CHAPTER 77: CHAPTER 76: SAME BEAST AS RHYDRIC.

The Phantom Four.

They stood around the massive room like a silent storm, their eyes fixed on her. The air was thick with tension, heavy enough to choke her.

Why are they staring at her like that?

Eryx was the first her gaze met. For once, he wasn’t grinning. There was no teasing smirk, no playful wink. His expression was blank, unreadable, too still for the man who always carried laughter in his eyes.

And strangely... she missed it.

She missed his stupid grin. His annoying charm. The way he’d make a joke just to get a rise out of her.

Then her gaze moved to Theo. His expression is even worse

He leaned against the far wall, arms folded, his usual cold replaced with something sharper. His expression was cold, detached, but his eyes, his eyes burned like restrained fury, like he was trying not to say something that could set the whole room ablaze.

Her breath hitched.

Slowly, she turned again, her gaze finding Azrael.

He was the quiet one. Always the calm, collected voice when things spiraled. But now... now he looked anything but calm. His eyes were shadowed, his jaw tight.

And beneath that mask of composure, she saw it, the flicker of disappointment. The kind that wasn’t aimed at her, but at himself.

Like he blamed himself for something he couldn’t stop.

Her throat tightened.

Suddenly, she wanted him to smile. To tell her to unbraid her hair like he always did. To say something stupid, something kind anything to chase away the silence pressing down on her chest.

But he didn’t.

None of them did.

And then... her eyes met his.

Rhydric.

Her heart stumbled.

He was standing closest to her, not purposely, just the position he chose to stay. His hair was slightly disheveled, his shirt half-unbuttoned, revealing the faint trace of a scar that ran down his collarbone. His eyes no longer gold, but their usual stormy grey, watched her like she was the only thing in the room.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her chest tightened.

Her body began to tremble again.

And the fear she thought she had gotten out of her head for a while, came clawing its way up her throat.

The room felt smaller by the second.

The walls closing in.

Her chest constricting.

None of them spoke. Not Eryx, not Theo, not Azrael. Even Rhydric, who looked like he wanted to say something anything, didn’t.

The silence was unbearable.

Athena’s trembling fingers clutched the edge of the sheet, knuckles white. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Just short, shaky breaths.

And when her eyes finally met Rhydric’s again, all she could see was the monster.

The flash of gold.

The claws dripping red.

And yet the part that terrified her most... was how her heart still ached for him, silently.

Athena’s heartbeat thundered in her chest. There are too many eyes on her, too many questions in the air she wasn’t ready to ask.

She couldn’t stay here.

Not with them staring at her like that. Not with him standing there, still and silent, as if nothing had happened.

Her breathing hitched. She swung her legs off the bed, her movements sharp but unsteady. The floor tilted beneath her feet, the sudden rush of dizziness forcing her to grab the bedpost for balance.

"I need to leave," she muttered, her voice trembling, though she tried to sound firm.

No one moved.

She started walking toward the door anyway, her bare feet padding against the polished floor, the hem of the oversized shirt brushing her thighs. Her pulse beat fast as if every moment with them made it harder to breathe.

But before she could reach the door, a tall shadow moved into her path.

Eryx.

He stood there, blocking the exit with his broad frame, his expression unreadable gone was the charming grin, the playful gleam in his eyes. What replaced it was cold steel.

"Get back on the bed," he said.

His tone was low, firm and commanding. He wasn’t making a request, but a demand.

Athena froze, blinking at him in disbelief. Her brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I said get back on the bed."

What the fuck was that? Where the hell was all this coming from? Eryx ordering her, Is he drunk?

Her stomach twisted at the sound of it, the authority in his voice, the distance. This wasn’t Eryx, the one who winked and teased and smirked through chaos. This was someone else. Someone dangerous beneath the calm.

Her lips parted in shock, then pulled into a scowl. "What is wrong with you?" she snapped, trying to push past him.

He didn’t budge.

When she tried again, his hand shot out quick, firm and his palm landed on her waist.

Athena gasped, startled, her back straightening at the sudden contact. His hand was large, his grip unyielding, fingers pressing hard into her skin as if daring her to move. He wasn’t even looking at her now, his jaw set tight, eyes locked somewhere over her shoulder.

The audacity of it made her blood boil.

She looked down at his hand, that strong, possessive hand holding her in place then back up at his face, her voice low and trembling with fury. "Let go of me."

He didn’t move.

Instead, he slowly turned his head, meeting her eyes at last. His gaze was sharp, dark something dangerous simmering beneath. "Get. Back. On. The. Bed."

Athena stared right back, refusing to look away. Her pulse pounded in her ears, her fear quickly replaced by anger. Who the hell did he think he was to talk to her like that?

"You have three seconds to move your hand," she said coldly, her tone laced with warning. "Or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life."

Eryx’s grip tightened. Just a fraction but she felt it.

Oh this guy is about to see madness.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening. It wasn’t enough to hurt, not fully, but it was enough to make her skin burn beneath his touch.

And he wasn’t even doing it out of dominance or malice, it was something else. Something raw and ugly simmering beneath the surface.

He hadn’t forgotten.

The way she’d smiled at that other guy. The way she’d hugged him. The laughter that wasn’t meant for him.

It shouldn’t have mattered but it did. It burned through him like acid, twisting his thoughts into something darker.

He wasn’t supposed to care. And yet, seeing her look at someone else like that had clawed something loose inside him something he didn’t want to name. Jealousy.

"Eryx, stop that," Azrael’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

He moved with calm precision, stepping between them. His expression was controlled, but his eyes held a flicker of irritation. A warning.

He reached out, pried Eryx’s hand off Athena’s waist, his grip firm but not harsh. "Enough," he said quietly, giving Eryx a pointed look that spoke volumes.

Eryx clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring slightly, but he didn’t resist. He took a step back, exhaling sharply, his gaze shifting away from Athena.

He had no idea why he was overreacting.

Azrael guided her gently back, his touch the exact opposite to Eryx."You’re okay," he said softly, though his eyes briefly darted to Eryx, sharp and disapproving.

Athena, still trembling, glared at Eryx one last time. The coldness in his face, the handprint she could still feel burning on her skin, it made her chest tighten with something she couldn’t name.

Then she turned to Azrael, her breathing uneven but her chin lifted. "I don’t need anyone to order me around," she said, her voice quiet but fierce.

Azrael’s gaze softened. "No one’s ordering you," he murmured, though his jaw flexed as if keeping back a thousand other things.

And for the first time since she woke up, Athena realized this wasn’t just fear or confusion.

There was something wrong. Something dark threading beneath all of them.

Something that started the moment Rhydric killed that wolf.

Her throat went dry as she glanced around at each of them. "Do you..." she hesitated, her voice uneven. "Do you have something to say? Because if not, I’m leaving."

The words came out sharper than she intended, but she didn’t care. Her nerves were stretched thin, and she could still see flashes of that bloody heart whenever she blinked.

Azrael stepped forward calmly, his expression unreadable. "Athena," he said softly, "just calm down, okay?"

He reached for her hand slowly, carefully as if she were made of glass. Then he guided her back toward the bed.

And despite herself, she followed.

Azrael was the only thing that made sense right now. His voice, his composure, his quiet presence, it grounded her when everything else felt like a nightmare.

Still, something deep inside whispered that he wasn’t safe either.

That under that gentle face and smooth tone was the same darkness she saw in Rhydric.

The same beast.