Page 36 of Claimed In Darkness

36

ZEPHIRAN

I should be relieved that I’m alive.

That she saved me.

That I am still standing, still breathing, still fucking existing despite the odds.

But all I can think about is her.

And the thing inside her that is not her anymore.

The last body still twitches at our feet, the air is overflowing with the scent of blood and burned flesh, metal and sweat.

Naira stands just beyond the carnage, her dagger dripping, her breathing steady.

Too steady for my liking.

As if the blood staining her hands means nothing.

As if she hasn’t just torn through trained warriors like they were nothing but insects.

She is unmarked.

Not a scratch.

Not even a bruise.

That is the first thing that makes my insides twist.

This wasn’t luck and not skill.

This was something else.

Something inhuman. Magic that no humans should ever wield. A power that’s meant to destroy.

And I should have fucking seen it sooner.

She exhales, slow, measured, before tilting her head toward me.

I do not like the way she looks at me.

Her gaze is not the same.

Her eyes are still the same shade, still the same deep, dark pools that I have memorized in every light.

But something inside them has shifted.

I do not recognize it.

Something dangerous and starving.

And, now, I am looking at the woman I once wanted to own?—

Or something that is wearing her skin.

Her fingers lift to her face, smearing blood across her cheek before she wipes it clean against her sleeve.

She does not shake.

She just stands there, calm, collected, as if none of this matters.

As if she is not even trying to hide what she is becoming.

As if she already knows.

When she speaks—her voice is too quiet, too knowing, too goddamn sure.

"You’re staring."

Words elude, and I can’t formulate the words to explain what I’m feeling. Fearing.

I do not trust what will come out of my mouth if I do.

I take a step toward her and she stays.

Does not shift like she once would have, like she once did every time I got too close.

Now, she is the one in control.

I could grab her.

Could shake her, drag her back, force her to tell me what the fuck is happening inside her.

But something in my chest—something cold, something primal—tells me that if I do, she might kill me.

She might not even hesitate.

A slow, sharp breath scrapes through my throat, my hands clenching at my sides, my pulse beating too slow, too heavy.

"What did you do?"

The words leave me like a fucking curse.

Her head tilts just slightly.

A small shift.

A predator considering its prey.

"I saved you."

A simple answer.

A cold one.

A lie.

This was not about me.

Never. This was about her.

What she had to become to do it.

I wonder if I have made something that even I cannot control.

I can feel it now.

I don’t know if I was too blind to notice before, or if she was just better at hiding it.

But the power in her—it is not hers.

It pulses beneath her skin, moves in the way she stands too still, breathes too quietly, does not blink enough.

The relic is in her bones.

Feeding.

Changing.

Taking.

And she does not fucking care.

I reach for her wrist instinctively.

She lets me but that makes it worse.

She lets me touch her, lets my fingers slide over the thin skin of her pulse, lets me search for something, anything, that proves she is still the same.

But she is too cold.

Too composed.

Her pulse beats, but it is slow.

Like a thing that no longer belongs to this world.

I exhale, rough, dragging my thumb over the thin line of her wrist, letting it sink in, the reality, the truth.

"You can’t ignore this," I murmur.

A whisper.

A demand.

A fucking plea.

Her lashes lower just slightly, a slow blink, the only sign that she even feels this.

And then she does something I do not expect.

Something that shouldn’t fucking shake me, but does.

She smiles.

Small. Soft.

A mockery of what it once was.

"I’m not the one ignoring it, Zephiran."

That fucking truth—hits harder than a blade.

She is right.

I do not want to admit and face what I have done.

I want to believe that I can still pull her back, still fix this, still keep her as mine.

But the horrible truth is she is not mine anymore.

She is something else.

And I am so afraid that I will never get her back.