Chapter Four
1295 Words
Morning arrived without sunlight.
Sleep had been impossible. My mind replayed every moment. His fury, His restraint, the tremor in his hand when he almost touched me again. Rhaziel Varyn was a monster, yes, but one carved from tragedy as much as power. And I, somehow, was the only living thing he could touch without killing.
Why?
What was I?
I paced the room, eyeing the windows. I took tentative steps to check and they were too high to climb; their glass, though cracked, was reinforced with faint silver runes. A balcony door sat to the right, sealed by a layer of hardened stone, as if the castle itself had decided I was not allowed to leave.
Caged.
Protected.
Both truths choked me.
I was still lost in my thoughts when the heavy doors groaned open.
Rhaziel stepped inside.
He didn’t enter like a king. He entered like a man who feared what the room might force him to feel.
His gaze swept over me, lingering on my face longer than it should have. “You did not sleep.”
“I don't see how that affects you,” I said.
A small, humorless smile curved his lips. "It doesn't. I just don't want you to die before I find out what I need to know."
"Whose room is this?" I asked before thinking.
A shadow crossed his features. old pain, old memories. but he dismissed it with a flicker of control. “It doesn't concern you.”
That meant: It matters too much.
He stepped further in, and the temperature of the room shifted. The air became heavier, charged.
“I brought you food,” he said, motioning toward a silver tray I hadn’t noticed. “Eat.”
It was an order.
But also… not.
How did he even manage to get food?
Did he prepare it himself?
"You can take your good away. I'm not hungry." I murmured without looking at him.
His eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in something like concern. “You need strength.”
“For what?” what was happening today?
He studied me for a long, unreadable moment. Then:
“For the test. And your so called mission that brought you here.”
My pulse spiked. “What kind of test?”
His jaw clenched. “I need to know whether your immunity was an anomaly… or real.”
“I survived your touch..."
''You survived accidental contact,” he cut in. “That is different. Brief. Uncontrolled.”
He took a slow, deliberate step toward me.
''We will test deliberate touch.''
My mouth went dry. Thinking bsck, he had been wearing gloves when he touched me after the first time. ''You want me to touch you on purpose?''
“No,” he said quietly. “I want to allow you to.”
A chill ran through me.
Rhaziel. who had avoided touch for over a hundred years was asking for it now. For the sake of knowledge. For the sake of survival. For reasons he didn’t dare name aloud.
His gaze dropped to his hands. He flexed them once, as if grounding himself. ''I will not lie to you, Elara Thorne. This will not be easy for either of us.''
“Then why do it?”
His eyes lifted to mine. Raw, Dark, vulnerable in a way I had never expected to see.
''Because I must understand you,” he said. ''And because you are the first being I have touched in a century who did not die.''
The weight of his confession slammed into me.
A century
A hundred years of isolation.
Hundred years without a single human touch or company.
And I was the exception.
He raised a hand, not toward me, but hovering near his own chest. ''Come here.''
It wasn’t a command.
It was an invitation sharpened with fear.
My legs trembled as I stepped closer. He remained utterly still, as if any movement might shatter the moment. When I stopped in front of him, our breaths mingled in the cold air.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Touch me… only if you are willing.”
Willing.
Not following orders.
Not trapped.
Not forced.
Not to kill him.
The distinction mattered.
Slowly... so slowly...he extended his hand.
The same hand that had killed thousands.
The hand that had ended kingdoms.
The hand that had been denied all warmth for a century.
The hand that killed my brother.
But I still moved to touch him as if compelled by an invincible force.
My fingertips hovered an inch above his palm.
His muscles tightened.
“Do it,” he whispered... Hoarse, cracked. “Please.''
The word stunned me.
Please.
From him?
I exhaled shakily and lowered my hand.
Our skin met.
And the world broke open.
A shockwave tore through the room silent, blinding, violent. The air vibrated. The walls trembled. Veins of light shot across the floor like lightning. The carved roses on the door shimmered, then cracked straight down the middle with a deafening SNAP.
Rhaziel gasped! He actually gasped... and staggered back, but he didn’t let go of my hand. His other hand clutched the edge of the table to steady himself as the castle groaned around us.
''What...'' I choked out. ''What’s happening?!''
He stared at our joined hands like they were the sun and he’d forgotten how to look at light. ''The curse…” His chest rose and fell, breathless. "It moved."
The floor split beneath us, a thin crack racing across the marble tiles. Dust rained from the ceiling. Tapestries fluttered violently though there was no wind.
Rhaziel’s fingers tightened around mine.
''Elara,'' he said, voice trembling between awe and fear. ''The curse responds to emotion… not just touch.''
''You’re saying...''
''Your presence,'' he whispered, ''your fear, your confusion… my control slipping…” He swallowed hard. ''It is reflecting us.''
The curse was reacting to him.
To me.
To us.
A final tremor shook the chamber before everything went silent.
Too silent.
He slowly released my hand.
The moment he did, the cracks in the walls pulsed once… then dimmed.
Rhaziel stared at me as if I were a miracle and a disaster intertwined. ''You are not an anomaly,'' he breathed. ''You are a catalyst.''
''I don’t know what that means.''
''It means,'' he said, stepping back as though afraid to be too close, ''that the curse did not merely tolerate you.''
His eyes darkened...silver and shadow swirling like a storm.
''It recognized you.''
My breath caught.
Recognized.
As what?
As whom?
And why?
His voice dropped to something softer, more dangerous. ''And that changes everything.''
He turned away abruptly, pacing to the far side of the room as though he couldn’t stand still. His hands trembled faintly, whether with fear or restraint, I couldn’t tell.
When he finally faced me again, the walls behind him were fractured in a pattern that looked almost like… wings.
“Elara,” he said, voice low, “I do not know what you are… but I know this.”
He stepped toward me with slow, deliberate steps.
"You were not sent here to kill me."
He swallowed.
“You were sent here to undo me. To lure me out of here''
A chill swept through me.
What is he saying?
I wasn't sent to kill him?
How can I undo him?
And how was I supposed to lure him out?!
Why?
His eyes locked onto mine, fierce and consuming.
''And I am not certain,'' he said softly, ''whether that will save this land… or destroy it.'' he turned abruptly and left without looking back at me.
The last words trembled through the cracked room like prophecy.
And I realized, with a cold jolt of dread:
This was only the beginning.
- Writer
