Page 54 of Claimed In Darkness

54

NAIRA

I have to leave. Now.

Before Zephiran realizes what I’m about to do. I can’t let him stop me.

If I stay—he will have to make a choice.

It will break him, and I won’t let it happen.

So I move. Fast.

Silent.

Like a ghost slipping into the dark.

My body is weak.

My vision flickers.

Every step feels like it takes more from me than it should.

The relic has already started its work.

It’s in my blood, in my bones, in the marrow of my soul.

It’s unraveling me, piece by piece, consuming the last of what I have to give.

And he will fight for me. He’s a man that keeps his promise.

He still thinks he can save me.

But it’s not without consequence. Not without destroying himself in the process.

And I can’t let him do that.

The wind is cold as I step onto the balcony, the city stretching out beneath me.

I hear the battle raging in the distance.

I can hear the sounds of metal meeting flesh, of bodies hitting the ground, of the world resembling an inferno around us.

This war is almost over.

But not for me.

I am not letting Zephiran be the one to end this. If I stay, he will make the wrong choice.

He will choose me.

Over himself.

Over his revenge.

Over the war he’s been fighting his entire life.

I can’t let him do that.

Not for me. Not when I’m already lost.

So I take a step forward.

Suddenly, the shadows move.

A cold voice curls through the night, interrupting me.

Low. Smooth. Too fucking familiar.

"Leaving so soon, little fox?"

My blood runs cold. I don’t need to turn to see who the latest arrival is.

I know exactly who it is.

Lord Zeran Zacria. Zephiran father.

The man who has been pulling the strings from the beginning.

The man who created the curse.

The man who always knew this would happen.

This was his plan all along, and now, he’s come to collect.

Slowly, I turn to face him.

His eyes glint like sharpened steel in the dark.

His mouth is curved into something that almost looks like amusement as if this is all just a game to him.

As if he hasn’t already ruined everything.

"I should have known you’d come crawling back to him," he muses.

My fingers twitch toward my dagger.

"I didn’t crawl anywhere,” I reply, trying to push the darkness inside me to gain some semblance of control.

His chuckle is soft, patronizing.

"No? You ran to him like a good little pet. You kissed him. You let him touch you. And now, you think you can run away again?"

My stomach tightens.

He has been watching.

I have played into his hands without even realizing it.

"You don’t care about me," I say.

He tilts his head.

"No. But I care about my son. And you, little human, are his greatest weakness."

My breath catches.

He’s here to destroy what’s left of me. Not for me.

For Zephiran.

To make him watch.

To break him.

This man lives to make his son suffer, and I can’t have him do that.

He moves fast.

Faster than I expected.

Faster than my body can react.

Cold steel slashes across my stomach.

My knees buckle and pain erupts through me, sharp and deep and fucking unbearable.

I choke on a gasp.

I stumble. I fall.

Blood spills across the stone, warm and wet and so fucking wrong.

I try to push myself up—but I can’t.

This wound isn’t meant to kill me quickly. It’s meant to make me suffer.

It’s meant to make me bleed out slow.

He wants to make me scream.

Zeran doesn’t just want me dead.

He wants Zephiran to find me like this.

To watch me die in his arms.

To shatter him completely.

As the world tilts, as my vision blurs, as the blood pools beneath me—there’s only one thing I think about.

This was never about me.

Zephiran, my love, has always been the target.

I have to hope to the gods that he doesn’t see me like this.

That, if he comes, he’ll see me just sleeping peacefully.