The city lights shimmered below like scattered pieces of gold, a reminder that everything glittering could still be cold and dead inside.
I watched the blur of lights through the window, chin resting against my knuckles tiredly as the engine buzzed lowly. Elias drove like a ghost, silent, focused, unreadable. He hadn't said a word since we left the estate.
I had merely told him I wanted to go for a drive, and he had been waiting for me by the car when I stepped outside. This wasn't a drive meant for talking.
It was meant for silence, for space. For whatever storm was brewing inside me that I couldn't name. I needed a moment to breathe, to clear my mind for just a brief moment perhaps.
But I was beginning to think I was wrong; I wouldn't be clearing my mind after all. I used to think the night brought me peace, now, it only gave me room to remember.
The tires rolled over the road, smooth and steady, but my mind wasn't. My thoughts looped endlessly, one jagged, broken reel of anger and memory after another pressed into me like the bruise on my cheeks.
Gideon heavy weight pinning me down.
My screams echoing down the hall.
The stench of blood beneath my nails because i had scratched his back while trying to fight him off.
The traitor's screams echoing through those same halls.
Their eyes, wide with terror, not because I was cruel, but because they hadn't expected me to be.
I blew out a breath. I didn't regret what I had done to them, I didn't regret my cruelty.
Let them know that if I had to crawl over a mountain of corpses to keep my crown, I would, without blinking, without flinching, and without breaking.
Because I'd already broken once. And I'd buried the pieces so deep, not even I could find them anymore. I would never be that woman again.
The car curved up the long hill, toward the overlook that used to be my favorite escape. I'd come here every now and then to catch my breath when Gideon was on business trips, and I'd cry and wish I was a free person instead of a worthless captive used as a doll.
Elias pulled up without needing instruction. He always knew. He parked, turned off the ignition, and waited. I didn't move right away. I let the silence settle around me, heavy and familiar.
Then I stepped out.
The night air greeted me like an old companion; sharp, cool and honest. I walked to the edge of the overlook, letting the wind tug at the hem of my coat. The golden lights below blinked lazily, unaware that the woman watching them was questioning everything.
They hated me for being queen, for being strong and ruthless. They had a problem with me now, but none of them had had a problem with my screams echoing down the halls night after night, none of them had a problem with watching Gideon abuse me again and again.
There was no room for that anymore, there was no room for softness. No room for grief, no room for weakness, not when every moment of hesitation became another crack in my armor.
Power wasn't a throne. It was a weight you carried in silence, a noose you wore like jewelry. And I was beginning to understand that now.
My hands tightened at my sides.
Everything I had now, everything I had done didn't stop the ache. It just made it quieter, numbed it.
Behind me, Elias stood by the vehicle, as unmoving as a statue. I didn't have to look to know he was watching me. He always was.
He'd seen me at my worst and never gloated, he had never made me feel like he worked for Gideon and not me. From the very start, it had always been like he was my only person here, like he was here for me and not Gideon. And that was why I still kept him around.
I stood at the edge until the wind grew too sharp against my skin, until I began to tremble slightly. Then I turned, walked back to the car, and opened the rear door.
I slid into the back seat and sat there for a moment, breathing in the sterile air of the enclosed space, eyes fixed on the seat in front of me.
My voice cut through the silence, sharp and unfiltered.
"Get in the back with me."
There was a pause, long enough for the words to feel like a mistake. But I didn't take them back.
I wouldn't.
The door opened, I didn't look. I just felt the shift as Elias obeyed, the weight of his presence joining mine in the backseat. He didn't speak, he didn't ask why he was here.
He didn't need to.
I didn't touch him, not yet. I just sat there, breathing in the tension thickening the air between us.
He was close, close enough me to smell the scent of him; clean skin, danger. It hit me like a drug. My thighs pressed together involuntarily.
He hadn't moved, but I could feel the heat of him. He was always so still. So fucking composed, always the perfect soldier.
But I knew what was under that stillness now.
I remembered the way his mouth felt, the way his shoulders had trembled when I'd tugged his hair tight. The way he'd knelt and taken it without a word, the way he'd his tongue had probed and fucked me.
I wanted that again.
Not the man, not his loyalty, just his body. Just the relief.
The hum beneath my skin turned to a low, aching burn. My pulse thrummed in my neck, steady but rising. Still, I didn't make a move.
We just sat there, silence turning heavy, hungry, and electric.
And I knew, in the next moment that if I gave the word, if I so much as reached for him, he'd let me use him again. Just like
before.
But I didn't speak, not yet. The tension lingered, crackling, and growing.