53. Thea
Thea
Is This the Part Where I’m Supposed to Scream?
It’s Friday night. Dylan drags Zair to a nightblind party and no one pretends I should go.
Instead I text Benson to meet me at the library and test my theory on how to make the books readable to goblins.
Feeling guilty that, between everything else, I forgot.
The walk isn’t long. But as I step into the dimly lit path between buildings, the usual background noise of campus life fades into an eerie stillness. An uneasy shiver creeps through me.
I glance over my shoulder. Nothing but the empty sway of lampposts. But the sensation of being watched clings to me like a second shadow.
Quickening my pace, I reach the library and push through the heavy doors. The familiar scent of old books and wood polish wraps around me like a protective cloak. I exhale, telling myself I’m imagining things, but the tension in my chest doesn’t ease.
The second floor is quieter than usual, unsettlingly so. I pause, sensing movement at the edge of my vision. I turn sharply into a secluded aisle and press my back against the shelf, heart hammering.
“Relax, it’s just me,” Ethan’s voice cuts through the silence, and he steps into view with a lopsided grin.
“Ethan,” I exhale, irritation flaring. “What are you doing sneaking around like that?”
He shrugs, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “I wasn’t sneaking. I saw you walking here and thought we could… talk.”
“Talk?” I fold my arms, unconvinced.
He steps closer, the dim light casting strange shadows across his face. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Maybe because I don’t want to be around you,” I retort and attempt to brush past him. He moves to block my path.
“Come on, don’t be like that.” His tone is edgy. “I think we’ve been misunderstanding each other.”
“I don’t think so,” I reply indifferently, trying again to step around him. His hand darts out, seizing my arm.
“Just… hear me out,” he pleads, as his grip tightens. “You think you don’t need me, but that’s not true. Without me, you’re lost. We could be something unstoppable together.”
“I don’t need you, Ethan,” I reply tartly, failing to shake my arm free.
His expression shifts from casual to stern. “You’re always so quick to dismiss me. But I see you. Really see you. Not like those boys.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my patience fraying.
“They don’t care about you,” he says, voice rising. “You’ve been here two years, and they never even looked at you. What changed? What made them suddenly take notice? You think Zair woke up one day and decided to break his rules for you?”
His words hit harder than I expect. He steps closer, his gaze intense, almost pleading.
“I’m telling you the truth because I care about you.
Benson is sleeping his way across campus after you bragged about him.
Zair only notices you now because you’ve gotten stronger.
Mavrik will drag you down with his shadows.
But me? I saw you when you were nothing.
I stayed when everyone else turned away. You need me.”
“You don’t get to decide my worth, Ethan.”
“Anita told me you’d say that. Told me you’d try to push me away. That you’d never comprehend that we belong together. But I’m not giving up on you.”
My blood turns cold at her name, the realization settling like a lead weight in my chest.
“Anita?”
What kind of spell is she using on you, Ethan? A charm? He’s still talking, but I’ve stopped listening.
“Ethan, did Anita give you anything?” I hedge. He has a necklace and a watch. It could be either, or neither. Dammit, I need to start carrying a goblin blade. I should have realized it sooner. He’s been acting strange for weeks.
“No. I told you, I never slept with her. I wouldn’t do that. You’re the one I’ve wanted all along. You’re everything to me!”
Is he purposefully misunderstanding me?
He pulls a vial from his pocket and before I can react smashes it against the floor. The air thickens around me like tar. My limbs freeze mid-motion. It slams me against the bookshelf behind me. The impact rattles through my spine and pins my wrists at my sides. Panic flares in my chest.
“I didn’t want to do it like this,” he says, almost apologetic. “But you leave me no choice.” He brushes a hand down my arm. His fingers trail over my skin like he owns me. “You’ll see,” he whispers. “This is what we’re meant for.”
Suddenly his mouth is on mine: wet, demanding, cruel.
How dare he?
The heat in my chest ignites. Electric. Unstoppable.
I don’t try to control it. I want it to burn.
The spell shatters with a violent crack.
Magic roars through me. I slam him backward with a burst of brutal power.
Ethan flies across the aisle, crashing into the far shelf.
Books rain down as he crumples to the floor.
My hands tremble and I shove them into my pockets. I remind myself that he’s not in control. My skin is glowing again, lit from within like embers under glass.
“Don’t ever touch me again.”
I turn and stomp away, every step deliberate, every breath an effort to stay calm. I storm out of the library, anger still crackling beneath my skin. I spot Benson walking down the path.
“Hey, Thea!” he calls, cheerful at first — but his tone shifts when he sees my face. “You okay?”
“I’m going to kill that witch,” I snarl. Smoke is probably coming out of my ears.
“Zair?” Benson asks, eyebrows knitting.
“No. Ethan.” My voice shakes. “He tried to force himself on me. He kissed me.”
The fury cracks through me, and without meaning to, the wind surges, violent and reckless, twirling leaves into the air around us. I squeeze my eyes shut and fight to calm it. Breathe in. Breathe out. Slowly, the air stills.
