chapter 12 Weight of weakness and fury

Calista sat frozen, her chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths. The silence in the carriage was suffocating. She dared not speak, her voice trapped in the void of her trembling thoughts.

"Alex," Ethan's voice broke through the tension, cautious but firm. His gaze darted between his friend and Calista, weighing the delicate balance of the situation.

Alexander's hands were balled into fists, his knuckles white with restraint. "Let's get some air," he muttered, his voice low and laced with barely contained fury. Every muscle in his body screamed for release, for destruction, yet something within him restrained him from unleashing his wrath on her.

"Stop the carriage," Ethan commanded the coachman. The horses whinnied softly, and the carriage came to a smooth halt. Alexander stood, his dark eyes locking onto Calista one final time. His gaze burned into her soul, a silent promise that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I will find you," he said, his words slow and deliberate, each syllable weighted with menace. Then, without another word, he leaped out of the carriage, his coat billowing in the night air. Ethan followed, throwing a glance back at the shaken girls before disappearing into the trees.

The carriage jolted forward again. Calista remained motionless, her mind replaying Alexander's words over and over, like a haunting melody she couldn't escape. I will find you. The threat echoed in her ears, her body trembling as she tried—and failed—to suppress the fear clawing at her chest.

Inside the carriage, the sobbing that had once filled the air had quieted into silence. Each girl was lost in her own thoughts. Aurora stared at her hands, guilt tightening her throat. I failed her, she thought, her stomach twisting with shame. I couldn't even defend my best friend… my sister.

Calista, on the other hand, was numb. The flood of emotions she should have felt—fear, anger, sadness—was drowned out by a suffocating void. She replayed the encounter with Alexander over and over in her mind, each repetition chipping away at her sense of self. She had been powerless, utterly at his mercy. The memory was like a weight pressing down on her chest, crushing her resolve.

Aurora couldn't take the silence any longer. "Calista," she whispered, her voice trembling. When she received no response, she tried again, louder this time. "Calista, I'm… I'm so sorry. I failed you."

Calista blinked slowly, as if coming out of a trance. She didn't turn to look at Aurora, didn't acknowledge the plea in her voice.

"Please," Aurora begged, her voice cracking as tears welled up in her eyes. "Say something. Anything." She dropped to her knees on the carriage floor, clutching Calista's hands. "I promise I'll never let this happen again. I'll protect you, no matter what."

Finally, Calista turned her gaze to Aurora, her emerald eyes glassy with unshed tears. Slowly, she reached out and cupped her friend's face, her touch gentle despite the storm of emotions swirling within her. "I don't blame you," she said softly, her voice devoid of anger or reproach. "I have nothing against you."

Aurora broke down, her head resting against Calista's knees as she sobbed. Before she could respond, the coachman's voice interrupted. "We've arrived."

The carriage came to a stop, and Calista stepped out, her movements robotic and lifeless. She turned to the coachman. "Please take my friend home. I'll pay whatever it costs," she said, her tone flat and emotionless.

The coachman nodded without question and steered the carriage toward Aurora's home. Calista watched it disappear down the road before turning toward her own mansion. Her legs moved automatically, carrying her forward without conscious thought.

The guards at the gate eyed her curiously but said nothing. They looked the other way, pretending not to notice her disheveled state as she walked past.

Inside, the air was heavy with silence, broken only by the faint sound of muffled sobs. Calista followed the sound and found Jacob slumped on the floor in the sitting room. Empty bottles surrounded him like a graveyard of shattered resolve. His usually sharp appearance was disheveled, his hair sticking out at odd angles.

Their eyes met briefly, both filled with unspoken pain. Neither said a word. It was as though an invisible wall separated them, each trapped in their own agony. Without a word, they looked away from each other. Jacob staggered to his feet, grabbing two fresh bottles of alcohol before disappearing down the hall.

Calista turned and climbed the stairs to her room. Closing the door behind her, she approached the mirror. Her trembling hands reached for the clasps of her clothing, and as the fabric fell away, her gaze landed on the angry red mark around her neck.

The sight of it sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down her face. Her fingers brushed against the bruise, and the memory of Alexander's grip came rushing back in vivid detail. She sank to her knees, sobs wracking her body as the weight of her emotions finally broke through the numbness.

"Why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her crying. "Why is it always me? Why can't anything good happen to me?"

Her chest heaved as she gasped for air between sobs. The questions poured out of her like a torrent. Why am I so weak? Why can't I protect myself? Why doesn't anyone stand by me?

Her reflection in the mirror seemed to mock her—broken, powerless, and utterly alone. For the first time in years, Calista allowed herself to feel the full weight of her despair. The realization cut deeper than any wound: she hated herself. Hated her weakness, her dependency, her inability to fight back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, deep in the forest, a blood-curdling scream tore through the night. Flames engulfed the trees, their blazing light illuminating the dark sky.

"Alex! Calm down!" Ethan shouted, shielding his face from the intense heat. The flames lashed out like wild beasts, threatening to consume everything in their path.

Ethan pushed forward, summoning his own power to create a barrier against the inferno. But even as a dragon, the heat was nearly unbearable. Hellfire was unlike any ordinary flame—it burned with an intensity that even he struggled to endure.

"Alex, listen to me!" he yelled again, his voice barely audible over the roar of the fire.

Alexander stood in the center of the chaos, his eyes glowing an unholy red. The flames around him burned hotter, shifting to an eerie blue hue that signaled the arrival of true hellfire. Ethan's heart sank. If Alexander lost control completely, there would be no stopping the destruction.

Finally, Alexander's gaze snapped toward him. Recognition flickered in his blazing eyes, and with a guttural growl, the flames began to recede. The forest fell silent once more, the ground scorched and smoking.

Ethan collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. "I thought I was about to become a roasted bird," he muttered, his voice dry with exhaustion.

Alexander extended a hand to him, pulling him to his feet. "You should be grateful for my mercy," he said, his tone calm but his eyes still smoldering with anger.

Ethan dusted himself off and gave his friend a pointed look. "What made you this crazy? The only time you lost control like this was…" He hesitated, quickly changing the subject. "Never mind."

Alexander didn't reply, but the tension in his posture spoke volumes. The encounter in the carriage had shaken him in ways even he couldn't explain.