Page 15 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

And Rain understood, with sickening clarity, that nothing about this night could ever be undone.

Eventually, Rain forced himself to move. His legs felt like stone, his body hollowed out, but he pushed forward, step by step, through the grotesqueaftermath of his massacre. The journey home blurred into a haze. He walked through the devastation without flinching, numb to the bloody carnage around him. His mind was too empty, too shattered to fully register the horror. He didn’t look away. He didn’t allow himself the mercy of denial. He simply moved, as though carried by momentum alone.

Blue forces waited at the border.

They did not approach.

They stood in rigid formation, watching him from a distance, their expressions a mixture of fear, awe, and something far more painful—resignation. They knew what had happened. They could feel it in the air, in the tremor of Rain’s energy, in the silence that clung to him like a shroud. None dared step closer. They understood the dangerous edge he walked, the volatile state he was in. One wrong word, one wrong breath, could shatter what little control he had left.

Rain didn’t blame them.

He wouldn’t have approached himself.

Their eyes followed him as he crossed the threshold into Blue territory, each soldier silently acknowledging the devastation their prince had wrought. Another tragedy. Another catastrophe. Another entry in the long, damning list of disasters tied to his name.

Rain knew his actions would not go unpunished. His father would demand answers. There would be consequences: political, personal, brutal. But Rain found himself incapable of caring. The emotional void inside him left no room for fear, regret, or justification. He felt nothing. Nothing but the echo of the lives that had flickered out around him.

To the Blue troops, this was simply who he was.

The harbinger of death.

The cursed heir.

The weapon they could not control.

Despite his intentions, despite the fact that he had never wanted any of this, Rain knew the truth: he would be remembered not for the peace he begged for, but for the destruction that followed him.

A legacy inherited.

A fate he could not outrun.

A burden he would carry alone.

Chapter 5

Hot steam from the shower clung to the air, the only sound was the cascade of water splashing against skin and tile. Slumped beneath the scalding spray, Rain had hoped the heat would cleanse him of guilt, but the stains on his soul felt permanent.

He had curled in on himself, forehead pressed to the dark tile that adorned the walk-in shower of his en-suite, letting the water offer what comfort it could.There is a magic to running water, Elder Isarion had once preached. It helps to cleanse and release energy. He had prescribed long showers or a good soak in the tub as part of Rain’s “come down” regimen. Whether it worked remained uncertain, but following routine at least gave Rain direction.

He stared blindly ahead, expression dazed and distant, as the horrific events of the night replayed relentlessly. His mind was trapped in a torrent of torment, the weight of those final moments pressing heavily on his chest. He had spent hours sitting here, wrapped in sorrow, entombed in grief and self-loathing, and still the running water offered little relief.

A tiny, twisted part of him found bitter solace in the suffering. He welcomed the punishment—felt he deserved far worse. To feel the deaths of the lives he stole; to relive every excruciating detail… it felt like poetic justice. He accepted his karma. It should have been him who died. One sorrow-filled life in place of hundreds of innocents. But he realised he wasn’t worthy of such mercy. He deserved the soul-destroying descent into madness. He imagined the souls of the dead rejoicing as they witnessed his defeat, as they watched his heart implode. He hoped they felt avenged by his excruciating existence. As morbid as it was, those thoughts kept him going.

A presence appeared beside him, followed by a shift in water pressure before the shower shut off completely. The action reluctantly pulled Rain back into the present. He wasn’t fazed by the intrusion, but curiosity tugged at him—who would dare disrupt his misery?

Twisting his gaze toward the intruder, a familiar figure came into view. One who would normally elicit irritation, but today he felt nothing. Through the thick cloud of steam, Ivy crouched beside him, reaching out a delicate hand, her eyes full of soft understanding. Her fingers traced over his bare chest, gently cupping his neck as her thumb grazed his Adam’s apple, tilting his jaw toward her so his gaze met her beautiful siren eyes.

“Come with me, baby. Let me take care of you” Ivy cooed melodically, her gaze uncharacteristically sympathetic.

Too numb to decline, he dipped his chin and did as she asked, unfurling himself from the floor and stepping out of the shower in full naked glory. Ivy grabbed a towel from the cabinet and began to pat him dry, working gently as she admired the view, paying extra attention to her favourite parts of him. He stood forlorn, zoning out as she dried him, barely registering when the towel eventually draped across his broad shoulders.

Undeterred, Ivy entwined herself around him, her hands roaming over his torso, fingers digging into flesh as she nuzzled into his neck. Her lips brushed softly against his jugular as she slowly released her power into the contours of his back. Tendrils of arousal tugged at him, pulling his attention toward her. It was subtle and inviting; she was being gentle with him—conscious of what he needed: distraction, escapism, something to fill the void carved into his chest.

Rain’s muscles relaxed as arousal coursed through his veins, a long, breathy sigh escaping his lips as Ivy amped up her power, guided by his body language. His focus diverted to all things Ivy. He curled into her, hands smoothing over her curves as he nuzzled into her deep espresso curls. He breathed her in, inhaling the familiar floral scent of her hair, the allure pulling him further into her grasp. His lips mapped from her temple to her mouth—soft, hungry kisses that begged for more.

Before the kiss could deepen, Ivy pulled back her power. The loss severed the moment. Rain winced as the effects faded; she had pulled him from his numbness, and now the returning pain felt excruciatingly raw. He needed it gone. He needed her to take it away again.

She traced a finger along his jawline, stopping at his chin, her hazel eyes warm with understanding as she read the torment in his own.