Chapter 36 #2
What I hadn’t chosen was to come back here.
The place that was fuelled by chaos and despair.
Where there was never any peace or silence.
I longed for the gentle lull of the ocean lapping at the shore—for the cool drag of wet sand between my toes and the way the water crept up my ankles before retreating again.
I missed the scent of salt clinging to my skin, the way the wind carried it into every breath, sharp and clean and alive.
Sometimes I closed my eyes and imagined the weightlessness of floating just beyond the break, the swell lifting me and setting me down as if the sea itself were holding me.
And every now and then, in the dark of Oscuro, I caught myself smiling at the memory—and it made the walls feel a little farther away. It helped me endure a little longer.
Sometimes Snake took the horses through the streets during the day.
He put me on my own mount, but never truly apart from him—my reins looped and tied to his saddle so closely that my horse was forced to match his pace step for step.
I couldn’t slow. I couldn’t pull away. Even the illusion of distance was denied me.
I hated being paraded around, hated the way eyes followed me, but choice had long since been ripped from my possession.
Then there were the nights of endless fucking until I could barely move.
Those were the nights I caught myself dreaming of Nik’s house, of quiet rooms and the soft weight of Wisp curled against my chest. But I never dreamed of Nik himself.
That hurt too much. Even asleep, my mind refused to touch him.
I glanced across the room towards the bed where Snake lay sleeping soundly, his breathing slow, and even, unaware or uncaring, it made no difference. I sat perched on the windowsill again, knees drawn up. The weak moonlight lit the streets below, making the cobblestones look pale green.
The city lay quieter at this hour, but it was never truly settled. There was always someone or something scurrying about in the shadows that stretched long and thin across the stone like they were reaching for something they couldn't quite touch.
My chest ached with the effort of staying quiet.
Tears slipped down my face anyway, hot and humiliating, soaking my hollowed chest. I didn’t wipe them away. In the dark, when no one could see, there was no point in pretending that I wasn’t broken.
I leaned forwards slightly, just enough to feel the pull of empty air beyond the sill. I was at least four stories high. The impact would definitely send me to the endless, dark abyss of the True Death realm.
“If anyone can hear me,” I breathed, voice barely there, “give me a reason not to jump.”
The night didn’t answer. But I stayed there, trembling on the sill as if the silence itself might decide what happened next.
~~~~~
The day was like any other. Snake rode at the head of the procession, polished boots, jewelled rings flashing as if the sun itself owed him attention.
I rode beside him, straight backed and silent, a fixture rather than a person.
He liked it that way. I was just another shiny thing for him to show off.
Some people cheered. Some spat curses under their breath. Half of the Thorns didn’t bother to look at us at all.
Snake loved all of it.
“Look at them,” he said, sneering as we passed rows of putrid smelling food stalls. “Half of them hate me. Half of them want to be me.” His hand brushed my thigh possessively. “Either way, they’re all looking at me.”
I said nothing.
He leaned towards me. “Smile, Sapphire. Makes them jealous of what I own.”
His cold, grey stare bore through me. I wanted to implode on the spot, but that was impossible; I feigned a smile just to shut him up.
The marketplace ahead stirred suddenly. There were raised voices, bodies shifting, a ripple of movement spreading like water over stone. Snake reined his horse to a halt, irritation evident on his face by the way his brow creased and his top lip curled.
“What is it now?” he snapped.
I took a moment to breathe while he was preoccupied by the brawl of Thorns up ahead. That’s when I felt it. A brush against my boot. Light. Intentional.
My breath caught, but I didn’t react. I couldn’t. I glanced down just in time to see a hooded figure slipping away into the crowd, already swallowed by movement and noise.
I kept my face still.
Slowly, carefully—while Snake was still distracted—I shifted my weight and reached down into my boot. My fingers closed around something thin. Folded. It was paper.
My pulse thundered, but slowly pulled it from my boot anyway. The commotion ahead continued, so I took the opportunity while Snake was distracted to quickly unfold the note and glance at it. Inside was another folded piece of paper, but it was a few shades darker in colour. Ashink paper.
