~Julian~
Some moments don't feel real while they happen.
They stretch and blur until time itself seems to slow.
You keep moving because stopping would mean admitting the truth.
And the truth is simple.
Sometimes the only thing standing between life and death
is the next breath.
~~~
I counted her breaths, each one a fragile thread I refused to lose.
One.
Two.
Three.
Almost gone.
The air inside the car felt too thin, as if the world itself had forgotten her.
Her head rested lightly against my chest, weightless and limp. Blonde strands clung to her face, damp with dust and streaked with dark blood. Her lips were pale, a shadow of what they should have been.
For a moment, everything inside me went unsteady, but I forced it back into place.
Her heartbeat was still there, faint and uneven beneath the blood and the cold. I searched for anything I had missed, any weakness in him, any opening, any possibility that had not already slipped through my hands.
Think. There has to be a way...
I drew in a slow breath and held it.
The man had not blinked or spoken, yet his awareness held me in place like a weight I could not lift. I could almost feel him moving through my thoughts, finding each fear before I gave it a name.
"Who are you?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
He gave me nothing. Not a word. Not a flicker of reaction. The silence stretched, and I understood then that this was a being that answered to no one.
My hands tightened around her, pulling her closer, as if I could force warmth back into her body by holding on hard enough.
Beneath her skin, something shifted at my touch. Delicate, unhuman, and steeped in a darkness that made my breath falter.
"Stay with me," I whispered against her hair, voice unsteady. Hollow words, but the only ones I had.
Guilt sank deep enough to make my arms feel heavier around her. I had not protected her. I had stood there and watched while something inhuman tore into her and took what it wanted, as if she were nothing more than prey.
The car wrenched free of the branches clawing at us and lurched hard into a clearing, the sudden stop jolting her against my chest.
A stone cottage waited ahead of us.
At first glance it looked small, almost unremarkable, but the longer I stared, the more it seemed to deepen rather than widen, as if the place extended inward in ways it should not.
It felt old. Not abandoned or worn, but watchful.
Ivy wrapped the gray stones, clinging like cold hands. A heavy wooden door, iron-banded and severe, guarded whatever waited inside. The light died off where the walls met the earth, and the windows were dark, blank, as if the house had closed its eyes against the world.
"This isn't right..."
My gut twisted as the engine died. Every instinct screamed at me to turn back, but I tightened my hold on her and stayed.
He yanked the car door open, metal shrieking, and took her from my arms in one swift motion.
My grip broke before I could stop it.
The cottage door swung open before we reached it.
A dozen young women filled the threshold, their faces drawn tight with shock, fear, and open curiosity. Their gowns spilled to the ground in muted waves, cloaks stitched with arcane symbols clinging to their shoulders. They did not look like they belonged to anything I understood.
One stepped forward, her voice slicing cleanly through the silence.
"What the hell happened?" Her words came sharp, matching the blaze of red hair framing her face.
The man ignored them and pushed past, his steps measured and deliberate, carrying her as if she weighed nothing.
Every movement was infuriating. As if he wasn't the reason she was like this in the first place.
I followed close behind, forcing the tension in my chest down just enough to keep moving.
My eyes stayed on him, tracking every step, every shift of his grip on her.
The hall opened before us, far too large for a cottage. Stern faces watched from framed paintings. Landscapes seemed to breathe. Heavy statuettes lined the walls, radiating age and authority. He walked through it all as if the space bent to him.
He carried Asteria with unsettling care, her head resting against his shoulder, her fingers brushing his chest as if seeking some comfort I couldn't give.
My steps faltered for half a second before I forced them steady.
For now, he was keeping her alive.
Each step echoed through me, too loud against the silence of the hall, as if the space itself were keeping count.
He entered a wide chamber where tall windows swallowed the walls.
Fire roared in the stone hearth, casting flickering gold across the room. The air smelled of smoke and something faintly sweet, like incense mixed with damp earth. Thick rugs swallowed our steps.
A low hum threaded through the air, subtle but impossible to ignore.
He laid her carefully on a worn antique couch.
Firelight flickered across her pale skin, catching on every shallow rise of her chest.
The women gathered around her immediately, forming a circle as a chorus of whispers rose and fell like waves.
I did not move.
