CHAPTER 140: FREEDOM

Zyren pulled her closer, even as Aira instinctively tried to wiggle her way out of his grip—but he didn’t allow it.

His arms, firm and unwavering, held her fast against him, his presence overwhelming and commanding. His red eyes, glowing faintly like smoldering embers in the shadows, fixed on her face. Their intensity made her nervous, like she was being examined from the inside out. She could barely keep her breathing steady, and the closeness between them only made her heart thump harder—wild, frantic, like it was trying to escape the cage of her ribs.

Then he spoke again, his voice smooth and sharp, slicing through the silence like a whisper from a dream you didn’t want to remember.

"Are you sure?" he asked, watching her intently. "There’s nothing you want from me?"

Aira’s eyes flicked away, unable to hold his gaze. Her body tensed beneath his hold, and she shook her head with all the confidence she could muster.

"No! I need—"

But she didn’t finish. She cut off suddenly, freezing in place. Her mouth hung open just slightly, her eyes unfocused for a breathless moment, almost as if a thought—an idea—had slammed into her like a wave she wasn’t expecting.

Zyren noticed instantly. His lips curved upward into a slow, knowing smile, a sly, triumphant look gleaming in his eyes. He leaned in just slightly, his face now barely inches from hers.

"You want something," he said softly, the words smooth and seductive.

But the way he said them...

It wasn’t soft in the way a lover might whisper into your ear.

No. It was the kind of soft that could make your skin crawl. Like a devil tempting a soul on the edge of damnation. A voice that dragged promises from the shadows with honeyed poison, sweet and deadly.

"Go ahead," he murmured, his breath brushing against her cheek. His hands tightened around her waist—not painfully, but with just enough force that Aira had no choice but to look at him.

The tension between them thickened like smoke, clinging to her skin, making it harder to breathe.

This time, she didn’t resist. Her thoughts raced. Her mind screamed at her to stop, but something deeper—a small, fragile part of her—refused to retreat.

She raised her gaze and met his eyes.

A silent conversation passed between them. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t even blink. He simply waited. Watching her. Studying her like he already knew what she was about to say, but was patient enough to let her dig her own grave.

Her heart pounded against her chest like a war drum. Her hands trembled faintly at her sides, hidden by his grip, and her lips parted as if her lungs had forgotten how to form words.

She didn’t speak at first.

She hesitated.

She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, feel the tight coil of fear—and something else—twisting in her stomach. Her voice came out soft, unsure, and broken.

"I—I want..."

She gasped. The words caught in her throat like a stone. She had to force them out, coughing them up like they came from the deepest part of her soul.

"...freedom."

The silence that followed was deafening.

It was as though the air itself had been sucked out of the room. Like everything had frozen—the world, time, breath itself—waiting to see what would happen next.

The sly smile on Zyren’s face vanished. Instantly. Like it had never been there at all.

His expression shifted. Hardened. His jaw tightened, and his eyes—once dancing with amusement—darkened into something unreadable. Dangerous.

His gaze burrowed into Aira’s own, sharp and unrelenting, and she felt her blood turn to ice in her veins. She knew. She didn’t need him to say anything. She had done something wrong.

Something very, very wrong.

Her heart was pounding louder than before, beating so violently it was almost painful. Her breathing hitched. Her shoulders drew in like she could somehow make herself smaller. Less noticeable.

But it was far too late for that.

Zyren’s voice came slowly. Deliberate. Each word laced with a kind of quiet fury that didn’t need to be shouted to be heard.

"Freedom?" he repeated, tilting his head just slightly. "What does that mean?"

His tone sent a jolt of fear through her—sharp and cold. She opened her mouth, trembling as she rushed to explain herself, tripping over her words.

"I want to live with my sister! As a normal person and not as a—"

"Freedom," Zyren interrupted her with a whisper. But it wasn’t soft this time. It was laced with something venomous—contempt, perhaps. Or disappointment.

The word tasted like poison in his mouth.

"You belong to me," he said, his voice low and firm. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing like he couldn’t even comprehend why she would think otherwise.

"I thought that’s something we’d both agreed on."

Aira’s throat felt dry. She wanted to speak, to argue, to deny—but she couldn’t. Her body betrayed her, trembling subtly as she lowered her eyes to the ground in shame, in fear.

Zyren’s grip tightened around her waist, harsher than before. Not enough to bruise—but enough to remind her she wasn’t going anywhere.

"There is no world where I’m in," he said coldly, "where you’d ever be free of me."

His words hit her like a slap. And yet he spoke them so smoothly, so calmly, it made the chill they carried even more terrifying. They weren’t a threat.

They were a promise.

Her spine stiffened at the realization. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. Her eyes burned, but she didn’t cry. She couldn’t afford to—not in front of him.

Just when she thought he might lash out, might say more, Zyren let her go.

Smoothly. Casually. As if the storm inside him had passed and he was done with her for now.

He stepped back slightly, then turned—just enough to glance over his shoulder—and beckoned for her to follow.

His voice was light, devoid of irritation or emotion, almost as if their entire exchange hadn’t happened.

"Come," he said. "Let’s head to the food hall. It’s time for lunch."

And just like that, the moment was over.

But Aira didn’t dare disobey.

Not when her legs still shook beneath her. Not when her heart still thundered in her chest. Not when her freedom had just been tossed aside like it was nothing more than a foolish, childish dream.

Her eyes lingered on his back as she followed, silent and numb, her chest still tight with the ache of everything she couldn’t say.