chapter 14
2000 Words
Chapter 14– The Shadow in His Eyes
The applause from the masquerade still echoed in the hall, but the sound was hollow now, drowned out by the single, fragile voice that had spoken her name.
“Isabella…”
Her chest tightened.
Ethan.
He stood at the edge of the dais, pale and trembling, his body gaunt as if every drop of strength had been stolen. His shirt clung to his frame, sweat dampening the fabric. His lips were cracked, his breath shallow.
But it wasn’t the weakness that froze her—it was his eyes.
They glowed faintly, threaded with black smoke that writhed like serpents under the surface, coiling in unnatural patterns. It was like watching ink drip into clear water, consuming what had once been pure.
Adrian surged forward, his sword flashing as he positioned himself between Isabella and her childhood friend. His voice was sharp, commanding.
“Stay back.”
Ethan staggered forward anyway. His hand reached out—not steady, not sure—but desperate. “It’s me. I… I’m still me.”
Isabella’s throat closed. She wanted to run to him, to catch him before he fell. But her feet felt glued to the stone floor, terror chaining her.
Damian remained utterly still on the dais, his expression unreadable save for the faintest curve of his lips. He didn’t have to move. His silence spoke volumes. This was his doing.
“Ethan,” Isabella whispered, finally breaking her paralysis. She took one trembling step forward, then another, her skirts brushing the stone. “I’m here.”
Ethan’s head snapped toward her voice. His expression—oh gods, it was fractured, torn between recognition and something darker. His lips parted in relief, but the shadows in his eyes flared, twisting his features into something almost unrecognizable.
“He’s inside me,” Ethan choked out, his voice breaking. His hand clawed at his chest as if he could tear the corruption free. “Every thought, every memory—he’s there.” His gaze locked onto Damian, fury flashing through the corruption. “You did this to me!”
Gasps rippled through the masked crowd, their jeweled faces turning, whispers darting like knives in the air.
Damian stepped down from the dais with deliberate slowness, every inch of him composed, his dark coat flowing like liquid shadow. “Correction,” he said smoothly. “You did this to yourself. The bargain was struck when your beloved Isabella begged for your life. You live because of her plea.”
Isabella’s breath caught as if he’d struck her. The room spun, her vision blurring with guilt.
“No…”
Adrian turned, fury etched in every line of his face. “You monster. You bound him without choice!”
Damian’s gaze flicked to Adrian with cool disdain. “Every chain begins with a choice. Isabella chose his survival. Ethan chose to accept it. Do not pretend otherwise.”
The words landed like stones in her chest. The mark on her wrist pulsed, a cruel reminder of the truth.
Ethan’s body convulsed suddenly, his knees buckling. Adrian caught him before he collapsed completely, but the effort nearly pulled them both down. Ethan’s eyes rolled back, the shadows writhing violently in their depths. His voice split into two tones—his own and something darker that echoed beneath it.
“She’s mine…” the shadow-voice hissed. Ethan’s mouth moved, but the words weren’t his. His body shook with the strain. “She belongs to me.”
The room erupted in chaos. Guests screamed, some fleeing toward the doors, others clutching their masks as though they might hide from the terror. The music ceased entirely, leaving only the sound of Ethan’s broken cries.
“Isabella!” Ethan’s true voice surged forward, desperate, drowning for air. His eyes found hers again, wet with tears that cut through the shadow. “Don’t let him—”
But then he convulsed, his back arching, his scream splitting the hall.
Isabella’s hands flew to her mouth, her heart clawing against her ribs. “Stop it! Please!”
Damian finally moved, his hand raising slightly, and the shadows in Ethan’s body seemed to pause, quivering as if awaiting command. His voice rolled through the chamber, deep and calm.
“This is the cost of your mercy, dove. Life never comes freely. Not in my world.”
Her vision blurred with tears. Her friend—her childhood companion who had once sworn to protect her—was writhing under the weight of a bargain she had made.
Adrian lifted Ethan in his arms, his own strength straining under the corruption burning through his friend’s veins. He turned on Damian, his voice hoarse with fury.
“You’ll pay for this.”
Damian’s smile was cold, merciless. “You still don’t understand. You’re already paying.”
Lightning flared outside, thunder crashing so loud the hall itself seemed to shudder. The storm answered him, its power tethered to his will.
Isabella’s body trembled, torn between running to Ethan, clinging to Adrian’s protection, or surrendering to Damian’s dark certainty.
Her heart screamed one truth she could not deny—she had never been more trapped.
And as Ethan’s scream echoed in her ears, she knew this masquerade was never meant to dazzle her. It was meant to break her.
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The masquerade was no longer a dance of beauty and deception. It was collapsing.
Silken gowns rustled like frightened birds as guests stumbled through shattered corridors, their jeweled masks discarded on the ground like broken faces. The storm outside hurled sheets of rain against the tall windows, thunder shaking the chandeliers until crystals rained down with sharp clinks across the marble floor.
Where moments ago laughter and violins had swirled, now screams laced the air.
