CHAPTER 42: HEART BURN 1

CIAN

I took the stairs two at a time. The walls blurred past me, but it still did not feel fast enough. My study was on the second floor. The gardens were at ground level. The distance stretched, every step heavier than the last. Through the bond, I felt her emotions spiraling. That same hollowness she carried earlier had cracked wide open now, spreading like a shadow consuming everything in its reach.

By the time I reached the garden entrance, guards had gathered, their postures stiff and unsure.

Fia was on her knees in the grass. Her phone lay forgotten beside her. One hand clutched her stomach like she could physically hold herself together if she just pressed hard enough. Her whole body shook as if she’d been struck by something that shattered her from the inside out.

The guards hovered, uncertain. A few had reached out, but none dared touch her. An omega servant wrung her hands and looked around frantically for someone to tell her what to do.

"Move." My voice cut through the silence.

They obeyed instantly, parting without hesitation, creating space for me to pass through.

I crossed the remaining distance and knelt in front of her. She flinched at the sound of my boots brushing the grass. Her eyes were wide, horrified, rimmed with tears she hadn’t yet let fall.

I reached out and placed a hand gently on her head. Her hair was warm beneath my palm, still kissed by the sun.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, even though I already felt the storm thrashing in her chest.

She didn’t look up. Her gaze stayed locked on the ground. Her breathing came in short, stifled gasps.

"They killed him," she whispered.

It was barely a sound. Barely a breath.

"Who?"

"Milo." Her voice cracked on the name. "They killed Milo."

I noticed her phone lying in the grass, screen facing down. Curious, I picked it up and tapped the display. The lock screen lit up, familiar and still. I swiped, half-expecting a barrage of missed calls, pictures or alarming messages.

But there was nothing. Just Hazel’s quiet profile staring back at me. The inbox was empty, the call log blank.

"There’s nothing here."

Fia’s head snapped up. Her eyes were red. Wild. She looked at the phone in my hand like it had betrayed her.

"It was a view once... Forget it...Of course you don’t believe me." She laughed but there was no humor in it. Just bitterness. "Of course."

She snatched the phone from my hand and pushed herself up, but her legs buckled beneath her. She caught the fountain edge with a shaky grip, steadied herself, then tried to move away again. The stubborn set of her jaw told me she was determined to ignore the pain, but the angry red welts across her skin said otherwise.

It gave me an excuse to stay close. I stepped forward, closing the distance in a few strides, and caught her wrist before she could escape. She went completely still at the touch, rigid and silent.

"Your welts need more medicine," I said quietly.

"I don’t care."

"I do."

I didn’t raise my voice. I simply pulled her back toward me, not roughly, but with enough strength that resistance was useless. "You’re coming with me."

She twisted, trying to wrench her arm free, but I held on, patient. Her efforts were more frantic than forceful, and I didn’t stop walking. Across the gardens, where evening shadows were beginning to grow long. Through the stone archway, back into the dim corridor where servants hurried to clear a path without meeting our eyes. Up the stairs, each step making her breathing grow uneven.

I opened the Luna suite door and guided her inside. She still clawed at my grip, but it was weaker now. Like the strength it took to fight was draining out of her, drop by drop, leaving nothing but exhaustion in its place.

The medical supplies were still on the vanity where she’d probably left them this morning. I walked Fia over to the chair and pushed her down into it. She sat but crossed her arms over her chest. Defensive.

I grabbed the cream and her wrist again. This time she let me extend her arm without fighting.

The welts looked better than they had this morning. The redness had faded some. But they were still raised. Still angry looking. I unscrewed the cap on the cream and started applying it in smooth circular motions.

Fia watched me work. Her jaw was tight. Her free hand was clenched in her lap.

"Assuming I did believe you," I said without looking up. "What did you see?"

She was quiet for so long I thought she wouldn’t answer.

Then she spoke.

"Hazel sent me a beheading."

My hand stilled for just a second before I continued spreading the cream.

"A what?"

"A photo." Her voice was flat now. Dead. "Of Milo’s head. On a platter. His eyes were still open."

I finished with one arm and reached for the other. She extended it without me having to ask.

"Milo was my mate."

The words hit me wrong. Made something uncomfortable twist in my chest. I ignored it. Goddess forbid I acknowledge what it was.

"He rejected me," Fia continued. "On the day I got trapped with you."

Trapped...

She’d called our bond a trap. Like I’d done this to her on purpose. Like I’d wanted any of this.

"I didn’t trap you." The words came out harder than I intended. "If anything, you trapped me."

Fia’s eyes snapped to mine. There was fire in them now. Some of that emptiness burning away.

"Is that what made you decide to steal Hazel’s place?" I asked. "Because of what Milo did?"

She scoffed and tried to pull her hand away but I held firm.

"Don’t." It was an order, and she knew not to push me.

"I thought Hazel absconded with my mate." Her voice was sharp now. Angry even. "I was convinced my pack was going to be punished when you found out. It would seem like a great disrespect. And you do have a reputation."