Page 117 of Monsters Carve Thrones

A breeze drifted in from the garden, and for a moment, it felt like time stopped. Eventually, Rafe walked Laura to the front door to ensure she made it safely to her car, and I stayedbehind. I stepped outside onto the patio and tilted my face toward the sun, the condensation from the glass cooling my palm. It was nice remembering what it felt like to live.

When Rafe returned, I had nearly drained the entire glass of water. I didn’t know why I felt so depleted lately, like my body was still rebuilding from the inside out. The muscle I’d spent months training with Rafe had softened. My core strength was nothing compared to what it once was. Even small stretches left me trembling.

It was humiliating. And I hated that I cared so much.

He smiled as he approached, a glass of water in hand. I watched the way his eyes flicked to mine before lifting to the trees above us, observing the soft green branches swaying in the summer breeze.

He came to stand beside me, quiet and still. Just the way he always had when I needed grounding. He was my husband, my protector, and my safe space.

I hesitated to speak of what Laura and I had discussed. My tongue suddenly felt thick. I could’ve let it go, and maybe I should have.

But I couldn’t.

“Rafe,” I said softly. “Can I ask you something?”

His head tilted just slightly toward me, still not looking away from the trees. “Of course.”

I swallowed, feeling my fingers tighten around the sweating glass. “Laura mentioned that when you were looking for me... you used drugs.”

He stilled. Not all at once, but a slow shift. His breath seemed to pause, and his shoulders tensed.

“She said you were using a lot. That you were... spiraling.”

His jaw tightened. The line of it was sharp enough to cut steel. He didn’t speak. But still, I couldn’t control myself. I kept going.

“And that you were all forced to watch a video,” I added, my voice barely above a whisper. “Of me.”

That broke him.

His fingers clamped around the glass in his hand so hard I thought it might shatter. His knuckles whitened. The silence between us was so goddamn heavy.

I reached for his arm. “Come inside with me.”

He didn’t answer, but he followed. The couch felt colder than usual. Maybe it was the shift in the air or the war I felt inside him now that we’d stepped out of the safety of the trees and into the quiet walls of truth. He was never entirely good at deep, intimate, and emotional confrontation. He was someone who tried to avoid it at all costs. But then again, he never believed he was capable of love, so he’d learned a lot about himself being with me.

He sat beside me, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, staring at the floor like it might offer him a script or something. “I didn’t want to tell you yet,” he said eventually, his voice low and rough. “Not until you were okay.”

“I’m okay now,” I said. And I meant it.

He let out a breath, more like a hiss. His hands shook faintly as he ran them down his face. “I wasn’t using because I wanted to,” he murmured. “It wasn’t a relapse. Not in the way it looks. I’d used many drugs before and only recently stopped taking them shortly before meeting you.”

I stayed quiet.

“I started taking something when I couldn’t sleep. Nico noticed. Then I took more when I couldn’t eat. Then, I needed it just to get out of bed. And when we were taken…” he trailedoff, his voice wavering like he might cry. “And I experienced the withdrawals... and then when she showed me that clip–”

He choked.

I reached for him. My fingers brushed his thigh, and he flinched.

“I saw what he did to you,” he said, trembling now. “She made me fuckingwatch, Adela. You were crying, and I–” He stopped. “I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was going to die before I ever found you.”

I pressed closer, my heart shattering piece by piece. “You didn’t.”

“I wanted to,” he whispered. “I swear to God, I wanted to.”

I took his hand. He looked at me then, eyes red-rimmed, lashes wet. “You found me,” I said, voice breaking. “Youlivedfor me.”

His throat bobbed, and he nodded. It was one small, desperate motion. And finally, he let the silence fall, leaning into me as I wrapped my arms around his trembling body. He was so strong. Always had been. But that strength had cost him everything.