CHAPTER 157: CHAPTER 157: THE SILENCE IN THE ABYSS

*****

Varya stepped out of the medical bay, her breath shallow, her fingers trembling and stained with blood. The sleeves of her tunic were soaked up to her elbows. It wasn’t hers. Lorraine’s blood still clung to her skin like the memory of death refusing to let go.

Cyrin stepped out pf the room, to speak with Kieran about the dwindling wolfsbane supply... about the queen... about everything that could break the fragile thread still holding them all together. But Varya? She needed air, needed to breathe before the walls of that underground hideout crushed her from within.

She climbed the stairs leading up to the surface, each step feeling heavier than the last. The door that once sealed the underground stronghold had been torn off by Kieran days ago. In its place was a makeshift barricade, rough wood and metal welded into something that only just passed for security.

Varya pushed it open with a creak and stepped into the moonless night. The cool air hit her face like a balm, though the ache in her chest refused to be soothed.

That’s when she saw him.

Beneath a lone, skeletal tree not far from the entrance, Felix sat with his back to the trunk, knees pulled up, his arms hanging limply over them. He looked lost in the kind of sorrow that didn’t cry out, but simmered, silent and corrosive. A single tear carved a line down his cheek, catching in the hollow of his jaw.

"Felix?" Varya called softly, uncertain if she should disturb him.

He jolted, startled, and quickly wiped his face with the sleeve of his worn shirt. "Hey," he said with a half hearted smile that didn’t touch his eyes. "Didn’t see you there."

She walked up to him slowly, her boots crunching on the dry leaves scattered around. "Why are you out here?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"Nothing," he replied too quickly. His gaze flickered down to her hands, and the crimson stains that hadn’t dried yet. "The blood," he said quietly, "it’s Lorraine’s, right?"

Varya gave a small nod and sat beside him, her back resting against the same gnarled tree. The silence between them felt loud, but not heavy.

"How is she?" he asked.

"She’s breathing," Varya replied after a moment. "Her vitals are steady for now."

Felix let out a breath that was almost a sigh, his shoulders sagging. "I keep thinking... I should’ve been there. I should’ve protected her."

"You weren’t in the castle," Varya said gently. "You couldn’t have known she’d do that."

"I should’ve known," he muttered. "Lorraine... she’s strong, but she doesn’t ask for help. She holds everything in until she breaks. She thinks pain is a burden she should carry alone."

"She’s not alone," Varya said. "Not anymore."

He gave a bitter laugh. "You really believe that? She screamed at Kieran to leave. Screamed at all of us."

"She screamed because she’s drowning," Varya said. "When people drown, they thrash. They pull away even from the ones trying to save them." Her voice dropped. "But it doesn’t mean they want to be alone. It means they don’t know how to be saved."

Felix was quiet for a while, then he nodded slowly. "I just... I don’t know what I’d do if she... if she didn’t make it."

"She did," Varya said firmly. "And she’s still here. So don’t mourn her yet."

Felix didn’t reply. He just looked up at the dark sky, then down at the blood still drying on Varya’s fingers.

Then he exhaled shakily, rubbing his palm across his face. "I feel useless."

Varya turned her head to look at him, brows slightly furrowed. He stared ahead, his voice low and hollow.

"Lorraine... she was always there. From the beginning. Brave. Reckless, sometimes. But always courageous." His fingers clenched into fists. "She fought for us ferals. Even when the academy treated her like garbage, even when people spit on her name, she still stood up. For me. For the others. She was our voice. Our shield."

He blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. "And now.... we’re the only two left. The others are all gone. And she.... she’s broken. Her arm is gone, her spirit too, maybe. And I just stood by, helpless. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save her."

Varya was quiet for a moment, watching the pain stretch across his face like a fracture that ran deeper than words could touch. Then, softly, she said, "You’re wrong, Felix."

He turned to her, startled.

"You were there," she continued. "Maybe not in the fight with the Queen, maybe not holding a weapon, but you heard when she screamed, when she needed someone to blame, to anchor her rage. You were the one who reminded the rest of us that Lorraine mattered. You were the one who yelled at a king on her behalf. That’s not nothing Felix, you are not useless"

Felix blinked. He hadn’t expected that. Not from Varya.

His gaze lingered on her, quiet curiosity settling into his eyes. "Why are you suddenly so.... nice to us?" he asked, voice colored with confusion. "To me?"

