Page 110 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

He stumbled back, pressing his spine against the cold stone wall. Relief washed through him in a shaky wave as he sucked in a breath. Everywhere the vine had touched felt like molten blades embedded beneath his skin. His throat pulsed with raw, blistering agony.

He had never felt anything like it.

Briar screamed, hurling vine after vine at his shield. Each impact rattled the air, her fury vibrating through the chamber. Rain narrowed his eyes, unable to hide the resentment in his glare; not at her, but at the cruelty that had shaped her into this.

Behind her, Ember sobbed; a tiny, terrified sound. The toddler pressed herself into Briar’s legs, trembling violently. Her fear hit Rain like a punch to the chest. She was terrified of him, the strange male who had entered their sanctuary and survived Briar’s flames.

They had never met anyone who could withstand Briar.

To Ember, Briar was invincible.

Unstoppable.

Her whole world.

Until now.

Rain forced himself to breathe through the pain, letting it ebb enough for him to think clearly. His empathic senses sharpened, tuning into the storm of emotions swirling in the room.

Briar’s aura was a wildfire of rage, fear, protectiveness, trauma, all tangled into a single burning knot.

Ember’s was a trembling candle; flickering, fragile, desperate for safety.

Rain’s own energy pulsed erratically, still recovering from the assault.

He straightened slowly, keeping his shield firm and his voice low and steady. The pain finally began to subside enough for him to breathe without effort.

“Briar, I am not here to hurt you or your sister.”

She snarled at the sound of his voice — a feral, guttural sound that vibrated through the chamber. Her energy flared in a violent spike of distrust, defiance, and raw fear. Rain felt every jagged edge of it scrape against his own aura.

“My name is Rain. I am a prince. I’ve come to help you and your sisters.”

Hatred flickered in her dark, hardened eyes; hatred born of abandonment, pain, and a lifetime of being forced to protect the only person she had left.

Rain exhaled slowly.

He was not equipped for this.

Negotiating with traumatised children was not a skill he possessed.

He finally took in the room properly.

It was… squalor.

Neglected.

Bare.

Filthy.

The smell of excrement clung to the air, thick and sour. The stone walls were stained with soot and grime. The only semblance of comfortwas a makeshift fort crafted from sheets draped over chairs, forming a tiny sanctuary. Inside, he saw pillows, a few battered toys, and a nest of blankets. Their safe space. Their entire world.

His stomach twisted.

His chest tightened.

His empathy surged painfully.