My hand shook as I glanced at the letters sprawled over the note.
I know you think the dark is all you deserve, but don’t mistake surviving Oscuro for belonging to it like I have.
You have a way out. You always did. Tell Nik where you are.
Choose the light, Sapphire, before this place teaches you to forget it. - Abby
My breath caught as I snapped my head towards the cloaked figure disappearing into the crowd.
Abby. She’d found her way to me. I glanced towards Snake, he was still preoccupied, so I shoved the papers safely back into my boot leg.
Abby’s words shot straight into my heart, but it wasn’t pain I felt from the impact.
It was a warmth I’d only ever felt when surrounded by her, Lightners, and . . . Nik.
I shoved the sob that threatened to spill from my lips so far down it knotted in my chest. If I was to have time to think, to figure out what to do, I needed to continue to play the part of Sapphire. Blythe would have to wait.
Snake clicked his tongue impatiently as the commotion settled, never once glancing my way. “Honestly,” he muttered. “This city is full of fucking miscreants.”
He spurred his horse forwards, his long white hair slapping against his back as he trotted along, and the procession resumed like nothing had happened.
I rode beside him once again, heart racing, and the paper hidden against my skin.
~~~~~
Snake was in one of his moods. Ever since we’d returned to the castle, he’d been on edge. Probably because since then the bell for Lucius had rung three times. I understood now why it enraged him. Each bell was proof of something he couldn’t own. Couldn’t buy. Couldn’t force.
Three people had chosen the light and he hated it.
I could feel him silently fuming beside me as we marched through the castle halls. He was quiet. The worst kind of quiet—-the one that meant I would pay for his fury behind closed doors.
The extra guards he’d placed outside his room didn’t even dare to look up as we approached.
I forced my expression into something pleasant. Something empty. Something Sapphire would do.
The moment his bedroom door slammed shut behind us, I was shoved onto the bed.
“Take your fucking clothes off,” Snake hissed, as he began to tear at his own.
I knew better than to hesitate. All I had to do was play the part, and afterwards, he would leave me alone. Then I could look at Abby’s note again.
Black silk fabric pooled at my feet, and I’d barely taken a breath when he pushed me forwards onto the bed. My hands slapped down on the covers, face buried in the satin threads as I braced myself for the pain.
When his cock found my warmth, rough and impatient, my mind slipped away without resistance. It had learned how to do that a long time ago. The room blurred. The walls became a distant cage. I focussed on breathing, on staying very still inside myself.
This is just another time, I whispered to Sapphire. Just another body. Just another man.
But the thought didn’t hold. Blythe wouldn’t let it. I can’t keep doing this.
The realisation arrived sudden and sharp, cutting through the numbness like a blade. I’d survived worse—I knew that—but survival wasn’t the same thing as living. It wasn’t even the same thing as endurance anymore. It was just . . . delay.
Abby’s note that was still tucked securely in my boot—which was now half shoved under the bed—flickered through my mind. The ashink paper was like a lone candle flickering bright against the dark.
Choose the light.
Snake’s touch dragged me back into my body just enough to hurt, and with it came memories. Unwanted, visceral. Kavish’s hands. Rhodes' breath. The same entitlement. The same certainty that I was something to be taken, not seen.
I hated them.
I hated all of them.
A cry slipped past my lips as Snake’s hips rocked into me with such force that my teeth rattled.
“That’s it, cry for him,” Snake seethed, the venom in his voice stinging up my spine. “Cry for the freedom you will never have . . . the one you threw away.”
I refused to respond to the bait. So I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for something—fear, pain, anything—but there was nothing but emptiness.
Snake’s hands did nothing to me. They passed over skin that felt like it belonged to someone else, eliciting no response past the practised compliance my body had learned to offer.
I might as well have been stone.
Snakes hand threaded through my hair, fisting it before yanking my head backwards. I squeezed my eyes shut as he leaned down to brush his lips on my ear. “Did he fuck you gently like the weak specimen he is? Or was he rough like the warrior he claims to be?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out his words, and as I did, all thoughts of Nik came crashing into my mind like a wound reopening.