Page 135
And I can only watch as the darkness swallows everything whole.
CHAPTER
SIXTY-ONE
The room is complete chaos. Voices crashing over each other, boots slamming against the floor, hands pulling, shoving, grabbing.
The air feels sharp, alive, like it’s crawling over my skin, a pulse I can’t escape.
The men drag the girl forward, her screams cutting through everything, raw and piercing, making the walls seem to close in. She kicks, jerks, fights with everything she has, her small body thrashing wildly.
Her tear-filled eyes lock onto mine, wide and desperate.
“Please!” she screams, her voice cracking, splitting apart at the edges. “Please, don’t let them!”
Something inside me snaps.
I lunge forward, the chain at my throat jerking hard, slamming me back. The cold links bite deep into raw, torn skin. A white-hot bolt of pain streaks down my spine, but I don’t stop. I thrash against the restraints, twisting, clawing, a wounded animal fighting an invisible cage.
“Take me!” I scream, the words shredding my throat, tearing loose like broken glass. “Leave her alone!”
The room stills.
The chanting halts.
The men freeze, shadows cast in eerie stillness as Clyde steps forward, his boots measured, heavy, final.
“I submit,” I croak.
He crouches beside me, his face carved from calm stone, but his eyes gleam, sharp, gleaming with something almost… delighted.
“This is what you want?” he asks softly, his voice wrapped in silk, cold and cutting. “To take her place?”
“Yes.” The word rips from me, hoarse, raw, broken. “Let her go.”
He tilts his head, studying me as though I’m some specimen beneath a glass case. His lips curl into a small, knowing smile.
“And what will you do, Lydia?” His tone lowers, intimate, coaxing. “Will you finally accept your purpose?”
The fire sputters in my chest, weak… so weak. My body trembles under all of it: the pain, the chains, the screams.
I force my eyes to his. “Yes,” I whisper, my voice hollow, bitter as ash. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
A pause. My lips crack. My jaw tightens. “Just let her go.”
The men murmur among themselves, their voices swirling like restless ghosts. Unease ripples through the room, jagged and sharp. Clyde lifts a hand, fingers spread, trembling ever so slightly. The murmurs die instantly, swallowed by a suffocating silence.
He straightens, his shadow stretching long and ominous across the cracked floor, spilling toward me like a dark tide.
“So be it,” he says, his voice low, reverent… final.
He flicks his fingers toward the girl. The men release her. She crumples, collapsing forward, her small hands scraping against the cold concrete, her sobs folding into the floor.
“Take her out of the room,” Clyde commands, his tone calm. Too calm. Too controlled.
Relief floods me, dizzy and fragile, a rush of air I didn’t know I’d been holding. The men lift her gently, her limp body sagging between them, her eyes wide and wet with terror. They guide her toward the door.
For a fleeting second, hope sparks.
