Chapter 13: tough choices

Chapter 13: tough choices
The room felt like it was going to tear apart. Onyx and Skye were inches from each other, muscles tense, their shadows stretching long in the glow of the fire. And me, stuck between them like a piece of meat dangling in front of two starving wolves.

My chest heaved, my palms clammy as the heat of their anger pressed against my skin.
"Stop!" The word ripped out of me, raw and broken. My throat burned. "Just stop!"
The sound cut through the air. For a moment, it was like the castle itself had gone quiet. The fire crackled. The wind outside pushed against the window panes. My heart thudded painfully in my chest.

Both of them froze.

Onyx’s piercing eyes flicked toward me first, his chest rising and falling like a storm contained in human form. His knuckles were white at his sides, the veins on his arms straining as if it was taking everything he had not to rip Skye’s head clean off.
Skye stood stiff, chin raised high in defiance, his lips curled into that familiar, infuriating smirk he wore like armor. He looked at me with those crimson eyes, calculating, assessing, as though my outburst wasn’t fear but some new card he could play.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold my body together, trying not to shake. My voice cracked when I said, "I can’t… I can’t do this. Not like this. I didn’t ask for any of this."
"Blair," Onyx said, his tone softer than I expected. The way he said my name almost hurt. But there was steel underneath it, sharp and heavy. "He doesn’t get to put his hands on you. He doesn’t get to keep you locked in his room like some possession."

"And you do?" I shot back before I could stop myself. My words sliced the air, and for once, he didn’t have a quick reply. His eyes darkened, but he stayed silent, his jaw clenching so tightly I could almost hear his teeth grind.

Skye let out a low laugh, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. "Interesting, isn’t it?" he said, tilting his head, his silver hair glinting in the firelight. "The bastard son pretending to be a savior, when in truth, he’s no better than Father."

Onyx lunged forward at the insult, his hand shooting out to grab Skye’s collar, but I screamed again, louder this time, the desperation tearing out of me. "Enough!"

My chest heaved. My legs trembled, but I forced myself to step forward, putting my body right between theirs. Their heat, their fury, pressed in on both sides. I could feel my knees wanting to buckle, but I didn’t move.

"I’m not a prize," I whispered, my voice shaking but sharp. "I’m not something you two get to fight over like children arguing over toys." My eyes burned as I looked between them. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to stand here while you, while you tear at each other like I’m not even a person?"
Onyx’s grip on Skye’s collar loosened, and for the first time since I’d met him, he looked… uncertain. His eyes softened, flicking down to my trembling hands, then back up to my face.

Skye’s smirk faltered, and though his expression was still cold, I caught the flicker of something else in his gaze, shame, maybe, or guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
"You’re right," Onyx muttered finally, stepping back, though his voice still carried that edge of defiance. He ran a hand through his dark hair, turning away like he couldn’t stand the sight of me or Skye for another second. "You’re right… but that doesn’t mean I’m letting him anywhere near you again."
Skye straightened his collar with deliberate calm, his pride practically dripping from every movement.

"And what will you do, Onyx? You think you can parade her around and Father won’t tear her apart? That Morgana won’t rip her to shreds before she’s even had a chance to breathe? You don’t care about her. You care about proving you can take something that belongs to me."

"She doesn’t belong to you!" Onyx roared, spinning back to face him. His voice shook the air, rattled something deep inside me. "She’s my mate. You can’t even begin to understand what that means."
Skye sneered, his eyes narrowing. "And what has that bond given her so far? Fear? Pain? You claim her, yet all she feels is trapped between us. Tell me, brother, does that sound like fate or just your arrogance dressed up in fancy words?"

I felt sick. Every word they threw at each other was like a knife in my ribs, twisting deeper and deeper. And worst of all, I knew Skye wasn’t completely wrong. Onyx had claimed me in front of the entire court, ripped me from the dungeon, paraded me as his, and yet here I stood, more lost than ever.
"I don’t want either of you right now," I said quietly, my voice breaking.

The silence that followed was deafening.
Onyx’s expression crumpled for half a second, the mask slipping just enough for me to see the wound underneath. Skye’s jaw tightened, his pride flickering like a candle about to burn out.
I took a shaky breath.

"I just… I just want to be left alone." My voice cracked. "Is that so impossible? Can either of you give me that?"

Neither spoke.

I didn’t wait for an answer. My hand shook as I gripped the handle, my heart slamming against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
Behind me, I could feel Onyx’s stare burning into my back, heavy and possessive. I could feel Skye’s sharp gaze, calculating, unwilling to let go.
I turned the handle and slipped out into the cold hall. The moment the door closed behind me, I exhaled, shaky and broken, like I had been holding my breath the entire time.
And then it started.

Onyx’s roar of fury shook the walls, guttural and raw, a beast denied its prey.
I flinched, pressing my back against the door, my hands trembling as I slid down until I was sitting on the cold stone floor. My vision blurred with tears, but I blinked them away, pressing my palms against my face.
I didn’t know who scared me more.
Onyx, with his feral devotion that felt like chains around my neck.
Or Skye, with his cold obsession and the weight of his family’s power behind him.
All I knew was that I was drowning, and no one cared if I sank.
The sounds of destruction inside the room finally stilled, replaced by the eerie silence of the castle halls at night. But his anger hung in the air like smoke, seeping into my skin, refusing to let me go.
I stayed there on the floor until my legs stopped shaking enough for me to stand. And even then, I didn’t know where I was supposed to go.
I didn’t belong in his room.

I didn’t belong in Skye’s.
I didn’t belong anywhere in this cursed castle.
And yet, somehow, both of them insisted I was theirs.