Chapter 37
The Flame
Silas looked down at me one last time, his silver mask looking more sinister than I could ever recall, and then he walked away from me, leaving me alone in the forest.
I don’t know how long I lay there, barely clothed, covered in bruises, the wind whipping against my skin. On some deeper level, I knew I needed to get up, to clothe myself, to clean myself up. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet.
Every part of me ached. Every part of me was screaming in protest.
And yet I knew I had no choice. Silas had made it perfectly clear that he would find me wherever I went.
I needed help. I needed someone with far more experience in this world than I had. I needed someone who could match him.
It was that thought that spurred me on, that had me pulling my jeans back on and stumbling towards the house, using the trees to steady me.
I pushed open the heavy doors, aware that the guards were looking at me, and also aware that they did nothing to assist me. They didn’t even show a shred of sympathy. Their faces remained passive and neutral, as though Silas could do no wrong.
I didn’t bother closing the doors behind me. I went straight to the marble staircase and tried every door until I found the first bedroom available. I was crossing the room and entering the en-suite before I’d even registered my movements.
I wasn’t even aware I was in the shower until the cuts on my body stung under the water. When I looked down, I cringed at the mud caked to my feet, the leaves and twigs on the shower floor, and the dirt and blood running down my legs.
I washed my hair on autopilot, wrapped myself up in a dressing gown and was back in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into nothingness.
Do it, Isabelle. Don’t forget the plan.
I had made a plan?
My brain was hazy. I felt numb. Almost as though I were drifting away.
Get help.
My body must have known, because the next thing I knew I was digging in my jeans pocket for my phone, pulling up an internet search, and dialling a number before my brain had caught up.
“Vescari Enterprises, how may I help?”
I screamed. I don’t know how long for, I don’t know who passed the phone along, or how long he had been saying my name for. But eventually, it registered.
“Isabelle? Talk to me. Where are you?”
“I’m at Falcone Manor. I’m not okay. I—”
“Where is Silas?”
“Adrien, please. I—”
“Isabelle, listen to me. Silas is fucking dangerous. Where is he right now? Are you safe? Are—”
The phone shut off in my hand, the black screen staring back at me.
I didn’t even have the willpower to process what that meant.
Instead, I curled up on the bed and finally let the tears fall and sleep mercifully claim me.