The Cost That Does Not Bleed
The pain did not arrive all at once.
That would have been merciful.
Instead, it seeped in quietly, threading itself through breath and balance, through memory and intention, until even standing felt like a negotiation. By the time we reached the basin again, the world had narrowed to careful steps and controlled silence.
Lucien stayed close.
Not touching.
Watching.
"You are fading," he said quietly.
"I am conserving," I replied, though the words tasted thin.
Cassian caught the truth anyway. "Your resonance is collapsing inward."
Alaric's gaze sharpened. "That is not exhaustion. That is recoil."
I sat before anyone could insist, palms pressed to the stone. The chains inside me stirred, not in hunger or alarm, but in something far more dangerous.
Withdrawal.
"I stopped him," I said softly.
Lucien stiffened. "You stopped me."
"Yes," I replied. "And that mattered."
Cassian frowned. "Stopping him should not cost you this."