"What did you do to her?" the redhead snapped.
"You'll need to tie her up soon enough. She'll wake, and she's quite feisty," he answered, without even looking at her.
"You piece of shi—"
"Careful, little squirrel," he said, his voice low and edged with something inhuman. "Or I'll turn you into a fine meal for the hounds."
I forced my breathing to steady, drawing it in slow and controlled.
Tie her up?
My gaze snapped back to Asteria.
My throat tightened, the breath catching on the way in, but I did not move.
This place wasn't safe. Not yet.
The redhead's glare snapped to me, sharper than any blade.
"And who the fuck is that?" Her voice cut through the room, like a spark in dry grass.
Every head turned. Eyes weighed me in silence as his gaze flicked briefly in my direction.
"He's hers," he said simply.
The words landed wrong, carrying something I did not trust.
"You must be fucking kidding me," she hissed, a bitter laugh curling from her lips.
Her eyes never left mine, bright with disbelief and something harder beneath it.
"Why didn't you get rid of him?" she demanded. "How, in the name of the Mother, was bringing him here a good idea?"
She paced in front of me, restless, as if she were ready to fix that mistake herself.
"You expect us to just accept this?"
My weight shifted forward before I caught it. My muscles tightened, ready to move, every instinct pulling me toward her.
I forced it back and held my ground.
"Enough, Ignes."
Silence fell instantly.
"You think I welcome this situation?" he said, his voice calm, but carrying a weight that pressed into the room."He's the reason this happened. He's indispensable to her, so he stays where I can see him.""Be useful for once."
His eyes flicked to me, unflinching. Unreadable.
His lips twitched into the faintest smile.
I could not tell if it was a warning or something worse.
He turned abruptly.
"I have to check the perimeter. Orin, tend to her wounds."
His gaze cut back to the redhead, low and controlled, something dangerous tightening in it.
"Do your job, Ignes."
With that, he turned and left, leaving me in a room full of strangers with sharp eyes, quiet whispers, and Asteria lying helpless by the fire.
The silence that followed settled heavy across the room.
Every pair of eyes burned through me, assessing, judging, calculating whether I was a threat or just another mistake dragged in from the outside world.
The redhead crossed her arms, jaw tight, her hair catching the firelight in sharp flashes.
She looked one breath away from losing control.
"Unbelievable," she muttered, pacing a few steps before turning back to me.
Her eyes were blazing gold, unnatural. They were wrong for this world, and still, mesmerizing.
Another woman stepped forward from the back of the room.
She was tall and calm, chocolate curls framing a face that remained steady despite everything around us.
Her hands were stained green and brown from crushed herbs.
"That's enough, Ignes," she said quietly.
"If he's connected to her, he stays. We don't need more noise."
Ignes shot her a sharp look, jaw flexing, but didn't argue. She turned away with a frustrated huff, muttering something about mortals and trouble.
The dark-haired woman knelt beside Asteria, her movements fluid and practiced.
"I'm Orin," she said, her fingertips moving over Asteria's skin with careful precision.
The others gave her space, their shoulders straightening as if a command had passed unseen.
"If you care for her, stay out of my way."
I nodded, the movement small and automatic. My throat felt raw, each breath uneven as my pulse pounded hard against my ribs.
Orin opened a small pouch and spread its contents across the low table: leaves, roots and powders that carried a strange, electric scent.
As she crushed a few pieces between her palms, the scent deepened, sharpening the air until it felt charged with something I could not name.
Her quiet muttering threaded through the room, too soft to understand but heavy with intent, raising the hairs along my arms.
Then Asteria whimpered.
The sound was faint, barely more than a breath, but it cut through the room with sharp clarity.
Every head turned.
Orin froze, her hands hovering above Asteria's chest. Her eyes widened slowly, as if she didn't trust what she was seeing.
"I can't believe it…" she whispered.
Her gaze lifted slightly.
"She's stabilizing."
A subtle shift passed through the room, quiet but unmistakable.
"Ignes," Orin said, lifting her gaze. "She's waking."
~~~
I still remember the hope I felt then.
The warmth spreading through my chest.
The way my heart felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had finally lifted.
Like we had stolen her back from death.
I didn't know it yet,
but that moment was only the beginning of a very long war.