CHAPTER 9

The walls around me blurred as exhaustion gripped my body. Hunger gnawed at my stomach like an insatiable parasite, and my throat burned for water. Time had become meaningless—every second dragged into the next, and I had no way of knowing if it had been hours or days since Razor locked me away.

I leaned my head back against the cold wall, the rough texture pressing into my scalp. My breaths were shallow, each one a struggle. The faint light filtering in from the cracks above seemed almost mocking, like the world outside was taunting me with freedom I’d never taste again.

Dark thoughts crept in, heavy and consuming. No one was coming for me. No one even knew where I was. Razor had made sure of that.

And why? Why me? I wasn’t important—not to him, not to anyone. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just let me go. What was I to him, other than a nuisance?

I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts spiral. Maybe it would be easier to give in, to let the darkness swallow me whole. At least then, the pain would stop.

The edges of my consciousness frayed, and I felt myself drifting into a hazy, restless sleep.

---

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in the cold, empty room anymore. The harsh concrete walls were gone, replaced by the soft, familiar glow of my own bedroom. My bed cradled me in its warmth, the faint scent of lavender lingering on the sheets.

For a moment, I thought it was all a dream—a cruel, vivid nightmare conjured by my exhausted mind. But the ache in my body and the hollow pit in my stomach told me otherwise.

I shifted, wincing at the stiffness in my limbs. How did I get back here? I barely had time to process the thought when I noticed someone in the room with me.

Rafael.

He stood by the window, his broad frame leaning casually against the wall. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face, but his dark eyes remained in shadow.

"Finally awake," he said, his voice low and sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife.

I pushed myself up on trembling arms, my head spinning from the effort. “What… what happened?”

“You fainted,” he said, stepping closer. His tone carried a mixture of amusement and disdain. “Pathetic, really. But I brought you back.”

I blinked, confusion and disbelief swirling in my mind. “You… brought me back?”

He smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching with something cruel. “Don’t get any ideas, Elara. I didn’t do it because I care.”

For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something softer in his expression, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

“Then why?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rafael let out a humorless laugh, the sound sending a chill down my spine. “Because you’re not done yet. You still have a purpose to serve.”

My chest tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a stone. “What purpose? What do you even want from me?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved closer to the bed, his eyes scanning me with an intensity that made me feel exposed, like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said finally, his voice cold and detached.

Frustration bubbled up inside me, cutting through the fear. “Why won’t you just tell me? What do you need me for? Why me?”

Rafael tilted his head, his smirk returning. “You ask a lot of questions for someone in your position.”

“I deserve answers,” I shot back, my voice stronger than I expected.

He leaned down, his face inches from mine. For a moment, I thought he might actually tell me. But instead, he just stared at me, his dark eyes unreadable.

“You don’t deserve anything,” he said softly, his tone laced with venom. “Not until I say so.”

His words stung, but I refused to look away. If he thought he could break me with a few sharp remarks, he was wrong.

Rafael straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. “Get some rest, Elara. You’ll need your strength.”

“For what?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to sound defiant.

He was already walking toward the door, but he paused in the doorway, glancing back at me. “You’ll see.”

And with that, he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

I sank back against the pillows, my mind racing with unanswered questions. Razor kept saying I had a purpose, that he needed me. But why? What could I possibly have that he wanted?

I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling in endless loops. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t piece it together. All I knew was that I couldn’t let this go on any longer.

If no one was coming for me, then I’d have to save myself.

---

The next morning, I woke to find a tray of food on the nightstand—a plate of eggs and toast, a glass of water. My stomach twisted at the sight of it. I didn’t trust Razor’s sudden show of hospitality, but hunger overpowered caution.

As I ate, my mind worked overtime, analyzing every detail of the past few days. Razor had slipped up when he mentioned the wedding. It wasn’t much, but it was a lead—something to focus on, to use as leverage.

I needed to figure out what he was planning, and I needed to do it fast.

The sound of the door opening snapped me out of my thoughts. Lysandra stepped in, her expression neutral but her eyes darting around the room like she was checking for hidden threats.

“You look like hell,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Thanks,” I muttered, setting the empty plate aside. “I feel like hell.”

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Razor’s in a meeting. We don’t have much time. What happened last night?”

I told her everything—the escape, the capture, Razor’s cryptic remarks. Her expression darkened with every word.

“He’s playing games,” she said when I finished. “But that’s how he operates. He likes to keep people guessing.”

“Well, I’m tired of playing,” I said, my voice hardening. “I need answers, Lysandra. And I need your help to get them.”

She studied me for a moment, her gaze sharp and calculating. “You’re walking a dangerous line, Elara.”

“I don’t care,” I said firmly. “I can’t sit around waiting for whatever he has planned. I need to figure this out, and I need to stop him.”

Lysandra sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, we do it my way. No more impulsive stunts, no more sneaking around on your own. Got it?”

I nodded, relief washing over me. “Got it.”

She stood, heading for the door. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more tonight.”

As the door closed behind her, a spark of hope ignited in my chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t completely alone.

But that hope was fragile, and I knew it wouldn’t survive if I didn’t act fast.

Whatever Razor was planning, I had to be ready.