Gabriel’s Torment

The manor was silent, the kind of silence that pressed against the walls and settled in the cracks, heavy and unrelenting. Gabriel paced his room, his hands clenched at his sides, his thoughts a tempest that refused to quiet. The storm outside had passed, leaving a cold, still night in its wake, but the storm within him raged on.

Ivy.

Her name echoed in his mind like a whispered spell. Every moment he spent with her chipped away at the barriers he'd spent years fortifying. She wasn't just finding her way into his life—she was weaving herself into his very soul, and it terrified him.

He stopped in front of the window, staring out at the moonlit grounds of Thornhaven. The familiar ache in his chest returned, a mix of longing and fear that left him raw. She didn't understand what she was stepping into, what dangers lurked beneath the surface of his world. How could she? He'd done everything in his power to keep her at arm's length, to shield her from the truth.

But it wasn't enough.

Gabriel closed his eyes, his fingers gripping the windowsill so tightly that the wood creaked under the strain. He couldn't keep her safe if she didn't know the full truth. But telling her would mean exposing the darkest parts of himself—the curse, the Veilglass, and the blood on his hands.

The memory of his family surged forward, unbidden. His father, stern and unyielding, trying to resist the pull of the Veilglass. His mother's soft voice, pleading for Gabriel to leave Thornhaven before it was too late. His sister, her laughter echoing in the halls one day, her screams the next.

He had failed them all.

He wasn't strong enough to protect them, and now the shadows wore their faces in his dreams, haunting him with the reminder of his failures. How could he bear to let Ivy in, to let her see the man he truly was?

And yet, she already saw him.

She saw past the cold exterior, past the sharp words and the walls he put up. When she looked at him, she didn't see the curse or the monster he feared he'd become. She saw something he didn't think existed anymore: a man worth saving.

Gabriel sank into the chair by the fireplace, dropping his head into his hands. The fire had long since gone out, leaving the room cold and dark. He replayed their earlier moment in the study, the way her hand fit so perfectly in his, the way her voice had softened when she'd told him she trusted him.

Her trust was a fragile thing, something he didn't deserve but couldn't bring himself to destroy.

He couldn't let her in. He couldn't risk losing her the way he'd lost everyone else. But every time he tried to push her away, she came back stronger, more determined. She wasn't afraid of him—not of his sharp edges or the darkness he carried.

Gabriel leaned back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't know if he had the strength to keep her out anymore. The need to protect her warred with the desperate pull to let her in, to share the burden he'd carried alone for so long.

What would she do if she knew everything? If she knew the curse didn't just haunt him—it consumed him? That every time he felt something, the Veilglass grew stronger, feeding on his emotions like a parasite?

Gabriel's jaw tightened. He couldn't bear to see her hurt. But what if the truth could help her? What if letting her in, sharing the secrets he'd hidden for years, was the only way to save her?

A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. His heart lurched as Ivy's voice drifted through the heavy wood, soft but insistent.

"Gabriel?"

He closed his eyes, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. He didn't answer, hoping she would leave, hoping she wouldn't hear the torment in his voice if he spoke.

But she didn't leave.

"I know you're in there," she said, her tone gentler now. "You don't have to talk to me, but… I just wanted you to know that I'm here. Whatever it is, whatever you're going through, you don't have to go through it alone."

Her words pierced through his defenses like an arrow, lodging deep in his chest. He clenched his fists, willing himself to stay silent, to keep the door between them.

But her presence, her voice—it was like a balm to the ache he carried, a light cutting through the shadows he'd lived in for so long.

"Ivy," he said finally, his voice rough and low.

The silence on the other side of the door told him she hadn't expected him to answer.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice hesitant but hopeful.

Gabriel stood, his steps slow and deliberate as he approached the door. He rested his hand on the wood, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel her on the other side, so close and yet so far.

"I'm trying to protect you," he said, his voice barely audible. "But I don't know if I'm strong enough to keep you safe."

"You don't have to do it alone," Ivy said gently. "Let me in, Gabriel."

The weight of her words pressed against him, and for a moment, he considered opening the door, letting her see the man behind the mask. But fear held him back.

"I need time," he said, his voice breaking.

She didn't argue, didn't push. "I'll wait," she said softly.

Gabriel rested his forehead against the door, the ache in his chest growing stronger. She would wait—but for how long? And when the truth came out, would she stay?

As her footsteps faded down the hall, Gabriel made a decision. If he was going to let her in, he would need to find the strength to face the darkness within himself first. And that meant confronting the Veilglass, no matter the cost.