Isabella’s breath came fast. Her hands trembled as she held Ethan’s arm, trying to steady him, but his body convulsed as though invisible chains were tearing at his soul. His skin looked wrong—veins darkening with shadows that pulsed like poison. His eyes flashed with unnatural light, half human, half something else.
“Hold him—!” Adrian’s voice cracked as he pinned Ethan’s other arm down. His chest heaved, every line of his body carved with desperate focus. “Don’t let him break free!”
But Ethan was stronger than both of them. A guttural growl ripped from his throat, his body arching with violent spasms. Shadows clawed at his skin like living smoke, whispering in a dozen voices that made Isabella’s blood run cold.
“Get back, Isabella!” Adrian barked when Ethan jerked upward, teeth bared, reaching toward her throat.
But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. “No—he’s still in there, Adrian!” she cried, clutching Ethan’s shaking face with both hands. “Ethan, look at me—please, stay with me!”
For a flicker of a second, his wild eyes softened, as though he recognized her voice. His lips parted—then his expression twisted into something feral, and his hands shot out, claws forming from his fingers, aiming straight at her chest.
Adrian yanked her back just in time. They both stumbled, slamming into the side of a toppled table. Shards of glass bit into Isabella’s palms, but she barely felt it. Her heart was pounding too hard, every beat screaming he’s slipping away.
And then—
A shadow peeled away from the chaos, stepping into the broken glow of chandeliers.
Damian.
His presence was fire and ice all at once—his black coat untouched by the storm that tore through the hall, his silver mask discarded, revealing sharp features carved with cruel beauty. His eyes—those impossible, molten-gold eyes—locked on Isabella as though the world itself was a stage built only for her.
He did not rush. He did not shout. His steps were deliberate, calm, as though the chaos bent itself around him.
“You can’t hold him,” Damian’s voice cut through the screams like a blade, low and resonant. “Ethan is being consumed. His soul was already fractured. Without me, he will burn alive from the inside until there is nothing left.”
“Stay away from him!” Adrian snarled, his body shielding Isabella instinctively. His sword flashed in his hand, gleaming with the last of the hall’s light.
Damian barely looked at him. His gaze never left Isabella.
“I can save him,” he said simply.
Isabella’s chest tightened. “Save him—how?”
Damian tilted his head, and the storm outside seemed to roar louder, as if echoing his answer. “A new bargain.”
Her blood froze.
“No—” Adrian spat. “Don’t you dare. You’ve already cursed her once. You won’t touch her again.”
But Damian’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “This isn’t about touching. It’s about loyalty.” He stepped closer, the air warping with heat around him. “I can pull the corruption out of him. Bind the voices. But only if you give me what I want.”
“And what do you want?” Isabella whispered, though some part of her already knew.
His eyes burned. “Your allegiance. Not your soul—not yet. But your loyalty. To me, and no one else.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. Her pulse skittered. Loyalty—such a simple word, yet it felt heavier than chains.
Adrian’s fury exploded. “Over my dead body.” He surged forward, sword raised. But Damian’s hand flicked lazily, and with a rush of invisible force, Adrian was slammed into a marble column, the air knocked from his lungs.
“Adrian!” Isabella cried out, her hands reaching toward him—but Ethan thrashed violently, dragging her back into focus. His screams were no longer human. His body contorted unnaturally, his chest heaving as shadows poured from his mouth like smoke.
He was dying.
Damian stood there, watching her. Waiting.
“Choose,” he murmured. “Him… or your freedom.”
Tears stung Isabella’s eyes. She looked at Ethan’s twisted face, the boy she had once laughed with, cried with, trusted. She looked at Adrian, struggling to rise, his eyes wild with desperation.
And then she looked at Damian—calm, assured, powerful. The very thing she feared most.
But deep inside her chest, beneath the fear, something dangerous flickered. Something she hadn’t wanted to name. Because when Damian looked at her with that burning gaze, her heart didn’t only tremble—it ached.
Why?
Why did part of her want to step closer? Why did part of her crave the fire he carried, the promise of power, of surrender?
She swallowed hard, her voice breaking. “If I do this—if I give you what you want—will Ethan live?”
Damian’s smile was slow, triumphant. “Yes.”
Her hand shook. The storm howled. Adrian’s voice cracked behind her: “Isabella—don’t! Don’t you even think about it!”
But Ethan screamed again, his body convulsing violently. His skin blistered with dark veins, his cries echoing with voices not his own.
She broke. “Do it!” she screamed, tears streaking her cheeks. “Save him—please!”
Damian’s eyes glowed brighter, satisfaction curling at the edge of his mouth. He lifted his hand, fire sparking across his fingertips.
But in that instant—Adrian looked at Isabella.
And what he saw destroyed him.
It wasn’t just her plea. It wasn’t just her desperation. It was the way her eyes—red-rimmed and wet with tears—still lingered on Damian. Not with hatred. Not with rejection. But with something softer. Something forbidden.
A flicker of longing.
Adrian’s chest caved in. His hand slipped from his sword, his world crumbling. The woman he had vowed to protect, the woman he would bleed for, was staring at the monster like he wasn’t a monster at all.
And in that moment, everything cracked.
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- Writer
