24. Barrett
BARRETT
I blinked, agony lancing through every inch of my body, collecting and concentrating in my back.
“Barrett,” Lucia whispered, and I looked down at her, at her wide eyes as she lay amidst the rubble beneath me. Blood dripped onto her cheek, rolling down onto the dirt.
“Don’t move,” I groaned, feeling the weight of stone pinning me down.
“You’re bleeding,” she said, seeming to take no notice of her own wounds.
“I’ll be fine, just—” I winced as I pushed myself up, the rocks nearly too heavy. I managed to lift myself enough, muscles protesting as I shifted my weight onto one hand and shoved the sheet of rock off us.
I collapsed against it, chest heaving as I tried to pull in oxygen, the air too thin. “ Fuck.”
“No…” Lucia muttered, drawing my attention to her, to her wide, panicked eyes as she looked to where the entrance should be. She rose to her feet and stumbled toward it. “No. No. We can’t…”
The scent of blood filled the air, and I grunted as I pushed myself to my feet.
Crimson painted the stone, pooling on the ground and winding a path back to the pile of rubble that now barred our escape.
The faintest glimpse of a leather-clad hand peeked out from beneath the massive pile of boulders and rocks.
“No,” Lucia continued to chant, her hands passing over the stone as she searched for any means of escape. “We can’t be trapped. Can’t be?—”
“Hey,” I said, reaching out to touch her.
“No, I can’t… Not again,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks as she clawed and scratched at the stone. “Let me out!”
It was faint, but a voice cut through the silence, muffled.
“We’re here!” I called back, doubting they could understand. “I’ve got Lucia! She’s all right!”
No distinguishable response came, and Lucia continued to pull at stones. Air caught in my lungs as the boulders shifted, groaning under the weight of what remained of the ceiling. It might collapse on her.
“Lucia. Hey, look at me,” I said, grasping her arms to pull her away. Her wild, tear-filled eyes found me, her skin pale, her body trembling. “You’re gonna be all right. We’re gonna get out of this.”
Her eyes wavered, drifting back to the stone, to the glimpses of crushed bodies. “I need to get out. I need?—"
I forced her to look at me. “No, you look at me. I’m here with you. Focus on me.”
She swallowed but nodded, her breaths shallow—too shallow. The air was already thinner.
“Breathe,” I said firmly. “Slow. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
Her trembling hands tightened on my forearms.
“Close your eyes,” I said, and she did, drawing deep, shaky breaths. Carefully, I guided her through the rubble, feeling our way to an alcove where she was well away from what remained of her warriors. She stumbled behind me, holding onto me tightly.
“Here,” I whispered, turning to guide her down to sit.
“Please, don’t?—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her as I lowered to my knees before her.
Her lids lifted a fraction, as if she was too afraid to look up. I’d never seen her this afraid. She was always in control, level, and calm.
How the hell were we going to get out of this? Were Marcus and Alec both alive on the other side of that wall of stone? Were they getting help? I feared if we tried to move any of the stone, the rest of the cavern could come crumbling down on us .
I scanned the darkness, unable to make out much of anything, couldn’t even see the bars. Had every means of escape been cut off?
Lucia drew a shaky breath, and my heart twisted at how her hands trembled. I turned to settle in beside her, hating seeing her so shaken. I was supposed to watch her back, keep her safe. Now, she was trapped here, and I didn’t know if I could get her out.
“I used to tell my sister stories about you,” I whispered.
She didn’t speak, but I felt her lean against my shoulder.
“She always hoped she’d get to see you reincarnated and meet you one day,” I said.
“She used to make these...” I huffed a laugh at the memory, my eyes burning as I remembered how small she was.
“She used to make these flower crowns from the little blossoms that bloomed along the creekside of Moonhaven.
Lucia didn’t speak, but her expression softened.
“She made them for years, practicing until they were near perfect,” I said, my voice growing thick as I thought of how stupid it was that I was here and Calliope wasn’t.
She should be here, not me. “She always talked about how one day, when you returned, she would present you with one made of the jasmine blossoms that grow in Selene’s temple. ”
“You were very close to her, weren’t you?” she muttered, her voice a bit more even, though her hands still trembled.
“She was everything,” I admitted. “You would have liked her. She was nothing like me. She was everything good in the world, deserved everything it had to offer.”
“That same good lives within you,” she said, and I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge her words.
“Your father was abusive,” she said, not quite a question.
I drew a deep breath and nodded. “He was. Claimed he was molding me into the perfect future Kyrios of House Stoicheion, molding Cali into the perfect, submissive female to one day be mated to someone of importance.”
There was a strange relief in saying her name out loud, to not hold her close but to share what remained of her existence with someone for the first time in decades.
“I…” She hesitated, and I tilted my head to get a better look at her. “I was furious when I learned of what your father had subjected you and Calliope to. So few of our kind are able to bear children, and for those who are able, for them to treat such a precious gift so cruelly…”
She drew a deep breath. “When I met you in that cell, saw how tightly you had locked yourself away from others…I almost saw myself. A child who’d been beaten down into submission too many times, forced to do whatever it took to survive, fearful of trusting anyone or anything because everyone had failed me. ”
Something curled in my gut at her words. She…saw herself in me?
“Did your…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the question .
“They don’t get the privilege of being called my parents—they were never that,” she said, unable to look at me. “They kept me hidden, locked away from the sunlight, from the moonlight, for most of my life. For so many years, I was a prisoner… sold and used.”
The flames surged to life beneath my skin, white-hot anger flooding my system.
“Damien and Zephyr found me, pulled me out, helped me heal, but…”
“It’s something you never fully heal from,” I said when she couldn’t finish.
She nodded slowly. “I swore I would do everything in my power to ensure no other child suffered that way. I hated when I found you, when I learned of what had happened in my absence, how I’d not looked into it sooner. I could have prevented it all.”
“Don’t put that on yourself,” I said. “We were young when you were killed in Moonhaven, and he was really good at hiding what he truly was. He fooled a lot of people.”
She drew a shaky breath but nodded. “Sorry you had to see that.”
I shook my head. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that. I’ll tell you what,” I said, releasing her to stand. “Since you shared your deepest fear, I’ll share mine.”
Her dark brows furrowed.
“I’m scared of spiders,” I said.
She cocked a brow. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
I scoffed. “And here I thought you were the master of telling the truth from lies.”
She blinked.
“Try again. I’m not lying.”
Her lips twitched, revealing the faintest hint of a smile, and she stifled a laugh.
“No, it’s all right. Get it out of your system,” I said, relieved to see even the smallest hint of her cheerful self. “Can’t stand the fuckers.”
“Thank you. Your secret is safe with me,” she said and rose to her feet, shaking her hands out as if she was shaking the remnants of her panic away. “I think I can focus now.”
I tilted my head as she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.