Chapter 23
The weight of unspoken things
JUDE
I’m done.
I’ve had enough. I’ve been locked in this room for days now—days of confusion, frustration, and a gnawing sense that the world is wrong, that something has gone terribly wrong.
But Soren refuses to tell me what the hell is happening.
Instead, I’m chained to this bed, my fingernails bleeding from my repeated attempts to free myself.
My pacing increases and I prowl back and forth, the weight of my frustration settling like a storm.
Every inch of me screams to leave, to get out, to find out what the hell is going on.
But no. I’m stuck here, kept in the dark like a prisoner in my own skin.
Every time I demand answers, Soren just looks at me with that infuriating calm, his eyes distant, like I’m a nuisance, like the urgency burning through my chest is nothing more than an inconvenience to him.
I don’t know why he’s doing this.
I don’t know why he won’t tell me anything.
“Just tell me.”
I thought Lorien and I were getting somewhere. I thought there was something real between us. But now I’m left here, tangled in confusion, and the only thing I trust is the anger rising like a tide in my chest.
None of this makes sense.
He abandoned me, walking away like nothing is at stake, like I don’t matter.
He’s left me in Soren’s hands, chained and helpless like a fucking prisoner, and I was wrong to trust him.
He was supposed to understand, to help me through this madness, and be there no matter what.
Instead, he’s gone and I’m left drowning in this complicated mess of his lies, his silence, and my own broken heart.
My fingers curl into fists as I slam one of them against the bedframe.
I can’t stand this anymore. I won’t stand for it.
The walls are closing in, like the room itself is suffocating me, and all that remains is this blistering need to break free of it all, to find Lorien, to make sense of this.
There’s a part of me that tells me I should hate him—hate Lorien—for doing this, for disappearing.
But the truth is, I just don’t know what to feel anymore.
I don’t know who to trust, who is on my side, or if there even is a side I can count on.
“Let me out, Soren,” I spit, my voice low, barely containing the fury bubbling within me. “Now.”
But Soren says nothing. He just stands there, distant, his expression unreadable, as though my anger doesn’t even reach him. His eyes flicker only briefly over me, like I’m an insect he’s too tired to deal with. I’m so far beyond frustrated that the air itself feels thick with tension.
I know Soren is powerful, and I know he’s dangerous, but I need answers.
I need to know what the hell is going on, why I’m trapped in this room.
I have to know if I’ve done something, if this is in some way my fault.
I edge closer to Soren, my fists clenching tighter.
“Are you even listening to me?” I demand, my voice breaking through the silence.
His gaze flickers, but he doesn’t move. “I cannot give you the answers you want, Jude. Pass the time however you must, but stop tearing yourself apart over what you cannot change.”
It’s not right. None of this is right.
And then the door slams open.
I freeze, heart stuttering in my chest.
I don’t know why I didn’t sense it coming.
Maybe it’s because I’m so caught up in the web of frustration and hurt, but I don’t hear the footsteps.
I just feel a presence in the room—a weight, a shift in the air.
Maybe it’s because my heart has leapt into my chest when I see him, but he’s here, even if barely.
Lorien.
His body is covered in dried blood, his clothes clinging to him like they’ve been soaked in crimson, and his face is pale, like the life has drained from it.
He looks like he’s been through hell. He staggers and I move, trying to reach him, and the damn chain on my collar yanks me back, keeping me from him.
I’m writhing on the floor as a flood of conflicting emotions hits me all at once. Relief, anger, confusion, fear, panic all crash into me like a wave I can’t escape and I scramble backward, unsure of what the hell I’m supposed to do.
“Soren?” Lorien growls.
Even now, his muscles ripple with threat.
Maybe more now than ever before.
His eyes fix on the chain tethering me to the bed and his lips curl into a vicious snarl, as if it’s the most offensive thing he’s ever seen.
Soren stares, his expression sharp enough to cut glass, his lips curling into a curious mix of amusement and disdain.
“You look like hell, Lorien.”
