The great chamber Caelum had set aside for the wounded girl was one of the manor's smaller guest rooms—stone walls draped in soft curtains to keep out the morning chill, the scent of clean linen and faint herbal smoke hanging in the air. The door was shut, and only four people were inside: Lilith, Elias, Caelum, and the Thorne household's healer.
Veyra lay on the bed, Caelum's cloak still covering most of her body. Even so, her breathing was shallow, and every rise of her chest looked like a struggle. The healer's hands moved with quiet urgency as she peeled away the fabric.
The smell hit first. Copper and rot, old blood gone black at the edges.
Beneath the cloak, her body was a map of torment. Rope burns circled her wrists and ankles, the skin there rubbed raw and scabbed over in uneven ridges. Long, whip-like scars cut across her back and sides—some faded to pale silver, others still livid and swollen. One lash had bitten deep enough to leave a jagged tear that had scabbed poorly, oozing yellow pus where the flesh refused to knit.
Her ribs jutted out under skin mottled with bruises—purple, black, and sickly green. A nasty gash ran from her hip to the curve of her thigh, clumsily stitched with thread that had long since frayed, edges crusted with dried blood.
The worst, however, were her eyes. Or rather, what had been done to them.
The black cloth was cut away, revealing twin pits of ruined flesh. The eyelids were split in jagged lines, crusted over in places with dried infection, the inner tissue angry and red. Thick, milky pus seeped from the corners, tracing down the side of her face. The smell of decay there was sharp enough to sting the nostrils.
Her eyeballs, surprisingly, were still there. But their color had been gone and it was clear that they were not functioning anymore.
Elias's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He looked as though he might be sick.
The healer worked in silence, cleansing the wounds with steaming cloths, pouring thin streams of glowing water magic into the worst injuries. The infected lash across her flank hissed faintly as the rot burned away under her touch. For her eyes, she only worked to clean the infection—there was no restoring sight when the damage was that deep.
At least within her capabilities. A much more powerful healer might fix her sight.
"She will live," the healer murmured finally, voice low but certain. "Though it will take time before she can walk without pain."
Veyra stirred at the sound, her cracked lips parting. Her head tilted slightly in Lilith's direction. Though the girl could not see, there was a faint shift in the air around her—an almost imperceptible stillness, as if she were listening to something beyond the room.
Lilith stepped closer, her tone calm but edged with command. "You can speak?"
"Yes…" The word was a whisper, drawn out like it cost her something to give.
"Tell me how you came to be here."
There was no hesitation, only the hollow rhythm of a voice worn down to truth.
"I lived… in a village. Far outside the cities. With my kind." Her breath rattled, and she paused as if choosing how much to say. "Then… the Church came. They called it cleansing. Burned homes. Cut down everyone. I… ran."
Lilith's gaze didn't soften, but her eyes narrowed faintly. "And then?"
"They caught me. Not the Church. Others. Slavers." She swallowed, the movement pulling at the wounds on her throat. "They… trained me. Whips. Ropes. Knives. Food when they wished it. Pain when they wished more." Her voice cracked but didn't rise. "They said my eyes were… unnatural. So they cut them. Left the rot to grow."
Elias exhaled sharply through his nose, but Lilith's expression remained unreadable.
"And why come here?" she asked.
Veyra's head turned slightly toward her, though the ruined eyes never truly focused. "I heard her. The Goddess. In my head. Said to run. Said someone would come. And when I heard that they were planning to cut off my horns and ears..." She then stopped talking, closing her eyes.
Lilith's lips pressed together in thought. She glanced to Caelum, who was standing like a shadow by the wall, his gaze measuring, alert.
He inclined his head slightly. "We cannot keep her here without risk, but… this is your decision, my lady."
Lilith returned her attention to the broken girl before her. "You'll stay here until you can walk again. You'll speak to no one but us. Do you understand?"
Veyra nodded once, small and almost imperceptible.
"Good." Lilith stepped back. "Caelum."
As Caelum shifted to lift her, Elias stepped closer to Lilith, fingers brushing her sleeve in a silent request for privacy. When she leaned toward him, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"This is dangerous," he said, eyes flicking toward the bed. "The Church has been hunting demi-humans for years. They don't care if someone's guilty of anything. If they find her here, they won't just take her—they'll brand the entire household as traitors to the faith. And traitors don't get trials, Lilith. They get burned."
Lilith's gaze didn't waver from Veyra. "I'm aware of the risk, Elias. I weighed it before I gave the order."
He frowned, voice sharpening. "And you decided it was worth gambling everyone's necks?"
Her emerald eyes finally turned to meet his. "No gamble. I make the rules under this roof, and this is my decision. You can question it, but you will stand by it."
Elias exhaled through his nose, his expression torn between frustration and reluctant loyalty. "Then we'd better make sure no one outside this room ever finds out."
Her lips curved faintly, but not in amusement. "Exactly. And that includes you not letting your temper spill in front of anyone else."
Caelum moved forward, lifting the girl as though she weighed nothing. She didn't resist, only rested limply against him, her head turning faintly toward the sound of his heartbeat.
The healer gathered her tools, and the door was opened. The scent of blood and herbs trailed into the corridor as they left the chamber behind.