That was the most dangerous thing about him.
Without turning, his voice echoed through the dim chamber. “Food’s in the next room. Don’t waste time trying to escape. Hell bends to me—and I won’t hesitate to restrain you if I must.”
My thoughts scattered—to my father, to my siblings, to the slow unraveling of the worlds we’d fought so hard to protect. A tide of shame rose in my chest. I was a prisoner. And yet…
Yet, something about him unsettled more than just my mind.
I clenched my jaw and pulled the shame from my shoulders like an old coat. I was more than a Reaper’s daughter. I was more than someone’s sister or soldier.
I was also a woman. And that meant I could see him for what he was—both beast and man—and still fight against him. Still resist him.
Still win.
This wasn’t the end for me. It couldn’t be.
If I stayed here, if I let him cage me with fear, or confusion, or twisted chemistry—I’d never be free. Not truly.
I turned toward the room where he said food waited, but I made a silent promise to myself: I would escape. I would return to my family. And together, we’d fight to save the human world and stop the fading.
Because no matter how deep into Hell he dragged me, I refused to belong to it. Or to him.
Chapter Thirteen
Sebastian
Standing outside the infirmary, I leaned against the stone wall and flexed my fingers. My hand stopped fading once our powers returned, but I still remembered the way my cloak had loosened near the wrist when it began to turn translucent.
Strange—how all five fingers had still been there. I’d wiggled each one, rolled my wrist, even felt every sense that the hand was still intact. But I couldn’t grasp anything.
I wondered if that was what amputees felt—phantom limbs, ghost sensations in places that no longer existed.
When would it happen? When our powers disappeared again? Or would it start beforehand, like earlier? The memory of Isabella’s terrified expression twisted in my chest.
The realization that I was next—that I was fading, just like my father had—settled into me with a quiet clarity I didn’t want to acknowledge.
We were out of time.
Out of time with Isabella.
How I longed to be back on that beach with her. Even if just for a moment. I’d give anything to hear her laugh again, to feel the sun warming our skin.
But the world was dying.
The oceans were likely in ruin. The beach where I’d taken her—our place—was probably gone. And just like my fading hand, that future slipped through my fingers.
I never ran out of hope. But lately, I’ve been brimming with fear.
Shit.
We had no idea what Kitty was going through. Her essence still felt strong—but that didn’t mean she was safe.
I didn’t notice Isabella until her small hand slid up my neck, resting softly against my cheek. Instinctively, I leaned into her touch, dipping my head to meet her reach. I hadn’t felt my curse in so long—her energy overwhelmed it completely. I’d touched her so much, so often, the curse had just…stopped working.
Even so, my little lightning bolt still refused to let me touch her when I was mortal. She was terrified that her darkness might kill me. I knew better.
Curse or not, she was mine.
That darkness inside her—it was hers. And she knew that now. But old fears didn’t vanish easily.
