Page 152 of Daughter of the Serpent

And now Haldor -

Her knees buckled.

The stone beneath her was cold, biting, but the ache in her chest was worse.

She couldn’t bear it.

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her back to her feet.

Axel.

She pressed back against him, feeling the solid wall of his chest, the rise and fall of his breath.

He was the only constant.

The only one who seemed to stay.

A choked sob escaped her as she turned, burying herself in him, her fingers clutching desperately at his leathers. He didn’t speak, didn’t try to soothe her with empty words. He just held her. Kept her upright when she felt like she might crumble again completely. When the tears finally slowed, when there was nothing left to give, she slumped against him, exhausted.

His fingers brushed through her hair, tucking damp strands behind her ear, and she drew back just enough to look at him.

His face was unreadable, but his eyes - gods, his eyes. Steady. Fierce. Something that didn’t waver even as she felt herself breaking apart.

“Why?” Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Why does it have to be this way?”

Axel exhaled slowly.

“Why does it feel like every time I step more fully into myself, I step further from those I love?”

His fingers brushed a path along her cheek, wiping away a lingering tear with an aching softness.

“Sometimes choosing yourself will break your heart,” he murmured, his voice quiet as his thumb lingered for a breath longer, as if sealing his words into her skin. “But I promise you, Sylvie,” his voice dropped, steady as stone, “one day, it will be whole again.”

A shuddering breath left her as she gripped him tighter, holding onto him like he was the last tether keeping her from being swept away.

His lips pressed to the crown of her head, a lingering touch, barely more than a whisper.

“You deserve people who will love you, Sylvie. All of you.”

She shut her eyes against the fresh sting of tears. “I just… I wish I could make him understand.”

Axel cupped the side of her face, his touch warm against the cool breeze. “You did the right thing.”

“Then why does this all feel so wrong?”

His fingers flexed slightly against her skin, before returning his hand to his side. “Because you’ve only ever known how to bend,” His voice was quiet but firm. “To sacrifice.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “That is why, when you finally choose yourself, it feels foreign. Strange. Wrong.” His eyes met hers. “But you are not wrong, Sylvie.”

The wind howled between them, tangling through her hair, pulling at the loose strands like unseen fingers.

Sylvie swallowed hard, her throat tight, burning.

She knew deep in her bones that she had made the right choice. She had to believe that. But the guilt, the disappointment, the agony in Haldor’s eyes - they clawed at her, dragged her down, made her second - guess herself. Her heart - her traitorous, aching heart - wanted to give in. To betray herself again. To choose the familiar pain of losing herself over the unbearable pain of losing him.

She hated that she still wavered.

Hated that she wasn’t stronger.

But all she had ever known was how to shrink.