A gust of wind blows toward me, causing the chain to sway, and I bite the inside of my cheek with brutal force. “You’re awake,” Callum’s voice rings through the room. As he comes closer, I note the scar starting below his ear and running down the length of his jawline.
I know that didn’t come from me. Although, I wish it had.
“You look rough,” I spit, throat gravelly from the side effects of whatever he injected me with.
“Says the one chained to the ceiling.” He—unfortunately—has a point. “I can give you one to match. Seems only fitting since you’re the reason I got it in the first place.” That piques my interest.
“You and I both know it won’t stick.”
“But it sure would be fun trying.”
“Why don’t you let me out of these, and we’ll see who comes out with the most scars.” I shake the chains for emphasis, ignoring the pain as I do.
“But why do that when I can do whatever I wish to you like this?”
“Because that’s a coward’s fight, and you know it.” He stares at me curiously, racing his eyes up and down my defenseless form.
There’s a hole in my chest. One that can only be filled by Voraxis’s reassurance, his comforting notes that he’s coming. It won’t come. But that hole sinks further, dropping to my stomach at the thought that I’ll never hear it again.
Now, there are no tears to hold back. All the sadness is replacedwith hatred, anger, and resentment. “How sweet that you gave me a private room this time.”
“New protocol. You’re a flight risk.”
“So putting me in solitary was your way of ensuring I wouldn’t get out? Seems to me you have little faith in yourself.”
“Faith has nothing to do with it.” Faith has nothing to do with a lot of things these days. With faith comes hope, and I fear that’s something I’ll never have again.
“Callum. Iknowyou’re in there. Somewhere deep down, you don’t want to do this.” I try to appeal to the other side of him, plead with the side that watched me escape the first time.
“The Callum you knew is gone. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“He’s in there,” I insist, not wanting to believe that after everything, he’s really truly gone. Callum chuckles menacingly, looking down for a moment like I’m being hysterical.
“I take back what I said before,” I start, which in turn pulls his attention back to me. “You are a monster.”
He saunters over to me, taking his sweet time closing the distance that separates us. Callum leans in close, whispering in my ear, “The worst of them all.” His breath is warm, hitting the shell of my ear, creating a direct contrast to the cold bite of the blade he’s holding against my throat.
“It’s funny if you think I’m afraid of death,” I state, leaning slightly into the knife. “Joke’s on you. Death would be a gift—a mercy. But tell me, Callum, could you live with yourself? If you were the one to finally put me out of my misery?”
He pulls his head back sharply, and I watch the old him flicker to the surface before being smothered again. “It would be an honor.”
He’s in there. I don’t know how to get him back, but at least there’s still a chance.
“Slit my throat, Callum. Fucking do it! If all of this meantnothing, if this was the plan all along, then make me bleed, flood the floor with crimson, and let my blood stain your hands.” I push into the sharp edge, the bite of pain nearly dull—nonexistent—as I stare into his eyes while the soft trickle cascades down the column of my throat.
Silently, my fingers grapple against the chain, shoulders screaming with the smallest movement. My magic might not be of use right now, but my strength is returning—kicked up from all the adrenaline and whatnot. Callum’s eyes ping-pong between mine, fighting with the other part of himself, too distracted to notice.
“You’re so dense. Too dumb to realize that you’re also just another pawn in the game.” If appealing to his normal side won’t work, I guess I’ll try appealing to his anger. We always did communicate best when we were fighting. In an instant, my fingers wrap around the chain with an iron grip. Hauling myself up, I ignore the wail of insanity my shoulders send out, breathing heavily as I hit my mark. I catch him off guard, and the force of my legs upswinging knocks the blade from his hand, and it blissfully clatters to the ground. I keep the momentum going, wrapping my legs around his neck and locking my ankles. My thighs squeeze tight, cutting off his oxygen the old-fashioned way.
The new position is a relief, causing the pressure in my shoulders to subside, turning into a dull, manageable throb.
“If relief was what you wanted, all you had to do was ask,” Callum chimes, sultry and seductive, which may only feel that way because his words are directed at my center.
I loathe the way my body betrays me, hate the effect he still has on me despite everything that’s happened. He chuckles against me, and I unfortunately didn’t think very far ahead. There’s only so much I can do from this position.
And I fear I’ve reached that limit. “Callum, listen to me.” Hisshadows lash out, wrapping around each of my legs to pull me apart. “Do you remember the first day?” He doesn’t reply, slowly separating my legs from his neck. “I was standing alone in the gym, waiting for someone to spar with me. I’d almost given up because, truth be told, I was embarrassed,” I admit, pressing with all my strength to keep him in my clutches. “I can still hear your voice clear as day.”
“Didn’t think you’d give up that easily,” he continues for me, his grip loosening.
