Laying low
1144 Words
The walk back to the room was treacherous as Celeste limped behind Callix, trying to hide the pain.
But her steps left blood on the dark marble floor. She stumbled back; a hand on her back steadied her,
she caught the cold stare of the beta beside her. He led her until they reached her door.
“Lay low for now, and do not get in Nyssa’s sight again ,” he said with an aloof expression. But this was the first show of kindness toward Celeste, and she spoke.
“Thank you for helping me out of there earlier…” Her words made him frown; any sense of care vanished from his gaze as a heavy hand leaned and pressed on her shoulders.
“I did not help you. Compared to what you and your family did to Sorgale, it is a mercy I am not slitting your throat—only because of Alpha Syzar’s command to deal with you himself. I trust he will make sure your existence is miserable,” he hissed, his frame crowding over her space.
His aura and form proved that he was the truly colder twin compared to Cassian, and he wasn’t afraid to break her with callous words.
She felt her eyes prickle with tears—not just from his words, but from Syzar’s hatred toward her.
Celeste felt the guilt take over again; she had no right to battle what he felt about how her family had torn thousands of families apart.
“Forgive me, Beta Callix, I was out of line,” she mumbled, and with no other words, she walked into her small room.
Limping toward the bed, her vision grew hazy from the loss of blood; the floor shone with it as her body trembled from the pain.
She leaned over to dig a few shards out of her feet, whimpers escaping, cleaning what she could, but everything hurt so much.
“It hurts… it hurts so much,” she cried, a hand to her heart. She wondered what hurt most now—her wounds or the pang in her heart.
She cried softly till her eyes closed, the soreness took over, and her skin burned as a looming fever overrode her senses.
It left her a hallucinating mess with only Syzar’s name on her lips during her dizzy spells.
She saw him once more in her dreams, and at a time she tried to reach out, his hatred was meek as he stayed away, even when she reached for him.
Painful memories returned of the days back in Crossvale when she had become his companion, confidante, and secret friend—even though she wasn’t allowed near any men.
The feeling she held for him had begun to change into something else: love. But she ruined it all; she ruined him.
Tears fell down her face as she dreamed; just as she felt a cold touch on her cheeks, her eyes opened quickly to see the cramped ceiling of her prison.
She looked down to see Anora, Muriel’s apprentice, holding a towel in her hand. She had helped Celeste after finding her unconscious.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. She saw Anora drop the towel.
“It seems you’re better now that you are talking. You had a fever from the blood loss. I did the best I could to take the shards out. Good thing I saw Beta Callix earlier,” Anora said as Celeste’s eyes moved to her legs and saw they had been bandaged.
“You did this for me… Why? I thought you were Nyssa’s—”
“Nyssa’s lapdog? No, i- I try not to be, but she has helped the alpha, so we all respect and fear her,” Anora finished as she cleaned Celeste’s forehead once more before dropping the cool towel.
“No… Let’s just say I’m paying you back a favor,” she said as Celeste watched her.
“You don’t remember me, but I remember you, Ayvoc. I was fifteen when I was about to be forced to marry one of the elders in the Crossvale pack.
I don’t know if you took pity on me that night, but you helped me escape… I found the resistance through Lady Nyssa, who helped Alpha Syzar too,” she explained.
And Celeste’s heart ached—a part of her recalled the guilt she had felt seeing young girls taken and bound as gifts after the siege.
How she had freed them, in secrecy, even when her father’s wrath exploded, but she had held her ground for their safety.
“Then I’m glad you are safe…” Celeste smiled, and Anora’s lips wobbled.
“Why are you so complacent to Mistress Nyssa’s words? You should have bolted out of there if she wanted to hurt you,” she said, pushing a cool towel over Celeste’s scalded fingers and rubbing a cooling balm on them that helped significantly.
“Blanca was going to get hurt… I didn’t want someone innocent to be abused for my sake,” she answered as Anora cleaned her tears.
“And because of that you are in this state. Lady Nyssa hates you, and all the more hates the pain she was subjected to after being forced to become your brother’s and then your uncle’s concubine,” she said.
“You will have a few days to heal because the alphas aren’t here, so stay clear from Nyssa… and obey the matrons if you want to live; serve the king well to get your freedom,” Anora said as she stood up.
“Do not tell anyone that I helped with your wounds, please,” she called as she stood to leave.
The door closed again, enveloping Celeste into the darkness once more as she sat up.
Her eyes gazed through the dark room as a sadness filled her insides. Her throat hurt from the pain, and her eyes prickled just as she let herself finally cry.
Finally, she let the thought sink in: if she had just been brave enough, if she hadn’t let go of his hand, would things be different? Would she be by his side as his mate rather than his slave?
There was no one by her side, and her stupid heart still felt something for the alpha even though she knew she had no right to. But he had made his decision now.
She would forget him. She would learn to hate him, and even though he used her body as he pleased, she would make sure to cut away all feeling of pleasure.
She would make him hate her enough to kill her and end her miserable life. That was the only gift she could give him.
And maybe this cursed fate between them would be over once and for all.
- Writer
