Page 40

Chapter 39

Selestina

I ’m wrapped in warmth, the scent of herbs and smoke surrounding me, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.

I blink, trying to piece together where I am, letting the memories unfurl. Nasarea's face, her furious gaze, and then the soft, unexpected touch of her hands as she dragged me from the brink of darkness.

The room swims into focus, dim and quiet.

The light of a small fire sends shadows dancing along the walls. Nasarea sits beside me, her face unreadable, her hands steady as she cleans my wounds, her touch is gentle as she works, which contrasts with the feral look in her eyes earlier.

She knows it all now. All of it—the blood, the missions, the unforgivable things I’ve done under the guise of the Shadow Reaper.

There are no walls left, no hidden truths.

I shift slightly, wincing as pain flares through my side, and she glances at me, her expression softening just a fraction. “You’re awake,” she murmurs, her voice low, careful, as if afraid to shatter the fragile calm that has settled over us.

“Barely.” I grit out, my voice hoarse, a mere whisper, as if someone has dragged it over bits of broken glass. My throat is tight, my mouth dry, and I attempt to raise myself up, but she lays a cool hand on my shoulder and presses me back.

I let myself sink back into the bed. The exhaustion clawing at me, making it hard to resist. My gaze drops to her hands as she binds the wounds on my arms with ease; each touch is carefully made. There's no anger in her eyes anymore, just a quiet intensity that makes my chest ache in a way I don't quite know how to explain.

For a long time, neither of us says anything, the silence stretching between us, filled with all that has been left unsaid. I close my eyes then, wondering if I have made a mistake, if revealing who I am will only bring more pain. But deep down, I know I had little choice. It was this or die in the cold, alone, with my secrets buried with me. For the first time, I didn't want that. I wanted someone to know, someone to understand.

“How long?” Nasarea's voice cuts through my thoughts, soft but laced with something I can't quite place. Her hands still, resting gently on my arm as she looks at me, her gaze unwavering. “How long have you been…” She gestures with her hand in an up and down motion towards me.

I hesitate, the weight of the truth heavy, but there's no point in hiding anymore. She's seen the truth. “Since I started having a memory,” I confess in barely more than a whisper. “I've been killing since I was old enough to hold a blade. Honestly, since I've had my first memory, I have been the property of Alexander Joaquin de la Cruz.”

Her face doesn't change, but in her eyes, there's a glimpse of…something. Sadness, maybe, or understanding. She starts working again, and her hands move with a silent grace. I feel a welling wonder of relief, as if the confession has taken some burden off me that I wasn't even aware I was carrying.

“Did you ever… did you ever want to stop?” she asks, her voice timid.

I swallow. “I never wanted to start, Nasarea,” I say, my gaze dropping to the floor. “This life was chosen for me before I could understand what it meant. Every mission, every death… it's what Alexander expects of me.”

She nods, a silent understanding falling like a veil over her features and I suddenly know she, too, has been sculpted by forces beyond her control, pressed into the mold of a life unwanted. Once again, I see the pain reflected in her eyes that mirror my own, a shared understanding.

“I know you didn't kill my mother, Selestina,” she says in a low tone. Her expression is a reflection of her words, a sadness mixed with a resolution dancing in her eyes.

A sad smile tugs at my lips, hesitant, as if it might shatter under the weight of her gaze. Relief consumes me.

In her eyes, I find a truth that I've been desperate to believe一that I am not beyond redemption, that maybe there is something more to me than the blood on my hands.

Her hands move to my side, gently tending to the wound there. I bite back a wince, the pain radiating throughout my body. She looks up, her eyes searching mine. “Your secret is safe with me,” she says quietly, her voice steady. “Whatever you've done, whatever you are… I won't betray you.”

A lump forms in my throat, the relief almost overwhelming. “Thank you,” I whisper. I try to keep my mask in place, but I know I can’t hide my relief .

She nods softly. The fire crackles beside us.

We sit in silence, the fire dancing across the walls with gentle shadows, and for one brief moment, I let myself believe there can be a future beyond Alexander, a life where I am more than the Shadow Reaper.