Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The cry for help
SaPPHIRE
It took me a few days before I could move from the bed to the brown leather lounge chair without my limbs trembling and my heart thundering.
The small bed in the corner had become my personal sanctuary.
I hid behind the canopy curtains, burying myself under the blankets when my thoughts became too much.
Yet four days in, and my legs began to ache.
I rose from that safety and walked the perimeter of the room a few times, resting on the lounge when the bruises on my ribs demanded it.
It was like my body had finally given in from years of surviving; it just didn’t want to work at full capacity anymore. Abby had been more than kind, cooking and making sure I was comfortable.
Whenever a customer came in, she’d shut the door to the room and I rarely ever heard a sound. I was grateful for the silence. When Nik had left, I’d apologised for my outburst, and for presuming the worst of her. She’d waved it off like it was nothing.
I still didn’t know how I felt that Nik wasn’t a Shadowkin. Abby had explained that he was a Lightner from the Light Kingdom—Lucius. No wonder he was so persistent in The Grey. He probably knew I was going to die and was trying to save my soul.
Little good that did.
I flicked my gaze across the room, my eyes landing on the small table beside my bed. The coin he’d given me still sat on top where Abby had moved it to. I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it, but I also didn’t want to touch it. Touching felt like once I did, I’d never forget how it felt.
Choice. That’s what Nik had said.
But what kind of choice was it, really? Stay in the place I understood, or trust a man I barely knew and risk everything on a promise that sounded too good to be true.
Girls like me didn’t survive by choosing.
We survived by enduring.
I shifted in the chair, burying myself deeper, trying to find a comfortable position that allowed my back some relief from the ache my wings produced.
Inky black feathers spilled around me. I took one in between my fingers and rubbed its silken barbs.
I’d seen a few Thorns flying around Oscuro in the days I’d arrived here but I was too afraid to use mine.
If I was honest, I wish I didn't have them. Wings meant I was dead. The weight of them would always be a chain holding me down.
The door to Abby’s room creaked open. She stepped out, her eyes finding me within seconds. She grinned, and I smiled back. “I’ve got to step out and pay the landlord rent. Do you want to come with me?” she asked.
The thought of leaving the room and venturing back out made my stomach roil. I knew I couldn’t stay on Abby’s lounge forever, but for now, I relished the sanctuary it offered. “Is it alright if I stay here? Unless you’d like me to go.”
She shook her head quickly, and the thin strawberry blonde tendrils piled messily on her head shimmered in the light. “Not at all. Stay as long as you need.”
I waited for her to change her mind, or say something to offend me, but she didn't. She just flashed me a grin. I didn’t know what to do with that sort of kindness, so I offered her a small smile in return.
She stopped in the doorway, turning back to face me.
Heat washed over my body, and I readied myself for whatever else she had to say.
No doubt having to do with payment for all the nice things she’s done.
“I just wanted to say, if it makes any difference to that coin over there”—she nodded her head in the direction of the table—“Matthias is the best thing to ever have come from this unholy place. I’d give anything to have one of those coins. You should go with them.”
I swallowed down the knot in my throat, forcing my eyes back to her. “You can have it if you want.”
Abby laughed softly. “Thank you, but it’s meant for you. Promise you will at least think about it?”
The plea in her eyes stirred something foreign within me. Was I being too stubborn in refusing? Perhaps I should listen to someone else’s advice for once. Like Meeka’s. I should have left the Silver Finch when she’d begged me to. Taken what savings I had and run.
I nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“If you decide to, let me know. I will reach out to them.” She threw me another smile, and headed out of the shop. I didn’t even have time to ask her how she would do that.
It was an odd feeling . . . being left alone—the silence. In The Grey, there’d always been someone there, whether it be Kavish, a client, Shadowkin in the marketplace pointing fingers my way or . . . Meeka.
A tear slipped down my cheek, catching me off guard. I brushed it away just as another fell. My heart ached for the only friend I had. I missed her. And more than anything, I wished I could see her one last time. Her life was cut short because of me. I deserved to be in this place.
But so did Rhodes.
Fucking men. I hated them.
At least I hadn’t had to deal with them for a short period. Three days and not one male had touched me. I never thought I’d see the day when my body would be my own. It was a peculiar feeling—one I was determined to enjoy no matter how long it lasted.
I closed my eyes, resting my head on the back of the lounge.
My thoughts drifted to another male entirely, whose silver eyes sent a shiver down my spine.
If he’d been asking for me, I wouldn’t know.
The way his gaze had slithered over my skin when he told me not to disappear made my stomach twist. I went and did it though .
. . hid myself away unintentionally. Now I was too afraid to go back out there.
What if he found me and punished me? Could I bear it?
With a sigh, I opened my eyes, settling on the familiar black ribbon on the small table by the bed.
Next to it, lay the coin. It softly whispered, beckoning me with gentle fingers.
Yet I was still too afraid to touch it. Why had Nik given me the choice?
Why had Abby? Choice had fled my grasp long ago, and none had ever seemed to care.
My thoughts drifted to my red-haired protector-wanna-be—the way he’d looked at me when he came into the room, not with hunger or pity, but with something else entirely.
When he asked about my pain, it wasn’t to use it or twist it into something he could own.
He just . . . wanted to understand. I wasn’t used to that.
I was used to eyes that weighed, measured, took.
He’d seen past the bruises and the act I’d learned to wear like armour.
And that terrified me.
Abby said I should have gone with Nik. Maybe she was right. But maybe I just didn’t have it in me to believe a man could actually care enough about me and not want something in return.
