CURSED TO RISE

chapter 6

CHAPTER 6: THE WEIGHT OF FEAR

Keira's POV

The screams didn't stop.

I don't know when they started. I just know they won't stop. Not now. when the light is gone from my skin. when the walls aren't shaking anymore. Not even when everything goes quiet.

The screams are still there.

Inside my head.

Sharp and broken and human.

Each one hits my chest like a knife.

My hands won't stop shaking. I stare at them. They look the same as they always did. Small. Scarred. Thin. But they don't feel like mine anymore.

*These hands hurt people.*

*These hands crushed the room.*

*These hands burned him.*

I try to swallow but there's a lump in my throat that won't go away. Won't move. Won't leave me alone.

"I..." My voice breaks. "I didn't mean to."

Nobody answers.

The quiet is worse than the screams.

Ezra stands a few feet away. Just watch me. His right hand is bright red where I burned him. But he doesn't seem to care. He doesn't cry. He doesn't move away.

How is he doing that?

How can he look at me like that after what I did?

The window behind him is broken. Cold air comes through. The curtains move slow and soft, and with them comes the smell of smoke and blood.

Blood.

My stomach twists hard.

Marcus.

That girl's face flashes in my mind. The scared look. The blood.

*He's not going to make it.*

My feet move backward without me telling them to.

Then again.

Ezra sees. "Keira."

His voice is calm. Like he's talking to an animal that's scared.

"Don't."

"I don't want to hurt you again."

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

"I know you."

I can't move. Can't breathe. Can't think.

No one has ever known me. Not once. They know the girl. The cursed one. The servant. But me? Nobody knows me.

My chest hurts so bad.

Ezra stops close. Not too close. Just close enough. "I'm taking you to the healing wing."

My heart stops. "No..."

"You need to see what happened."

"I can't." My hands shake harder. "I can't look at them."

"You have to."

"I don't deserve

"I'll stay with you," he says, and there's something in his voice that makes me believe him.

The hallway feels longer than I remember.

Maybe it always was. Maybe I just never noticed because I spent years looking down. At my feet. On the floor. Not seeing anyone. Not being seen.

Now every step feels heavy. Like I'm walking through water.

Ezra walks next to me. Close but not trapped close. He doesn't rush me. He doesn't tell me to be brave. He just walks.

We turn the corner.

Everything stops.

The servants with baskets freeze.

The warriors stop talking mid-word.

The kids playing near the courtyard go silent.

All of them look at me.

My heart jumps.

This isn't like before. Before they laughed at me. Whispered. Sometimes shoved me like I wasn't worth seeing.

Now nobody laughs.

A little boy stares at my hands. Then he runs behind his mother's clothes. She pulls him away fast. Like I'm sick. Like touching me will hurt him.

I look down.

The quiet hurts more than words ever did. When they hated me, at least I was real to them. Now I'm something they can't even look at.

"They're afraid," I say. My voice sounds small.

"They don't understand."

"Neither do I."

We walk deeper. The smell gets stronger. Herbs. Smoke. Blood.

The healing wing.

My feet stop on their own. I can't make them move. "I can't do this."

"You can."

"I don't deserve to go in there."

"If you don't go, the guilt will eat you alive."

He's right. I hate that he's right.

We walk in.

The room is quiet. Soft voices move between the beds. Healers carry hot herb bowls and bloody cloth. Some people are awake. Some sleep under thick blankets.

I step inside.

Every voice stops.

A healer drops her cloth.

A warrior with bandages pushes himself up, wincing.

Nobody says hello. Nobody yells. They just watch.

The weight of their eyes presses on my skin until I can't breathe right.

A young healer goes to Ezra. "My Alpha."

"How is he?"

The healer looks nervous at me. "He's alive."

I breathe out. I didn't know I was holding my breath.

"But..."

My stomach falls.

"He hasn't woken up yet."

Alive. But because of me, he's still hurt. Still fighting to live in his own bed.

"Most of the others will heal," the healer keeps talking quietly. "The ones he threw into the walls. Most will be okay."

Most. Such a small word. But it means some won't be okay.

Ezra takes me deeper into the room.

Near the end is a boy. Eighteen maybe. Maybe younger. Bandages cover his shoulder and chest. His breathing is shallow and slow.

Next to him sits a woman. Her eyes are tired. I'm so tired. Silver is starting to grow in her dark hair. She hasn't moved in hours. Her hand is on his.

She looks up.

Our eyes meet.

I wait for anger. I wait for blame.

Instead I see exhaustion.

I move forward before I can stop myself. "I'm sorry."

She studies my face. Doesn't say anything for a long time.

"I know you didn't want this to happen."

Hope flickers. One second.

Then she looks back at her son.

"But he's still lying here."

The hope dies.

Because she's right. Wanting something different doesn't change what already happened. My knees feel weak.

"I never wanted to hurt him."

"I believe you."

Her words are kind. Kind words hurt worse than mean ones.

"I've prayed for ten years that my son would come home safe from the hunts." She doesn't look at me. "I never thought I'd have to pray for him inside his own home."

Those words sink into me. Deep. They'll stay there forever.

I turn and walk out. Nobody stops me. Not even Ezra.

The cold air outside hits my face but it's not enough. I lean against the stone wall. My hands shake so much I can't breathe right.

I'm walking back through the halls when I hear the voices.

They're coming from the council room.

Loud. Angry. Scared.

I stop moving.

"The Alpha has lost his mind."

"That girl is unstable."

"She hurt our own people."

"If the Council finds out she's here, they'll destroy this whole pack."

My breathing gets weird. Stuck. Not working right.

They're talking about me.

An older voice cuts through. "We should hand her over. Before it's too late."

Another one agrees. "One girl for hundreds of our people. That's logical. That's the right choice."

I can't breathe.

I need to leave. I need to go before they know I heard.

Then Ezra speaks.

"No."

The room goes silent.

"Do you understand what you're risking?" someone asks.

"Yes."

"And you still choose her?"

"Yes."

No reasons. No big speech. Just one word.

But that word weighs more than everything.

I close my eyes.

Nobody has ever chosen me. Not one time in my whole life.

I should feel happy.

Instead, the guilt gets heavier. Now Ezra is putting his own people in danger. For me. who nearly killed them.

I turn around slowly and quietly.

I don't want anyone to see my tears.

That night I'm alone in my room.

I wash my hands.

Over and over.

Like if I scrub hard enough, I can make it disappear. Make what I did go away.

The water gets cold. Strange cold.

The room gets quiet. Too quiet. Like the walls are holding their breath.

There's wind that comes through the closed window.

It shouldn't be possible.

But it is.

Then I hear a voice.

Soft.

Old.

Almost nice.

"You still think you are the curse..."

I look up fast.

The room is empty.

The voice comes again.

"Little wolf..."

"They were afraid of your blood long before you were born."

The candle next to my bed just goes out. All the light disappears.

I'm sitting in black.

"Who's there?" My voice sounds small. Lost.

Nothing answers.

Just quiet.

Then I see something that can't be real.

A silver wolf paw print appears on the floor next to my bed. It glows soft and bright. Then slowly it fades into the wood. Like it was never there.

Like I imagined it.

But I didn't.

I know I didn't.

I stare at that floor.

Outside the compound walls, the wind howls.

And somewhere out there, something old and dark is waking up.