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Chapter 54 : Deal with the Dark
Last Updated:
2025-03-15 21:02:11
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“You are ours.”“You are ours.”No.A searing ache cracked through my skull, a fire behind my eyes. I gritted my teeth and shoved my way past the pressure in my chest, the static in my head.“I didn’t agree to anything,” I managed, hands shaking. “You said you would wait.”“And we have.”The voices swirled around me, soft as silk, snug as a noose.“But you are here now.”I drew in a gasp as another wave of power crashed through my body, every inch of me igniting with something old, something foreign — something that curled up into the deepest parts of my soul like it had always existed there.A memory surfaced, unbidden.A voice in my ear, my grandmother’s voice, the same words she had whispered before I was taken: You are a bridge, child. And bridges go both ways.I balled my hands into fists, willing my body to remain still against the pull. My heart was pounding in my ears, racing. Maxwell. The baby. I had made a choice. I had chosen. I wasn’t theirs.I wouldn’t be their bridge.I
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The estate seemed smaller than ever before. The walls that once felt so comforting now felt claustrophobic — a cage, rather than home. Each breath felt heavier than the rest, the weight of the truth pressing down on my chest.I sat on the nursery’s windowsill, one hand pressed against my belly. Outside, the wind rustled through the trees, bringing the smell of rain and something darker — something watching. My child shifted inside of me, a tiny reminder of the life I was fighting for.But the question still lingered in the air.The Old Ones were coming.And I was their key.I swallowed hard. How do you battle something that’s already within you?”I clenched my jaw. I couldn’t afford to break down now. I had too much to lose. My mother. My father. My friends. Maxwell. My child. I had battled too hard, suffered too much, to allow the Old Ones to take any of them.But in truth, I could still hear the voices. Waiting. Whispering.I was running out of time.The sound of Maxwell’s voice bro
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The moment the words left my lips, the silence in the room thickened. Maxwell didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He just stared at me, his golden eyes flickering with something I didn’t want to name.Fear.Not fear of the Old Ones.Not fear of the war waiting outside these walls.Fear of me.I wrapped my arms around myself, looking away. I couldn’t stand to see it. Not from him. Not when he had always been the one constant thing in my life, the one person I could always trust to see me—even when I couldn’t see myself.But now?Even he wasn’t sure who I was anymore.Maxwell exhaled sharply. “Lena…”I flinched. He rarely said my name like that—so hesitant, so careful.So unsure.He tried again, softer this time. “Lena, look at me.”I forced myself to meet his gaze.He studied me like he was searching for something—something familiar, something human.“Tell me what you mean,” he said quietly.I hesitated. “I don’t know how.”“Try.”I swallowed, my throat dry. “Ever since the ruins, ever since
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The moment the words left my lips—I’m still me—the air shifted. The weight in the room didn’t ease. If anything, it grew heavier, pressing against my ribs, curling at the edges of my mind.Because it was a lie.And Maxwell knew it.He didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t call me out on it. But I saw it in his golden eyes, in the way his fingers twitched where they were still wrapped around mine.He felt it.The way I had changed.The way something inside me wasn’t entirely mine anymore.But he still held on.And I didn’t know if that made him brave or foolish.---The war council had ended with no real conclusion, just more questions that none of us had answers for. Maxwell had barely let me out of his sight since then.Not that I blamed him.I wasn’t sure if I trusted myself either.I sat by the window in my room, staring out into the darkness beyond the estate grounds. The wind howled, but I wasn’t sure if it was just the wind anymore. There were voices out there, things moving in the
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The words hung in the air like an invisible noose.The door is already open.Maxwell still hadn’t moved. His hands were so tight on my arms that I wondered if he’d bruise me, and his golden eyes bored into mine as if looking for something — some evidence that I was still me.But we both knew the truth.I wasn’t sure anymore.He exhaled sharply. “Lena… what does that mean?”My head shook, my pulse still drumming from the dream. “I don’t know.”His jaw clenched. “You said you saw her. Yourself.”I swallowed hard. “It wasn’t just me, Max. It was something else. Something inside me. Watching. Waiting.”Silence stretched between us, heavy and stifling.Maxwell then muttered some under his breath while raking a hand through his hair. “This isn’t normal. This isn’t just — ” He caught himself, and took a harsh breath. “What if they’re inside you already, Lena?A shiver ran down my spine. “I think they are.”Maxwell tensed, his whole body snapping tight.The seconds ticked by too slowly, his g
