CHAPTER 295: DEEP DARKNESS

"Maya!!!"

Diana. Finally.

I sighed, but that wasn’t it—it was like releasing the last fragile thread of life I had been holding onto, clinging to hope against hope.

The sound of my sister’s voice had been a balm and a wound at the same time. Relief had broken through me for a fleeting heartbeat, but the very act of relaxing, of allowing myself to believe I was saved, had snapped something inside me.

I felt myself plunge into deep darkness.

The fall was instant, merciless. Darkness surged up like a sea, an endless black tide swallowing me whole. It was not emptiness but substance, thick and suffocating, a liquid void that dragged me deeper and deeper into its belly.

My body became weightless, then unbearably heavy, like stones chained to my limbs. I sank endlessly, my arms flailing weakly through the black current, each movement slower than the last, as if time itself had conspired against me.

The water—if it could be called that—was icy, biting into my skin like shards of glass. Yet it burned too, hot in places where it should not be, licking across my veins, confusing my body until I could no longer tell where pain began and where numbness ended.

I tried to scream, but only bubbles escaped my mouth, rising sluggishly toward a surface I could not see. The sound was swallowed instantly, leaving me in silence so heavy it pressed against my ears until they rang.

At the bottom of this sea, there was no ground. Only the sensation of drifting aimlessly, like a broken shell discarded in a tide that had no mercy. I curled into myself, folding like a child, and for one mad moment I thought: Is this death?

The silence mocked me. The sea pressed me tighter. My chest burned for air, but there was none. Shadows coiled like serpents around my legs, tugging, reminding me that even in death I was prey. My mind screamed for El, for light, for anything that was not this. Yet none came.

And then, just as I thought the dark would crush me into nothing, a crack appeared. A faint ripple shimmered far above me. A pinprick of pale light pierced through, growing, stretching, slicing the black sea like a blade.

The sight tore sobs from my throat, though they made no sound.

"Dora!"

It was Raul’s voice, sharp, insistent, urgent.

My eyes were still shut, but I marveled at the fact that I was still alive, even though I was barely hanging on. His voice echoed like a lifeline dragging me upward.

I realized in the same breath that I was moving—that I was being carried. Strong arms held me, pressing me against warmth, the swing of motion jostling my battered body.

And I wondered—to where?

Where was Diana?

I wanted to tell Raul not to trust the Lycan King and his sons, to beg him to take me far away from this cursed pack. But my mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

I felt weightless, and my ears caught then, faintly, the sound of Diana sobbing. Her sobs were broken, ragged, a sound of despair so raw it pierced even the fog of my weakness.

My sister. How I had failed her.

The thought hollowed me out, and the darkness consumed me again, dragging me down.

This time it was quicker, more brutal. Like being seized by unseen hands and flung beneath the waves. The black waters churned, snarling currents tossing me around, spinning me without mercy. My body thrashed uselessly, every attempt at control stripped away.

The silence thickened until it roared, pressing into my ears, into my mind. There was no up or down, only void. I was tossed like driftwood until I no longer knew if I was drowning or simply dissolving.

When I touched consciousness again, I was in a smoky place.

The smell was the first thing that assaulted me—dense, acrid, woodsy. My nose twitched involuntarily, and even that small motion was pain, a sharp reminder of the broken state of my body. Each breath felt like fire, scratching down my throat, filling my lungs with grit.

Was I in Laura’s hut?

I prayed for that miracle. Only my mother could wake me from this mess, could breathe life back into my failing body, could stitch my soul together and set me on the path of revenge.

Please. I pleaded silently to the goddess, to whatever creator was out there. Let me have this chance. Do not let this be my end.

But darkness greeted me again, the sea rising to claim me, submerging me in its cold embrace.

I wasn’t sure how long I was out, how long I stayed in the void, blaming myself for my ill luck. Minutes, hours, lifetimes—it blurred into one. My thoughts turned to ash and drifted away.

But then, at a certain point, the darkness shifted.

It parted like a curtain, slow and deliberate.

And through the opening stepped a woman.

Malek.

I didn’t know whether to sob or laugh. Relief and bitterness tore at me in equal measure. I swam toward her, desperate for something solid, only to frown when I couldn’t touch her.

There was an invisible barricade. I was locked out from the light she carried.

"Malek. What’s going on?" My voice was frantic, wet, muffled, as though water still filled my mouth.

"You didn’t listen to me. That’s what happened."

She wasn’t pleased. Anger simmered in her eyes, sharp and accusing. And I understood it. But still, I would be of no use to the goddess if I was dead.

"Don’t think the goddess can’t replace you. She replaced me."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Her gaze shifted, sorrow flickering across her features before she sighed and looked away. "The purpose you have been given was mine at first. I rejected it, fought against it, ran away."

My frown deepened. "What purpose is this? Does it require giving up someone you love? Why would you reject it?"

Malek shrugged, her shoulders heavy with memory. "I was afraid. Afraid when I saw the vision of what the future would be if I failed. My fear was the failure itself—that I wouldn’t succeed, that millions of lives would be lost, and their blood would be tasked on my head. So I fled. I rejected the goddess, and the baton was transferred to you."

Her form shimmered faintly, reminding me she was not truly here, only a projection woven into my subconscious. Yet the weight of her words made her feel painfully real.

Was she nearby physically? Watching me in the waking world even now?

"I’m to be your guide, however," she continued, "but I can’t do that if you won’t listen."

"I’m sorry. What do I do now?" My voice cracked, desperation raw in my throat.

"You are lucky the goddess has given you another chance," she said evenly, "but not at the revenge you are seeking."

I hissed softly, anger biting through me. "What are you talking about? They have almost killed me, twice!"

"And I’ve told you that things are not usually what they seem!" Malek’s voice rose, her anger spilling like thunder. "That you should be sensitive to things. If you had been, you wouldn’t have drank the wine. The intoxicating scent wasn’t natural!"

Her face twisted, fury contorting her features into something harsh, almost cruel. "But you don’t listen. Even now, you won’t. You would rather go on a rampage the goddess does not approve of."

"You have seen my future." The words tumbled out, not a question but a statement.

"Does it matter?"

It mattered. Every syllable of it mattered. "What becomes of me?"

"It’s not in my place to say."

"Then what is in your place to say?" My voice sharpened, rising, anger swelling like a tide within me.

"That you will be given another chance to make things right."

I scoffed bitterly. "Where is El?"

But Malek gave me no answer.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I cursed at her, slamming my fists against the invisible barricade. "Don’t come back!"

She sighed, a sound more weary than angry. "I wasn’t planning to. You will find me when you are on the right path."

And she shimmered out of my sight, abandoning me to the darkness, which rose once more and pulled me down into its endless, merciless depths.