Chapter 12
He nodded again. “Waited for you to choose freedom on your own.”
I closed my eyes for a second. “My brother? Where is he?”
“He’s here,” Cassian said gently. “He’s safe. He asked about you the whole trip. Kept telling my men, ‘My sister’s not dead. She’s just tired.”
My chest cracked open again.
“He’s really here?”
“In the next room,” Cassian nodded. “Safe. Fed. Sleeping like a log.”
I didn’t cry out loud. Didn’t wail. But something inside me broke, in the softest way. Like glass cracking from the inside.
“I thought I lost him,” I said.
“You didn’t,” Cassian said. “You got him out. You saved him. And now you’re both here.”
I looked around the room again. The sea was still whispering through the windows. The sunlight was warm. For once, there were no chains. No footsteps outside my door. No cameras on the wall.
“I don’t know what comes next,” I admitted. “I don’t have a plan for surviving.”
Cassian stood up. “You don’t need a plan yet. You need to rest. The world’s still turning. But you? You’ve earned time to just breathe.”
He turned toward the door, but before he left, I said one more thing.
“Cassian.”
He looked back.
“Thank you. For showing up.”
He gave me a look I’d never forget. Calm. Strong. And a little sad. “I never left,” he said. And
then he walked out.
I lay back on the bed. Alive. Safe. Shaking. But not broken. And this time, I had a second
chance.
The next day while I was making tea for Aziel, Cassian cooked us breakfast. Something with eggs, herbs, and a kind of toast I didn’t recognize, but Aziel loved it and that was enough for me.
I was limping a little. Tried not to. But every step reminded me that my body was still healing–and not just from the surgery I gave myself.
Aziel noticed, of course. He always noticed. He tilted his head and asked gently, “Are you hurting again?”
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I smiled down at him. “No, baby. I just tripped a little when I was walking to the kitchen. It’s
nothing.”
He looked at me for a second longer, then smiled too. “Okay,” he said, and went back to nibbling on toast while humming under his breath.
Cassian didn’t say anything. But I could feel him watching me. He didn’t believe the lie, but he didn’t press either.
I was grateful for that.
THAT NIGHT, after Aziel fell asleep in the room across the hall, I locked myself in the bathroom and stepped under the shower. The water hit my skin and I winced.
I reached behind me. Touched it.
The whip scars on my back had opened again. Red. Angry. Swollen. And bleeding just enough to make the water run pink for a moment.
I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the cold tile. Didn’t cry. Didn’t even curse. Just stood there, breathing through it.
I’d gotten used to pain. It didn’t scare me anymore. It was the silence after it that haunted
me worse.
After the shower, I padded over to the mirror, twisted to look at the damage, then opened the drawer under the sink.
No bandages.
So I used tissue and duct tape. Pressed it down tight. Bit my tongue when it stung. And when I caught my own reflection trying not to wince, I smiled bitterly.
It wasn’t just a wound. It was a damn tattoo now. A signature burned into me. Margaret’s hate. Hakeem’s silence. My survival. All of it inked into flesh.
I pulled on a loose shirt and was about to turn off the light when I heard the door creak.
Cassian.
He walked in without knocking. Probably thought I was asleep or brushing my teeth. But his eyes landed on me the moment I froze, shirt still halfway over my head.
He saw it.
The blood. The torn tissue. The bruises that hadn’t faded yet.
His whole face went still.
“That’s not new,” he said, voice low but sharp.
I tugged the shirt down fast and tried to laugh it off. “It’s fine. Just a scratch. I heal fast.
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Always have.”
He didn’t smile. Didn’t look away.
“Harmony,” he said, stepping closer, “how long has that been infected?”
I looked down. “It’s… It’s not infected. It’s just sore. That’s different.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he said. “I saw the way you moved this morning. And that’s not from a damn trip in the hallway.”
I swallowed hard. “I didn’t want Aziel to worry.”
Cassian’s jaw clenched. He looked like he was about to say something harsh, but then he softened.
“Come with me. There’s something I need to show you.”
I followed him down a narrow staircase hidden behind the wine shelves in the villa. It led underground–cool, sterile, almost surgical. The walls were concrete, but the room opened into a clean, high–tech medical setup. Chrome tables. Monitors. Everything humming low like it belonged in some private military base.
“My father built this,” he said while snapping on gloves. “But I upgraded it after I left the grid. Spent two years studying field trauma, emergency medicine. It’s not just tech–it’s trust. You need both when you’re off the radar.”
I didn’t say anything.
He gestured to the padded table. “Lie down, Harmony. Let me treat that properly before it scars more than it already has.”
I hesitated. My fingers tugged at the hem of my shirt. My body was still sore, still burning from everything. But I laid down anyway.
He was careful. Quiet. Professional but kind.
“This isn’t just a scar,” he murmured while cleaning the edges of the reopened wound. “It’s a warzone. And your body’s been bleeding in silence too long.”
That line–warzone–it echoed in my ears like a curse. Because it was true. I flinched hard as he pressed sterile gauze to the wound.
“Easy,” he said gently. “I’m not him. You don’t have to brace yourself with me.”
That hit something in me. I almost broke. My eyes stung. My mouth opened but nothing
came out.
I just nodded.
Then the door creaked.
Aziel.
He stood there, small and barefoot, holding a toy soldier in one hand. His eyes went
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straight to my back. To the bandage. To the stains on the cloth.
“Did the bad man do that?” he asked, voice trembling.
I looked at him. My voice barely left my throat. “Yes, baby. But he’s never touching me again.”
Cassian walked over, bent down to Aziel’s level and said, “She’s healing now. She’s a
fighter, just like you. Let her rest, okay? Go play with the guards outside. They like your stories.”
Aziel gave me one last look. Then nodded and left.
When the door shut, I exhaled for real.
Cassian peeled off his gloves and left too. But before he did, I heard him whisper something to one of his men just outside the room.
“Get me full surveillance on Hakeem Masterson. Tap his people. His allies. Even his enemies. I want to know what makes him bleed.”
His voice dropped lower.
“She won’t be hunted forever. Not on my watch.”
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That night, I couldn’t sleep.