It was too late though. They were gone—both of them—and I had no idea if they would ever come back.
All too quickly, the room closed in around me, suffocating. I needed to move, to find a way to put all these thoughts far from my mind. So I rose and decided to explore the place that Abby called home.
First I tidied up, smoothed the pillow on the bed, and fixed the blankets.
It gave me something to control, something small that stayed where I put it.
Once the bed was neat, I wandered along the walls, tracing the designs Abby had pinned there—inked sketches of wings, flowers, bones.
Tiny pieces of beauty stitched into the ugliness of Oscuro.
Every piece looked alive somehow, like the ink itself was breathing.
Wings stretched across parchment, their shadows caught mid-flight; skeletal hands curved around blooming roses; words I couldn’t read etched small and careful in the corners.
It was strange, seeing something so delicate in a place that devoured softness like breath.
The paper edges were curled and stained, smudged by fingerprints and time, but they still held their shape—like they refused to give in.
I found myself lingering on one that looked like light trapped inside dark water.
Abby had drawn it with such detail that I almost reached out to touch it.
Maybe that’s what I liked most about this room—it wasn’t pretending the world was kind. It was proof that even here, in a city built on ruin, someone still believed beauty was worth making.
I cautiously wandered out into the front of her shop, noting the long black chair in the middle of the room—no doubt where her inked creations came to life. The scent of soap and herbs was stronger here.
More pictures lined the walls on worn parchment.
I ran my fingers over a sketch of a moth, it seemed familiar.
I stepped closer peering at the design. The male that was with Nik—Matthias—he had it inked over his throat.
Even though I only saw him briefly in the chaotic moment of panic, I remembered it.
My brow pinched in wonder. If he was the best thing to ever come from Oscuro, why was he with Nik, a Lightner from Lucius?
I moved onto another design. The image was a bunch of black roses, their petals dripping with ink that pooled on the ground, like the flowers themselves were weeping.
I was so focused on the sorrow sketched into the beauty that I didn’t hear the front door to the shop open until it was too late. I froze. A heavy step stumbled inside, uneven, clumsy. My stomach dropped before I even turned.
“Abby!” a brash voice called.
A man.
My body shook involuntarily, the force of it rattling my teeth.
Then his broad frame filled the doorway, his dusty-black wings twitching behind him. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he wore tattered clothes, holding a half empty glass bottle of gold liquid. “Where’s Abby?” he slurred. “I need a tattoo.”
My throat tightened. I couldn’t move or breathe. My mind told me to run, but my feet wouldn’t obey.
He frowned, his face twisting. “You deaf or somethin’? I said I need a tattoo. Where’s Abby?”
The sound of his voice tore through the quiet, too loud, too close. The peace I’d built over the past few days shattered like glass. My hands trembled at my sides, and I stumbled backward, one slow step at a time, until the black leather chair pressed cold against my legs.
He took another step forwards, the smell of ale and sweat hitting me like a wall. “Oi, I’m talkin’ to you!” he yelled in my face as he threw the bottle down on the ground. Glass shattered, slicing at my bare legs. I felt warmth spilled down my skin, and I didn’t need to look to know I was bleeding.
“I—” The word scraped out of me before I could stop it. “Sh . . . she isn’t in.”
The tremor in my voice gave me away. He sneered, stumbling closer. “Then why are you here, huh? You one of her little helpers?”
I was trapped between him and the chair, violently shaking as adrenaline pumped through my veins. I didn’t want to do this again—deal with an obnoxious man who might use violence to get what he wanted.
“You’re real pretty, but you sure are stupid.” He grinned at me, and I nearly emptied the contents of my stomach onto the floorboards. His teeth were crooked, stained yellow like aged tombstones left in the sun too long.
My body began to fold in on itself. First my hearing dimmed—his words turning muffled, warped, distant.
Then my vision smeared at the edges, pulsing with every thunderous beat of my heart.
And when those grimy fingers reached for my hair, whatever thoughts I’d been clinging to scattered like frightened birds.
I hated it here. I wished I could die a true death and be done with existence. Maybe then I would find peace.
“How about you give me a tattoo then?” he suggested, leering down at my breasts before returning his ugly gaze to my face.
Before I could answer, the door opened again.
Abby’s boots hit the floorboards hard as she stomped into the room. “What the hell are you doing here, Taron?” she snapped, eyes darting between him and me.
A small amount of relief washed over me in her presence, but it was too late. The damage had already been done.
He threw up his hands, all false innocence. “Didn’t do nothin’. Just came for a tattoo.”
“Then come back another day,” Abby barked. “You’re drunk, making a mess and scaring my guest.”
“I said I didn’t do nothin’!” he shouted back, the sound echoing off the walls. They went back and forth, voices rising, neither of them seeing me shrink smaller and smaller into the corner.
The walls felt like they were closing in, the air too thick to swallow. All I could hear was the pounding of my pulse and the echo of another night—the hands, the darkness, the helplessness.
When the door slammed again, the silence that followed hurt worse than the noise.
Abby turned, face flushed, eyes darting to me. “Sapphire, I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “Hey, it’s all right now. He’s gone.” She grasped my hands in hers, but I felt nothing. My body was numb.
I couldn’t move. Every muscle locked. I could see her mouth forming shapes, but the words were distant, like they were coming from underwater.
I needed something to hold me before I shook right out of my skin.
Abby rubbed my hands vigorously as she spoke. I dragged my gaze up to meet her, tears spilling from the corner of my eyes. “I need Nik.”