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The decision hung like a blade in the air.I had said it out loud. I had admitted the truth I’d been avoiding. And now there was no going back.I was going to them.To the Old Ones.To negotiate.To survive.Maxwell was livid.Jameson was giving me the look like he wanted to pound his head against the wall.Soraya had gone utterly quiet, her fingers twitching like she was already starting to mentally work through potential protective spells.And my father—My father was simply observing me.Because he already knew.He knew before I did that this was coming.That this was the only way.Maxwell was the first to speak; his voice was dangerously calm.“No.”I inhaled. “Max—”“No,” he said again, moving forward, his golden eyes alight with unhidden rage. “We are not going to allow you to walk into their hands.”I squared my shoulders. “It’s not about permitting me to do anything. It’s happening.”His jaw clenched. “Like hell it is.”I exhaled slowly. “Max, we have no choice.”“There is alw
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The circle dimmed. The night resumed its breath.Maxwell appeared at the edge of the trees, his eyes wild with concern. He didn’t speak. Just waited.“I’m okay,” I said, voice hoarse.He walked up to me slowly. “You don’t look okay.”“No,” I said, leaning into his chest. “But I know what I’m doing now.”He held me for a long moment. Then asked, “And what’s that?”I looked toward the stars, toward the seal humming faintly in my chest.“I’m going to stop surviving,” I said. “And start building.”Maxwell didn't speak right away. He studied me like he was seeing something different—something unfamiliar but necessary. The kind of change you don't celebrate with cheers, but with silence, because you know it’s real.“Building what?” he asked finally.I let the question hang in the air for a moment. “Something that doesn’t depend on fear. On reaction. On waiting for the next attack. Something rooted in intention. In choice. We keep surviving crisis after crisis, and we forget to imagine what
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She stood there—older, wiser, with a weight in her gaze that I hadn’t yet earned but could already feel settling in my bones. She didn’t move like someone who wanted to be revered. She moved like someone who had been forged—bent, shaped, nearly broken—and survived because no one else knew how to carry what she carried.The silence between us stretched longer than it should have, but she didn’t rush me. That was something else I recognized in her—patience. Not passive, but deliberate. A discipline I hadn’t yet mastered.“I didn’t think I’d ever meet you,” I finally said.She gave a small smile. “You don’t. Not in the way you’re thinking. I’m not a memory or a ghost. I’m not even truly real. Just an echo from one potential. One of millions.”“And yet,” I said, stepping toward her, “you’re here.”“Because the seal responded,” she said. “It recognized your convergence. The self that faced grief, the self that faced guilt, the self that faced truth. And now it offers a glimpse of what’s wa
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We stood in the wake of that light, hearts pounding, silence clinging to the air like fog. The figure that had worn my face—my perfect mirror—was gone, but its presence lingered. Not just as memory. Not just as a threat. As residue. The ley lines around us had twisted, not fractured but reformed. Like the very pattern of reality had shifted to accommodate that presence.No one spoke for a while. Even Maxwell, always the first to break tense silences, had nothing. Maybe because there were no words big enough to contain what we’d seen.Finally, Nima said quietly, “It didn’t disappear. It just… stepped back.”I looked at her, not answering. Because she was right. That version of me hadn’t been defeated or banished. It had retreated. Like it had learned something. Like it was waiting.Barin exhaled hard, pacing. “That thing—— whatever it was—— it wasn’t just a projection. It carried intention. It believed what it said.”“And it felt,” Maxwell added, his voice low and rough. “That’s what s
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I didn’t speak on the walk back.Maxwell didn’t press, though I knew the silence was hard for him. Every footstep felt like I was dragging pieces of myself behind me—things I thought I had laid to rest long ago. But Clara’s face stayed with me, not like a ghost, but like a mirror I couldn’t look away from.I should’ve saved her. And the seal knew it.When we reached the edge of the circle, Elara and Barin were already waiting. Nima stood between them, worry creased deep into her young face.“What happened?” Elara asked.“She saw someone she lost,” Maxwell answered for me, his tone clipped.“Someone she couldn’t save,” I added, lifting my eyes. “They’re not just testing my strength. They’re measuring my regrets. How deeply I carry them. How much they shape me.”Barin crossed his arms. “You think that’s the point of these tests?”“No,” I said. “I think that’s the data. They’re collecting impressions—who we are when we’re alone with our worst truths.”“And if they don’t like what they se