When I open my eyes again, Benson is just standing there. Still. Watching me like he’s barely holding it together himself. But we both know there’s nothing he can do. There’s history in his silence. The kind that taught goblins what happens when they hit back. He takes a settling breath.
“You want me to walk you home?” he asks quietly. “We can throw on a movie.”
I nod, suddenly too tired to pretend I’m fine.
“Yeah. I’d appreciate that.”
We walk through the quiet night. The tension doesn’t leave me. I get that feeling again — that tight pull in my chest, like someone’s watching. My senses are on edge, hyper-aware of every creak of the lampposts, every gust of wind stirring the leaves. Am I being paranoid?
I glance over my shoulder every few steps, but there’s no one there. Just the two of us walking through the empty campus.
Then, as we near the final turn, the sensation slams into me again. That heavy, crawling awareness. My skin prickles. The air feels wrong.
“You thinking comedy or romance?” Benson asks, casual like nothing’s off.
“What?” I snap, sharper than I mean to.
“For the movie,” he says, blinking. “I didn’t mean to… I thought…”
I see it then, the flash of hurt in his eyes. He thinks I wasn’t serious. Before I can respond, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I stop cold, heart pounding. I grab his arm.
“I think we’re being followed.”
He looks around as the screech of tires slices through the night. My stomach drops as strong gloved hands grab me from behind.
I barely have time to register it before a sharp, metallic click rings in the air as a cold, unforgiving cuff snaps around my left wrist. A wave of pain shoots through me as the cuff tightens, my magic instantly snuffed out, paralyzing my senses.
Not again.
I feel rope bite into my skin and then a rough fabric is pulled over my head, suffocating me with darkness.
Adrenaline stirs, coiling low in my gut as I’m shoved forward.
A metallic door groans open, and I’m thrown inside.
My face smacks against the cold, hard floor; my bound hands useless to break the fall.
Pain lances through my ribs, and my wrists throb from the restraints, but I can’t focus on that now.
The van rocks as Benson lands beside me. The door slams shut with a deafening thud, and the vehicle lurches forward. My breaths are shallow, burning with every inhale. Panic claws at me but I can’t give in. Not now. Not ever again.
“Thea?” Benson rasps.
“Yeah,” I barely manage. “I’m here.”
The van hums beneath us. We stop. Then start again.
Slowing, turning. It feels like they’re obeying traffic laws.
Time twists. The cuffs burn against my skin like live wires.
Every bump and turn feels amplified, as if my body has become nothing but bruises and nerves.
I lose track of everything but the motion.
The road beneath us turns rough; potholes, gravel. Then a hard stop and cold night air slaps my skin. They’re dragging me out, stumbling and helpless.
“Got the girl. And the goblin too,” one of them announces, his voice full of contempt.
“Warehouse for now,” a gravelly voice replies. “We’ll sort it out later.”
The air shifts as I’m shoved forward, the faint tang of rust and oil before I fall and my knees hit the ground hard.
The door slams behind me with a hollow thud, followed by the sharp, definitive click of a lock.
The cuff digs into my wrist. The burning sensation is dulled now. Too familiar to rattle me.
“Benson.” I force my voice to stay steady. “Where are you?”
For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of his labored breaths. Then, finally, his voice breaks through the dark, “I’m here.”
I shift backwards toward the sound of his voice. When I feel his shirt in my hands, I tell him to turn around.
“I’ll get your hands free, and then you can help me.”
He hesitates, whimpering slightly from the pain, but I feel him shift. My fingers grab his and hold them for a moment before I fumble with the bindings around his wrists. Once I loosen the knots he pulls off my blindfold before working on the rest of my restraints.
When I’m free, I turn to him, catching the faint outline of his face in the dim light. Tears streak his cheeks, glinting faintly as I reach for his hands.
“It’ll be okay,” I tell him softly. “The pain won’t go away. But you’ll get used to it.”
“How do you know that?” he snaps, the pain talking.
“I’ve had these cuffs on before,” I say quietly. “The longer you wear them, the less… well, it’s always unbearable, but you get used to the pain.”
His breathing steadies slightly, though his voice remains stiff.
“How long did you wear them?”
“Not now,” I say tightly. “Do you know who took us?”
He shakes his head, his expression twisting with frustration. “No, but they’re goblins. I can tell by the resonance.”
“Why would goblins want us?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He sounds defeated.
Benson sinks to the floor, leaning back against the cold, damp wall. His free hand clutches at the magical cuff on his wrist, his fingers trembling from the pain. “I don’t know how you did this before,” he says through gritted teeth. “I feel like my veins are on fire.”
I crouch in front of him, resisting the urge to grab his hand. He’s hurting, but I can’t focus on that right now.
“It’ll dull. I promise. Just… hold on.”
He doesn’t reply. His head rests against the wall as he exhales shakily. The cuffs are draining both of us, but if I sit here and do nothing, I’ll lose myself to the pain.
I won’t let that happen. Never again.