bChapter /bb206 /b

    Eryx POV

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    For a heartbeat, everything feels light, almost weightless. Then the cold sweeps in, sharp and merciless, and I’m swallowed by it. Darkness wraps around my ribs like chains. My chest burns, my head pounds, and something inside me twists hard enough to drag the breath from my lungs.

    The Hollowed Queen pulls back. I can feel it, her shadow retreating into the corners of my mind, leaving me in control again. But she never goes without leaving something behind. This time it’s

    worse. Hate, rage, and fury so thick it tastes like blood in my mouth.

    Topen my eyes slowly. My vision clears and the worldes back into focus. The

    flickering torchlight paints the room in shades of gold and shadow. My arms are still bound tight, the cuffs digging into my wrists, chains biting against my chest. I lift my head.

    My mother is there, standing close, tears sliding down her face. She presses her hand to her mouth as

    though she’s trying to smother her own sobs. “Eryxi,/ii” /ishe whispers, broken.

    How long this time? I look past her to the narrow window. The sky is ck, the moon high. Hours. I’ve

    lost hours.

    The realization makes something inside of me twist darker. The fury builds like a storm. My lips curl, and before I can stop myself, I spit the words at her. “You did this.”

    Her eyes widen, her tears spilling faster.

    “Stay backi,/ii” /imy father warns her, his voice harsh. “She’s still in him.”

    1 Iugh. The sound is low and bitter, scraping from my throat like ss. “No she isn’t. This is me.” I yank against the chains, the metal nging. “I just know the truth now. All of this. All this torture, all this suffering, it’s because of you!”

    “Eryx, please,” my mother cries, her voice trembling.

    “What?” I snarl, leaning forward as far as the chains allow. “Do you think crying will change anything? Do you think I care about your tears?” I bare my teeth, fury pounding hot in my chest. “You’re pathetic. Look at you. You brought her here. You called a witch family and weed her into our home, and this-“I m my bound fists against the arm of the chair, the sound echoing through the chamber. “This is the result!”

    The rage floods through me, unstoppable now. My muscles burn as I thrash harder against the restraints, the cuffs digging deep, the skin around my wrists tearing. I want to break free, to tear down

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    17:09 Tue, 26 Aug

    everything in front of me, to destroy the walls, the guards, anyone who dares toe near.

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    My mother stumbles back, sobbing. My father steps forward, his jaw tight, his eyes hard. “It isn’t you,” he says firmly. “That’s her twisting you, feeding you poison.”

    But the words only spark more fire inside me. “No! That’s you making excuses because you can’t admit it! You let this happen. You kept me here like an animal, chained, tortured, losing pieces of myself day after day, and for what? To y at being leaders? To pretend you have control when you’ve already lost everything?”

    The hate swells until it fills every corner of me, until I can’t breathe without choking on it. The Hollowed Queen is quiet, but she doesn’t need to speak. She’s left her poison inside me, and it’s rotting me from the inside out.

    I thrash again, harder this time, the chair groaning under the strain. The guards tense, ready to hold me if the chains break, but the fire in me only grows. My teeth grind until my jaw aches. My vision blurs at the edges.

    “I should tear this ce apart,” I growl. “I should burn it to the ground, burn you all with it, and then maybe you’d understand what it feels like to lose everything. Maybe then you’d see what you’ve

    done.

    My father’s expression doesn’t change, though I can see the flicker of pain in his eyes. He doesn’t move closer, doesn’t back down. He just stands there, steady, as if he can anchor me with his presence alone.

    But I don’t want to be anchored. I want to break. I want to rip the world apart with my bare hands and drown in the wreckage.

    The fury pulses inside me, stronger, darker. I know I’m losing control again, not to her this time, but to myself.

    And maybe that’s worse.

    “You’re our son. We love you,i” /imy mother whispers.

    Her voice grates against my skin like ws on stone. My head lowers, and my hands clench so tight around the arms of the chair that I hear the wood splinter.

    “Remember us, Eryx. Please.”

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    “Eryx,i” /ishe says again, her voice breaking as she drops to her knees in front of me. Her hands hover near mine but don’t touch, afraid of what I’ll do. “It’s fine. We’re here. You’re fine.”

    I raise my head slowly, and when my gaze meets hers, something cruel twists through me. My lips curl into a smirk I don’t recognize as my own. She stills.

    “You’re nothing but a whore,” I spit, my voice sharp as a de. My salivands across her cheek, and I don’t stop. “Pathetic. You call yourself a mother, but you’re nothing. And when I break out of these chains, I’m going to tear you apart.”

    The words hang in the air like poison.

    Then there’s impact. Something hard ms against my face, snapping my head ito /ithe side. My vision blurs for a second before clearing.

    “How dare you speak to your mother that wayi,/ii” /imy father–bellows, his voice shaking the chamber. He punched me?

    I freeze, my chest heaving as I turn my head back. My mother is still kneeling in front of me, her body trembling, tears streaking down her face.

    “I…” My throat tightens. My head drops forward. “I-”

    That was me. Not the Hollowed Queen. Not herugh or her venom. Those words came from my mouth, my own anger, my own hatred.

    My stomach lurches. My hands tremble against the chains.

    “Lock me awayi,/ii” /iI whisper.

    “No,” my mother snaps through her tears, her voice fierce,

    “You have to!” I roar, the sound raw, desperate. “Look at me! Look at what I just said, what I did. It’s not just her anymore, it’s me. It’s getting worse.” My voice breaks, and I m my fists against the chair. “Lock me away before I do something I can’te back from!”

    My father looks between us, his jaw set, his eyes filled with something I can’t read. He knows. He knows it’s true. He saw it just now. He knows what happens if my own twisted anger festers until I can’t tell the difference between her voice and mine.

    And I don’t know which terrifies me more, the Hollowed Queen inside of me.

    Or the part of me that’s starting to agree with her.

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