HE WAS THE ONE
336 Words
CHAPTER 9: HE WAS THE ONE
Lithia woke up on the floor.
Her whole body hurt. Her head was pounding.
The last thing she remembered was gold light and Veyron’s knife.
She expected cold.
Expected broken glass.
Expected blood.
She got none of it.
The room wasn’t cold anymore.
The window was fixed.
The hole in the ceiling was patched.
The floor was swept.
Her cot was made.
And over her was a blanket.
Thick. Warm. It didn’t smell like mildew.
It smelled like rain. And cold.
Lithia sat up slowly.
Her hand wasn’t cut.
No pain.
No Veyron.
"...Drayk," she whispered.
The room was empty.
No shadows in the corner.
No black shirt.
No red eyes watching her.
He was gone.
And for a second her chest twisted.
Did he leave? Was he okay? Did Veyron—
Then she looked around.
The clean floor. The fixed wall. The blanket.
No one else would do this.
No one else *could* do this. Not in one night.
A small, shaky smile pulled at her lips.
"He was the one," she said to the empty room.
It wasn’t a question.
From upstairs, footsteps. Lady Veyra was awake.
Lithia scrambled up. Tucked the blanket around her shoulders.
She wasn’t scared. Not today.
The door opened.
Veyra looked around. At the clean room. The patched ceiling. The new blanket.
Her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"
Lithia kept her eyes down. "I... cleaned. All night. I’m sorry for the mess."
Veyra stared. Then she sniffed. "Hmph. About time."
She left.
Lithia let out the breath she’d been holding.
She sat back on the cot. Pulled the blanket tighter.
It was still warm.
"I’ll always come back," he’d promised.
She believed him.
That night she didn’t sit by the window.
She slept.
For the first time in months, she slept without a knife under her pillow.
And when she dreamed, it was of rain.
And of red eyes in the dark, watching over her.
He was the one.
**TO BE CONTINUED...**
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