like he had been waiting for us. His presence wasn’t loud, but it was heavy, the kind that pressed against the air and made it harder to breathe.

Elias.

He looked exactly the same.

Too young for someone who had been down here this long. Dark hair falling just above his eyes, expression calm in a way that didn’t quite feel human anymore. His clothes were clean, untouched by the decay of this place, which only made it worse.

Because nothing stayed untouched down here.

Nothing except him.

“You brought her,” Elias said, his gaze shifting to Lyra.

Lyra moved slightly closer behind me, her fingers tightening again. “Who is that?”

“Someone who shouldn’t still be alive,” I replied.

Elias smiled faintly. “And yet here I am.”

Another presence shifted to the side.

Then another.

Two more figures stepped into view.

The first was a woman, tall and unnervingly still, her long hair falling over one side of her face, partially hiding the thin, jagged scar that ran from her temple to her jaw. Her eyes were sharp, watching Lyra with an intensity that felt invasive.

Mara.

The second was a man leaning casually against the wall, though nothing about him felt relaxed. His gaze flicked between me and Lyra, calculating, amused in a way that made my skin crawl.

Silas.

Lyra’s breath caught softly. “Kael…”

“I know.”

“You brought her here,” Mara said, her voice quiet but edged with something dangerous. “After everything we told you.”

“I didn’t bring her here for you,” I replied.

Silas let out a low chuckle. “No, of course not. You brought her for yourself.”

The words hung in the air.

Lyra shifted behind me. “What does that mean?”

I didn’t answer her.

I couldn’t.

Not yet.

Elias stepped closer, his gaze never leaving Lyra. “She’s stronger than the last one,” he said.

My jaw tightened.

“We didn’t have a choice with the last one,” I said.

“You always have a choice,” Mara replied softly. “You just didn’t like the outcome.”

Lyra’s grip on my arm tightened. “Kael… what are they talking about?”

Silence stretched.

I exhaled slowly then I turned to her.

For the first time since we stepped into this place, I didn’t look at her like something I was protecting.

I looked at her like something I needed.

“There’s something inside me,” I said.

Her brows furrowed slightly. “What?”

I held her gaze.

“Something I can’t control.”

The words felt heavier here.

More real.

“It wasn’t always like this,” I continued, my voice quieter now, but steady. “It started during the war. Something we encountered. Something we weren’t supposed to survive.”

Elias smiled faintly. “But he did.”

“Barely,” I corrected.

Lyra’s eyes searched mine, confusion turning into something else. “What does that have to do with me?”

I hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then—

“It’s killing me.”

The words landed between us.

Her expression shifted instantly. “What?”

“I don’t have time,” I said. “And whatever is inside me… it’s getting stronger.”

“That’s not—” she shook her head. “That doesn’t explain why I’m here.”

“It does,” Silas cut in smoothly. “He just doesn’t want to say it.”

“Shut up,” I snapped.

But it was too late.

Lyra looked at me now, really looked, and I saw the moment it clicked.

The moment she started to understand.

“No…” she whispered.

My chest tightened.

“Your blood,” I said.

Her breath caught.

“It can stabilize it,” I continued. “Suppress it. Maybe even remove it completely.”

“You’re using me,” she said.

Not a question.

A realization...I didn’t lie.

“Yes.”

The word felt heavier than anything I had said before.

Her hand slipped from mine.

Slowly like she couldn’t believe she had been holding on in the first place.

“You said you were protecting me,” she whispered.

“I am.”

Her eyes burned now, not with fear.

With something worse, betrayal.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re protecting yourself.”

The truth sat between us.

Ugly.

Unavoidable.

Elias stepped closer, his voice calm, almost approving. “At least he’s honest now.”

Lyra didn’t look at him.

She didn’t look at anyone else.

Just me.

“What happens to me?” she asked.

I didn’t answer immediately.

Because there wasn’t a version of it that didn’t sound exactly as bad as it was.

“What happens to me, Kael?” she re
peated, louder this time.

The silence stretched.

Then—

“That depends,” Mara said quietly.

Lyra’s gaze snapped to her.

“On how much of you it takes,” Mara finished.

The room went still.

And for the first time—

Lyra looked at me like I was the thing she should be afraid of.