Then he stepped back. Said something else, tone final. Dismissive.
The door slammed shut.
Darkness swallowed the room again. The echo of metal on metal rang in my ears, faded slowly into oppressive quiet.
I was alone.
My chest heaved. The walls pressed in from all sides, the ceiling too low, the floor too hard. Everything wrong, everything unfamiliar, everything designed to contain something they considered dangerous.
The bond pulled tight in my chest, aching with distance and uncertainty. She was out there somewhere. Close enough that I could feel the connection, too far for me to reach her.
What were they telling her? What lies were they feeding her about me, about us, about what we'd shared?
I'd finally convinced her to accept the bond. Finally broken through her walls, earned her trust, claimed her properly. And now these humans were going to poison that, turn her against me, make her believe I was exactly what they thought.
A monster who'd stolen her.
I couldn't let that happen. Couldn't let them take her from me when I'd only just found her.
I had to get out of here. Had to find her, talk to her, make her understand that I would never hurt her. That everything I'd done, everything I'd offered, came from a place of devotion so deep it terrified me.
I threw myself at the door. My shoulder connected with brutal force, sent pain radiating down my arm. The metal shuddered but held.
Again. And again. Each impact jarred my injuries, made my vision blur. Blood from my wrists smeared across the surface, left dark streaks that disappeared into shadow.
The door didn't break.
I slammed into it one more time. Put everything I had into the collision, every ounce of strength and desperation and rage.
Nothing.
I staggered back. My legs gave out, dropped me to my knees. The restraints bit deeper, my wrists slick with blood. My wings throbbed, my head pounded, my whole body screamed for rest I couldn't afford to take.
She was out there. Somewhere beyond this door, beyond these walls.
I couldn't reach her. Couldn't protect her. Couldn't even tell her I was here, that I hadn't left, that I would never leave.
The helplessness was worse than any injury. Worse than being captured, worse than the pain, worse than the uncertainty.
I'd failed her.
Failed to stay alert, failed to protect us both, failed to prevent this separation. And now she was alone.
I pressed my forehead against the door. The metal was warm, almost hot. Like everything on this cursed planet.
"Lexa." Her name was a prayer, a plea, a promise.
I pulled back. Gathered what strength I had left. Braced myself against the far wall.
Then I launched forward. I hit the door with everything, my whole body behind the impact. My shoulder, my wings, my desperation.
The metal rang like a bell. The sound echoed, bounced off walls, filled the tiny space with noise.
I didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Hit it again, and again, each collision sending fresh pain through my battered body.
"Lexa!"
16