A muscle ticks in Lorien’s jaw. His lips press together, and he stares for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, except for the way his fingers curl into fists at his sides, like he’s restraining the urge to strike something.
The air between them is thick with tension, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on all of us.
“A fucking explanation, Soren. Now. Before I gut you and anyone who dared step foot in this room.”
“This is of your own doing, Lorien, and you have no one to blame but yourself. He has paced for days on end, threatening everyone with violence and anything he can think of just to be given the chance to reason with you,” Soren continues, his tone dripping with contempt.
“He would not stay, and it was this chain, that cage, or your dungeons. Your orders were clear, and you can deal with the consequences of them for once, Majesty.”
Lorien’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, they’re as cold as the steel chains binding me. There’s a flicker of regret, but it passes so quickly that it makes me doubt I ever saw it at all. He doesn’t speak, stepping closer, his limp dragging with each movement.
“Are you going to ask?” he says, turning to Soren.
“No,” he replies from the doorway. “It is obvious you did not succeed, and this was an even greater mistake than I feared it would be.”
The door slams shut and we’re left alone with each other and the heavy silence around us.
Our hearts pound, our breathing falters, and we stare at each other, both dazed and overcome with the whirlwind of emotions swirling around us.
We’re at the center of a storm and neither of us knows if we’ll weather it.
“You left me here,” I blurt, my frustration too much to contain. “You left me to rot in this goddamn room, while you… where the fuck were you, Lorien?”
“Stop,” he says, his voice sharp despite the weakness in it. “It’s not what you think.”
“You left me.” I’m practically shouting now. “I thought I could trust you. I thought we were—”
“Jude.” Lorien’s voice cracks, raw and desperate. “Listen to me.”
But I can’t.
I don’t know how.
I just stare at him, my mind a whirlwind of confusion, rage, and betrayal. He’s standing there, blood-soaked and broken, and yet he still can’t seem to meet my gaze like he used to, as if he’s not the same person.
“Where the hell have you been?” I’m breathless, desperate. “Have you been fucking someone else?”
The words spill out, jagged and vicious, before I can stop them.
The thought rips through me like a serrated blade, carving me open from the inside.
A pulse of jealousy burns through me and it ignites into an inferno.
It lights into a blaze I can’t control, the hurt and festering ache racing through my veins, catching the sharp edge of my breathing, and making my hands shake with the need to do something—to hit him, to pull him closer, to knit his wounds together, to demand why.
Lorien flinches, but it’s not enough. It’s nothing compared to the way my chest is caving in, the way my heart is hammering against my ribs, torn between fury and a far more dangerous emotion, and it tastes like grief.
He was gone.
He left me here.
He abandoned me.
Lorien exhales sharply, his finger twitching like he wants to reach for me.
His shoulders are tight, his body held in a stance that’s half-defensive, half-defeated, like he’s bracing for another blow, but knows he won’t fight back.
There’s a hollowness in his eyes, like he’s searching for words, but they never come.
Instead, his throat works around a silent swallow, his jaw tightening, his entire body screaming restraint. He looks exhausted, frayed at the edges, and he looks like he’s hurting.
Just as much as I am.
“You think I would do that?” His voice is quiet, but the tremor beneath it is not. Nor is his anger, his disbelief, or the wound I’ve just given him that cuts deeper than any other he’s carrying. “After everything, Jude?”
“I don’t know what to think!” My voice cracks, raw and ragged.
“You disappeared. We fucked and you left. You were gone, Lorien. You didn’t send word, and they wouldn’t tell me anything.
You just fucking vanished and now you’re standing here, covered in blood, looking at me like you don’t even recognize me. ”
We inhale in unison, and our eyes flick back to each other.
I swallow, my throat burning. “So tell me, Lorien, what the fuck was I supposed to think?”
His jaw clenches. “You were supposed to know me better than that.”
The words hit me like a slap. I lurch forward, shoving him hard.
“How the hell am I supposed to know you? You never let me close, you condescending twat. You never tell me anything, never give me a fucking choice, and it’s all so damn confusing that I don’t even know where to begin with unpicking it.