Varya let out a quiet breath and tilted her head back toward the dark sky. "Beats me," she said honestly. "I don’t know. I used to hate ferals. Truly. You were nothing to me. Just background noise."

Felix arched a brow, not offended, just listening.

"And yet," she went on, "I just spent the past hour with my father, covered in blood, working desperately to save one of you. One I once swore I’d never lift a finger for."

"You did that because Kieran ordered you to amd he is your King" Felix said but Varya shook her head.

She looked down at her hands, stained red and trembling. "You said it was because Kieran ordered us to. But that’s not why I stayed."

Felix tilted his head, waiting.

"I was scared," she admitted. "Genuinely scared for her. Lorraine. I wanted her to live. I didn’t even realize how badly until she started crashing. A week ago.... hell, even few days ago, I would have probably killed her without blinking, without breaking a sweat. But today...." Her voice faltered, and she looked at him again. "Today, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her."

There was a long silence. The air around them was still and heavy, but the weight between them felt a little less suffocating now.

"Maybe," Varya said, "life outside that academy is teaching me something I never wanted to learn. That every life matters, lycans, elite, noble.... feral. It shouldn’t take blood and war for us to see that. But I see it now."

Felix stared at her, eyes wide, his breath caught in his throat.

"And maybe," she added with a tired smile, "you’re not as annoying as I thought."

Felix huffed a quiet, surprised laugh. "You’re still kind of mean."

"Don’t push it," Varya muttered, nudging him gently with her elbow and he smiled.

Lorraine’s POV

There was only darkness.

Not the kind you see when you close your eyes, but something deeper, an abyss so vast it felt like the universe itself had swallowed me whole. I stood there barefoot, weightless, suspended in nothingness. Usually, when I was here, wherever here was, my wolf would be waiting. She would speak, comfort me, challenge me, haunt me.

But now.... nothing.

No voice.

No warmth.

No presence.

Just me.

Alone.

I turned in every direction, searching, begging. "Where are you?" I whispered. My voice echoed back endlessly. Where are you...are you...you...

My chest tightened.

Am I dead?

Was this it? The afterlife? A void with no answers, no peace, just silence?

But then, I looked down.

My arms.

Or rather.... arm.

It was still gone, just a healed stump, even here in this shapeless nightmare. I stared at it, willing it to come back.

But it wasn’t coming back

And then the voice came.

"Pathetic."

"Weak."

"Feeble little nothing."

"You couldn’t even die right."

"No," I said, spinning around, searching for the source.

"You’re not a warrior."

"You’re not a survivor."

"You’re not even a proper werewolf."

"Stop."

"You’re broken, Lorraine Anderson."

"And now, without your arm, you’re even more useless."

"Stop it!"

"No wolf wants a cripple. No mate wants a burden."

"Shut up!" I screamed, gripping my head as the voice grew louder, heavier, splitting through my skull like a jagged blade. "SHUT UP!"

My scream echoed through the abyss. I fell to my knees, hands over my ears, trembling, choking on sobs as the taunting laughter of the voice twisted around me like a noose.

Then....

Light.

It was sudden and sharp.

It was blinding.

I gasped, air rushing into my lungs like a firestorm. I shot up, or tried to. My body jerked, only to be snapped back down by something cold and metallic. My vision swam as sweat dripped down my temples. My throat ached. Bandages around my neck scratched against my skin.

My legs.....it was chained.

My remaining arm, chained too.

Even my waist.

I was fully chained to the bed

I thrashed, panic surging like a flood. "What.... what is this?!"

Then I heard it.

His voice.

Low. Quiet. Close.

"I’m sorry, Lorraine."

I turned my head.

And saw him.

Kieran.

Standing by the bedside, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes unreadable, but his face.... his face looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

"What the hell is this?" I rasped.

His jaw clenched. "A precaution."

"No." I shook my head furiously, yanking at the restraints. "No, take them off. Take them off right now!!"

"You tried to kill yourself." His voice cracked. "I walked in and found you on the floor, your neck bleeding out. You were dying, Lorraine."

"I don’t care!" I screamed. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"I can’t!" he snapped, then he lowered his voice. "I can’t. Not again."

My throat tightened, hot tears stinging my eyes. I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want him to see how broken I was. How useless. I wanted to crawl back into that darkness and let it take me.

I was a prisoner now. Not to him.

To this body.

To this grief.

To this life.

I threw my head back and screamed, tears burning trails down my cheeks.

Kieran didn’t move. He just stood there.... watching me break.

And I hated him for it.

And I hated myself even more.