Chapter 23
Jul 4, 2025
The cage was cold. Iron bars rusted at the base, the stone beneath me damp and stinking of rot. I curled into the corner, knees pulled to my chest, arms wrapped tight like I could hold myself together if I just pressed hard enough.
My dress was torn, still stained with blood. My cheek ached from where Valen had struck me earlier. Not for disobedience—but because he could. He always could.
Chains rattled outside. Then silence.
Then footsteps.
Not Valen’s. He had left hours ago, muttering something about a meeting with his generals. This was someone else—lighter, more deliberate. Like they weren’t afraid to be heard. Which meant they didn’t think I could do anything about it.
The door creaked open. I didn’t lift my head. Not until the guard tossed in a crust of bread and a tin cup of water. It landed with a dull clang.
“No talking today?” he muttered.
I didn’t answer. Didn’t blink.
He sighed. “Still playing mute. You’re lucky he even feeds you.”
I didn’t speak until he left, until the iron door groaned shut behind him and the lock slid into place.
Then I whispered, “Cassian.”
Just his name.
I said it like a prayer. Like maybe the bond could hear me even if he couldn’t.
But nothing stirred.
No warmth.
No pull.
Just silence.
I curled tighter, pressing my forehead to my knees. The air tasted like mildew and ash. My back throbbed where the whip had cracked skin. I’d stopped counting the lashes. What mattered wasn’t the pain—it was that I hadn’t screamed. Not once.
Valen wanted my voice broken. He hadn’t earned it.
Hours passed. Or maybe just minutes. Time folded in on itself in that place, warped by misery.
At one point, I heard voices above. Men shouting. Doors slamming. Then a different kind of silence—the heavy kind that settles when something important is being decided far away.
Something about that silence made my chest ache.
Cassian.
He had to know by now.
Or… maybe he didn’t.
Maybe they lied.
Maybe they told him I went willingly.
The thought struck like ice water.
Would he believe them?
Would he believe that I chose this?
I forced myself to sit up, breath shaking. “He wouldn’t,” I whispered. “He knows me.”
Still, the fear dug in deeper. If they showed him a scroll—if they signed something behind closed doors—he might think I agreed. Might think I left him.
Might think I stopped fighting.
“No,” I breathed. “Please. Don’t believe them.”
I pressed a hand to my chest.
The bond was still there. Barely.
Not warm. Not strong. Not like before.
It pulsed faintly, like a thread stretched too thin. Like it was holding on for dear life. Like it didn’t know which of us was further gone.
That terrified me more than anything Valen ever did.
What if Cassian thought I’d broken it?
What if he stopped looking?
What if this time… he gave up?
I crawled toward the bars, fingers scraping the stone. My wrists burned from the manacles, but I didn’t care.
“I’m here,” I whispered, not knowing if the bond could carry sound. “I didn’t leave you. I didn’t go back. They dragged me. Lied. Branded me like cattle.”
I blinked hard, refusing to cry. “You said I’d never be alone again.”
Then lower, “Don’t let them make you forget me.”
Somewhere far above, I felt something shift.
It wasn’t words. Not even emotion.
Just a snap in the thread. A tremor.
Like his name had reached him. Like my pain had brushed against his ribs.
I didn’t smile.
Because if Cassian knew—even a little—he would come.
They could lie. They could forge treaties and dress me in white and pretend I belonged to Valen again.
But the bond didn’t lie.
It just waited.
And I knew Cassian.
He wasn’t done.