And now, you dare—” My voice breaks, and I force it back together.
“You left me, Lorien. You left me here like I was nothing. Like I was trash.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did.” My fists collide with his chest again, and this time, he catches my wrists, gripping them tight.
His hands are warm, solid, grounding, and I don’t want them. I don’t want to be calmed or steadied. I want to burn, to break, to force him to feel even one fraction of what I’ve been drowning in since the moment I woke in an empty bed.
“I fought for you,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “I trusted you. I fucking loved you, and you—” My breath hitches. “You just walked away.”
Lorien’s fingers tighten around my wrists, his own breathing uneven. His golden eyes burn into mine, searching, pleading. He’s struggling with his emotions as much as I am, and somehow he’s not falling apart.
“I had to,” he says, his voice barely audible.
And the last thread holding me together snaps.
My body moves before my mind catches up.
My fist collides with his jaw, the crack of it splitting the silence.
Lorien stumbles back, but I don’t stop. I don’t think, I don’t hesitate.
I just hit him again, and again and again, my fists landing on his ribs, his chest, his arms, on anywhere I can reach.
He takes it.
His golden eyes widen, shock flashing across his face before something darker takes hold. He barely raises a hand to defend himself. Instead, he lets me lash out, lets me punish him, lets me break against him like a storm against rock.
“Say something!” I snarl, slamming my fist into his shoulder. “Fucking say something, Lorien!”
His breath hitches, his fingers twitching at his sides. He could stop me. I know he could stop me, but he doesn’t. He stands there and takes every hit, like he thinks he deserves it. Maybe he does. Maybe I don’t care.
“I had to leave,” he grits out, his voice rough, strained. “It wasn’t safe—”
I shove him again, but this time, he catches my wrists and wrenches them down.
“Safe?” I bark a bitter, hollow laugh. “You think this is fucking safe, Lorien? You think leaving me to rot in chains while you ran off to—” My breath hitches. “Where the fuck did you even go?”
His grip tightens, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough that I can feel the tension in his fingers, the desperation bleeding from him.
“I was trying to fix this,” he says, and for the first time, his voice cracks. “I was trying to protect you.”
The words dig into me like a serrated blade. My rage falters, but it doesn’t vanish. It can’t vanish—not after everything.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” My voice is barely more than a whisper, raw and aching. “Why did you just leave?”
His jaw tightens, but his eyes—fuck, his eyes—they’re pleading. “Because I couldn’t risk it.”
I shake my head, trying to tear myself free from his hold, but he won’t let go. He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling in uneven, ragged movements. There’s blood drying in his hair, streaking his cheek, and I realize he’s not unscathed either.
But I can’t forgive him. Not until he tells me the truth.
He takes a breath. “Jude—”
“No,” I rasp, trying to pull back. “Don’t. I can’t. I can’t, Lorien. Not right now. Not unless you’re prepared to be honest.”
He flinches. It’s subtle, but I see it. And for the first time, I see him.
I see the exhaustion, the weight of everything he’s been carrying on his own for so long, and the war that’s raging inside him.
I see the hurt and pain, the loneliness, and the desperate need to be understood.
To be forgiven, even when he won’t ask for it.
To be loved, even though he isn’t sure he’s earned it, and keep his failings hidden, using a silence borne from fear and not indifference to hold back a truth that he thinks might shatter everything.
And I don’t know if it’s enough. I don’t know if this is enough. Not until he stops hiding. Not until he finally lets me in.
I swallow hard. “Just tell me one thing. One honest thing.”
Lorien’s throat bobs as he nods.
I force myself to meet his gaze. “Are you going to leave me again?”
His answer takes too long.
And that is all I need to know.
“Then we’re done talking.”
The remnants of my heart shatter into more pieces than can ever heal, and I step back as Lorien finally releases his grip.
His expression flickers through hurt, regret, pain and longing, but he doesn’t stop me as I turn away, retreating into the shadows of the room, leaving him standing there with all the things I don’t have the strength to hear, and he doesn’t have the courage to tell me.