Page 82 of Shackled By Shadows

I can feel the heat radiating from his skin, his heartbeat pulsing just beneath the surface, matching mine in a frantic rhythm. I don’t pull away. I don’t let go. “Let me hold it with you,” I whisper, echoing the words he once said to me in the depths of my own pain. “Just like you did for me. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

His eyes flutter open, and there is a vulnerability in them that makes my heart ache. “You’re already carrying so much,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a breath. “I can’t ask you to carry this, too.”

I am not asking. “I’m not giving you a choice,” I say, my voice firm yet gentle. “We’re in this together. Maybe we always have been, maybe this is how it was always supposed to be.” With a gentle pull, I kiss him again, this time slower, deeper, as if we are both trying to piece ourselves together in the warmth of the moment.

Chapter thirty-five

How It Works

For the first time since Oberon left, I actually sleep.

His presence is the only thing I need for comfort, despite the weight of the confession the night before and the lingering wariness I still feel about it. I know, deep down, that I will have to come to terms with what happened, with what he did. I told him I forgive him, that I understand, and part of me does. But there is a part of me, a quieter voice in the back of my mind, that still can’t fully reconcile the male I have come to care so deeply for with the prince who wears the crown.

When he put on that crown, I never imagined he could become someone so different. I know, deep down, that isn’t the person he has ever wanted to be.

He left because someone uncovered his secret, someone knows he is leading the rebellion, and he needed to determine just how much his father knew, if it had truly reached the throne, or if it was nothing more than a rumor. His father must have already caught wind of the whispers and forced Oberon to prove his loyalty by becoming the very thing he despised.

What this means for the future, I’m not sure. But for now, all we can do is keep moving forward.

When I wake the next morning, Oberon isn’t in bed beside me. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and rise, the chill of the room settling into my bones as I search for him.

I find him standing at the window, staring out into the distance, lost in deep thought.

The weight of everything seems to hang in the air around him, settling into every perfect line of his body, every taut muscle beneath his skin. I can feel the tension emanating from him, like he is carrying something far heavier than I can ever understand.

I know balancing both of these roles, the prince and the rebellion leader, is taking its toll on him. He always seemed to manage with such effortless ease.

This is different, what he has to do, what he has to live with. He has been tricked before, forced into a role he doesn’t choose, only now, it is by his own hand. This time, the burden is his own choice.

He doesn’t notice when I approach him, nor does he seem to realize I have even made it out of bed. When he finally turns to face me, he offers a half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

The dark circles under them are a stark reminder of how little sleep he has gotten.

How long has he been standing there, lost in his own thoughts?

He looks exhausted, drowning in guilt, and I can’t figure out how to save him. “Good morning,” I say, trying to muster a smile of my own, though it is harder than I expect.

He doesn’t respond, just turns fully to face me, his gaze hollow.

“Did you sleep?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. The exhaustion is written all over his face.

“No,” he replies quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I couldn’t.”

Without thinking, I reach up and cup his face, brushing a gentle kiss to his cheek. I wish I could take away whatever weighs him down, but for now, this is all I have to offer. “I’ll run you a bath and bring up some breakfast,” I say, the words sounding hollow even to me, but it is all I can do to try and care for him, even in the smallest way.

He nods, as his gaze shifts back to the window, lost in whatever dark thoughts haunted him all night.

Today will be a hard day. The rebellion council is calling for a debrief, an explanation of his actions. They all know who he is, what he has become, but he has never had to explain himself like this. I don’t think anyone ever expected him to. He is stuck between impossible choices, choices he now has to live with.

“The cage you can live with.” Those words, spoken to me so long ago, have weighed on me for what feels like an eternity. They have shaped every decision I’ve made. Now, I understand them better than I ever could before. The meaning behind those words feels like too much to bear. I didn’t realize then just how deeply those words would cut, just how much they would reflect the reality of our lives now.

We eat breakfast in mostly silence.

The male who left me just a week ago doesn’t feel like the same one who has returned. I can see the pain in his eyes, but he doesn’t let me in, not a hint, not a crack. He is a wall, built higher than before.

After breakfast, I head down first while he finishes getting ready, meeting Zander in the hall.

Zander had been with him. I wonder what he witnessed. Was he by Oberon’s side during the destruction? Or did he manage to keep his hands clean, distancing himself from whatever horrors unfolded?