"You broke free of a binding ritual that should have killed you."
"By accident."
"You learned control in a few weeks when most Veil-touched train for years." He stepped closer. "You danced under Veil-light and chose joy even when you had every reason to choose despair. That's not weakness, Seris. That's strength I don't possess."
"Then you're blind." The words came out strangled. "Because all I see when I look at myself is a coward who ran while people died."
"You were evacuated by someone who loved you."
"I should have fought."
"You would have died."
"Maybe I should have!" The shout ripped from somewhere deep and raw. "Maybe that would've been better than living."
His hand closed around the back of my neck, and he pulled me against his chest. I tried to fight, to push away, but he held me with careful force.
"Breathe," he ordered quietly.
"Let go!"
"Breathe."
I couldn't. My lungs locked. The world tilted sideways, and I realized I was shaking, trembling so hard my teeth chattered.
"In through your nose." His voice rumbled against my ear. "Hold. Out through your mouth."
I tried. Failed. Tried again.
Slowly, painfully, my breathing steadied.
Daemon didn't release me. He just held me there in the dark while I fell apart in increments too small to measure.
"I don't know how to do this," I whispered eventually.
"Do what?"
"Keep going. Keep fighting. Keep believing any of it matters."
"Then don't." His hand moved to my hair, fingers threading through tangled strands. "Don't believe. Don't hope. Just survive one more day. And then one more after that. Eventually belief comes back. Or it doesn't. Either way, you're still alive."
"That's pointless."
"That's honest." He pulled back enough to meet my eyes. "I've lived most of my life without hope, Seris. It's possible. Not pleasant, but possible."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him that wasn't living, just existing. But what did I know? I'd spent years as a slave, months in a cell, weeks in a false paradise, and now stood in darkness with nothing but ash behind me.
Maybe existing was all anyone could manage.
Footsteps echoed down the tunnel.
Daemon's hand dropped from my neck. He spun, shadows coalescing into blades as he positioned himself between me and the sound.
Kael and Kane moved to flank him. Zephyr pushed off the wall, swaying but ready.
The footsteps grew louder. Multiple sets. Moving with purpose and precision.
Armed figures emerged from the darkness.
