Chapter 17 – Fractures
The drive back from the observatory was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that hummed with unspoken truths and lingering adrenaline. Raven kept her eyes fixed on the blur of city lights streaking past the window, but she could feel Elijah beside her, he was still, unreadable, although tension radiated from him like static.
Her body was sore, her mind frayed. Wrath had left its mark, but the memory of Elijah’s chains and Cassian’s taunts clung to her like smoke. She should have been replaying every detail, cataloguing every lead. Instead, her thoughts circled around Elijah—his voice when he’d told her she was stronger than Wrath, the way his eyes softened when the mechanism released, the brief flicker of vulnerability she wasn’t supposed to see.
“You hesitated,” he said suddenly, his tone even but sharp enough to cut through her fog.
Raven’s head snapped toward him. “I disarmed the rig. You’re alive. Mercer’s alive. What exactly is your problem?”
He gripped the wheel tighter. “Cassian wanted you to hesitate. He counted on it. That hesitation—” he broke off, exhaling through his nose, “—it could’ve cost lives.”
Her temper flared. “And yet it didn’t.”
For a moment, their glares collided in the dim light of the dashboard. Then Elijah’s lips curved into a humorless smile. “You remind me of her, you know. Zara. Stubborn to a fault. Always convinced she could outthink everyone else.”
The name hit like a knife to her ribs. Raven’s breath hitched, but she forced steel into her voice. “Don’t you dare use her memory as leverage against me.”
Elijah slowed the car, pulling into the shadow of his gated estate. The security system recognized his vehicle, the iron gates swung open silently. As the car rolled forward, he leaned closer, his voice dropping.
“I don’t use memories, Raven. I live with them. Every day.” His gaze held hers for a moment longer, and then he turned back to the road.
The air between them thickened—anger, grief, desire all tangled into something volatile. Raven hated that her heart was pounding not just from fury but from how near he was, how his voice brushed against her skin like heat.
Inside the mansion, she stalked past him, unwilling to let him see the effect he had on her. She needed distance, needed to think, but Elijah didn’t give her space. He followed, his footsteps were deliberate, his presence a constant shadow.
“You want answers?” he asked, voice low, controlled. “Then stop running from the questions that scare you.”
Raven spun on him, fists clenched. “You’re hiding things. You always have been. You talk about Zara like you knew her better than I did. You have chambers full of surveillance photos. You were part of the Crimson Verse. And you think I’m the one running?”
For once, Elijah didn’t snap back. He just studied her, his expression unreadable but his eyes… his eyes burned.
“You’re right,” he said finally, his voice softer. “I am hiding things. Because the truth, Raven…” He stepped closer, until his breath brushed her cheek. “The truth would ruin you.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She should push him away. She should demand answers, force him to unravel every secret, but instead, she found herself leaning in, her body betraying her.
“Elijah…” Her whisper cracked, both warning and pleading.
And then his mouth was on hers.
It wasn’t gentle. It was raw, consuming, years of silence and pain and obsession colliding in a single desperate act. Raven’s back hit the wall, his hands braced beside her head, caging her in. She tasted fury and hunger, the need for control crashing against the need to surrender.
For a heartbeat, she let herself drown in it. His kiss was everything she’d sworn to resist—danger, fire, inevitability. Yet it felt like oxygen.
When she finally broke away, gasping, her forehead rested against his. “This is wrong,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He smiled faintly, breath ragged. “Wrong has never felt this right.”
Her knees weakened, her pulse racing, but she shoved him back, putting distance between them. “I can’t—Elijah, I can’t let this happen again.”
“Then don’t fight me,” he countered, his tone sharper now, frustration bleeding through. “You want the truth? Fine. But you won’t survive it alone. And you know it.”
Raven shook her head, forcing air into her lungs. “I don’t trust you.”
His smirk returned, dark and knowing. “And yet, you kissed me back.”
The words lodged in her chest, sharp and unforgiving. Because he was right. No matter how much she did not trust him, no matter how dangerous he was, her body betrayed her every time.
Silence settled, thick and heavy. The tension shifted, not gone, but simmering, dangerous, waiting for the next spark. Raven turned away, desperate to regain control, but Elijah caught her wrist gently, his touch firm yet careful.
“You’re not alone in this,” he said, voice lower, almost tender. “Even if you don’t want me, even if you hate me, you’ll need me and I’ll be there.”
Raven froze, her throat tight. The sincerity in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely showed—it twisted something inside her she wasn’t ready to name.
She yanked her wrist free, needing the space to breathe. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
But she didn’t leave. She couldn’t.
Elijah studied her a moment longer, then nodded, as if understanding the war waging inside her. He didn’t press further. Instead, he turned toward his study, his voice trailing behind him. “Rest, Raven, tomorrow we plan the hunt.”
When he disappeared into the shadows, Raven pressed her back to the wall, her hands trembling. She had faced six sins and survived. But none of them terrified her as much as this, the way Elijah Cross made her want what she should never touch.
Outside, the city gleamed unaware of the battle raging within its walls. Cassian was still out there, plotting, preparing, watching. But tonight, Raven’s war was closer, sharper, more dangerous.
Because it wasn’t just Cassian she had to resist.
She had to resist Elijah also.