Chapter 35 Braiden
Croía’s scent burns through me, relentless, as if it’s wedged deep in my chest. Every beat of my heart is hers now.
It pulls at me like chains, dragging me through the dark.
My veins thrum with a hunger I don’t understand, something primal that answers only to her.
The closer I let myself lean into it, the more the air around me twists, as if the entire world wants me to find her, to tear down anything that stands in my way.
No longer fighting it, I let the power drag me. It knows her as well as I do. The darkness bends when I move, splitting open to reveal trails of her essence. It’s not sight, or sound, but something deeper. A tether buried inside me, yanking me forward.
The further I follow it, the less human I feel.
My footsteps don’t echo anymore; the shadows swallow them whole.
My skin prickles, alive with heat and static.
Her scent is as sharp as lightning. My teeth grind and my muscles snap tight.
I would rip this world apart if it meant she was at the end of this trail.
Níl aon rud eile tábhachtach. Ní cé mé féin, ní cad atá mé ag éirí. Ise amháin. Croía. (Nothing else matters. Not who I was, not what I’m becoming. Only her. Croía.)
Her scent leads me to a castle, its silhouette jagged against the blackening sky.
Its towers claw at the clouds like desperate fingers, and shattered windows stare as if they’re blind eyes.
The stone is darkened with soot and age, streaked with ivy that drips as though it’s veins over the walls.
Gargoyles leer from ledges, frozen in grotesque snarls.
The gates are massive iron beasts, scarred with old scratches that seem to whisper of those who dared enter and failed.
It smells of damp stone and rot, both a warning and a lure.
My chest thrums with power, urging me forward.
She’s here, somewhere inside. I can feel her presence.
With my bare footsteps silent on the cracked cobblestones, I circle the castle’s perimeter.
Shadows twist and stretch unnaturally in the dim light, as if the walls themselves are watching.
Every gargoyle’s leer seems to follow me, mocking, daring me to step closer.
Windows gape as if they’re empty sockets, revealing nothing but darkness inside.
Desperate to find Croía, I weave through the undergrowth away from the main gates. Branches and thorns snag at my naked body, but I barely notice. I don’t rush. I stalk. Every corner could hide a trap. The power inside me hums, guiding my steps with a magnetic pull toward her.
Careful not to disturb the brittle glass, I find a broken window and slip through.
The air inside is thick with dust, and something metallic that makes my stomach twist. Torches flicker along the walls, casting long shadows that crawl across the dark stone.
Every creaking beam, every distant drip of water, makes my senses flare.
My new power hums beneath my skin, guiding me. A subtle vibration in the floor, the scent of Croía’s essence in the air. I follow it like a hunter tracking prey, every step silent and precise.
Hallways twist unnaturally, chambers open into spaces that seem impossibly large, and the staircases spiral into shadow. I pause at every corner, pressing my ear to the cold stone, feeling for movement, as if each shadow is a potential threat.
In a long hallway, I pause for a moment. I can feel the unbroken will radiating from Croía as though it’s a beacon summoning me forward, and it pulls me toward a beat-up looking door to my right.
Each step I take, the walls seem to lean closer.
Cautiously, I press my fingers against the splintered edge of the cracked door, my heart hammering as the room’s darkness coils around me.
Croía’s scent hits me first, but there’s something else here, slithering through the shadows with a predator’s patience.
It doesn’t seek her to claim, only to guard, and its vigilance drips like venom into the air.
Every pulse of its presence claws at me, a silent promise of pain for anyone foolish enough to step closer.
Just enough to slip inside, I edge the door open.
My senses scream the moment I cross the threshold.
Croía is sprawled on the floor, her silver hair fanning around her like a halo of light in the dark room.
That’s not all. There’s a hellhound, and his massive black frame looms over her.
For a heartbeat I think he’s about to tear her apart…
then I see. He’s not attacking. His massive tongue laps at her cheek, nudging her gently as if coaxing her awake.
There’s a strange tenderness in the gesture, and my pulse quickens with a mix of shock and disbelief.
The air screams danger as I step closer, my bare feet barely making a sound against the floor.
Every muscle in my body is coiled tight.
The hellhound shifts his weight as a low rumble vibrates through the floor.
A spike of tension shoots through me. I push it down, forcing my focus onto Croía.
My chest tightens as I lift her, and I can’t stop the surge of protectiveness that floods me.
Every beat of my heart hammers with fear for her, a desire to shield her.
The hellhound’s presence adds a tense edge, I feel his power, his readiness to strike, and it sets my own nerves on fire.
As I start to move, the hellhound follows, padding behind as if he’s some dark guardian, growling low, reminding me that whatever this creature is, it’s loyal and it’s watching.