MY SOULMATE

Within the fitting room of an upscale clothing boutique, I stood alongside Christian as he deliberated over outfit choices for me. Today, his attention was focused on selecting a dress. The dress I was presently trying on was a delicate shade of pink adorned with innumerable sequins and feathers cascading from its skirt. The price tag proclaimed a staggering sum of forty-six thousand dollars, but given the importance of the upcoming event, the cost was of no consequence.

Drawing back the curtain, I stepped out into the spacious store-a realm of opulence I had seldom encountered. Sunlight poured in from a skylight, illuminating the array of mirrors that enveloped me, granting me a comprehensive view of how I looked in the dress.

With a composed gait, Christian entered the room, carrying a white gown that could only be described as a wedding dress. For once, his countenance was stripped of any facade. His sharply pointed nose seemed emblematic of accumulated falsehoods, and his blond hair was styled in a spiky manner, reminiscent of Rogan's signature look. Sporting his characteristic nonchalant smile, he extended the dress to me, prompting me to try it on.

Accepting the gown from him, I found myself smiling involuntarily. "Are you really suggesting I try this on?" I inquired, my fingers tracing the elegant folds of the fabric. "Is this your way of proposing?"

His smirk emerged, daring me to defy convention. "I'm merely suggesting you give it a try," he replied, taking a step back and leaning against the doorway.

Turning away from him, I was about to retreat behind the curtain when his voice halted me in my tracks.

"No need to hide," he asserted.

"Pardon me?" I responded, perplexed.

"I said, there's no need to hide," he repeated, his gaze both patient and inquisitive, as though challenging my boundaries.

"I'd rather not be seen by the store attendants," I smoothly replied.

"Don't fret about them," he assured. "They've seen countless individuals without their garments. They're dressmakers, after all. Besides, they're engrossed in their tasks, unlikely to venture in here. We're alone. You can disrobe."

Though disconcerted, I was disinclined to back down. I desired to marry him-it was a declaration I had made sincerely. Averting my gaze, I discreetly undid the concealed zipper along the side of the pink gown, allowing it to cascade to the ground. Standing there in my bra and panties, I reached for the wedding dress.

Christian's smile bore an unfamiliar quality-a demeanor that I had never before witnessed.

What did that smile signify? It differed from the expression he wore when he provoked me to surpass my limitations or when we bade each other farewell. What emotions did that countenance encapsulate? Could it be pride?

My hands instinctively went to my chest, yet I perceived nothing as I attempted to slip my fingers between my ribs, seeking his heart within me-a heart akin to a captive star pulsating behind the bars of my ribcage.

A wave of panic surged, clouding my judgment. Christian's enigmatic grin intensified, an expression previously uncharted in my experience.

What intentions lay concealed behind that smile? It was not the same as the one he donned while urging me to transcend my confines. Nor was it akin to the smile he wore when bidding adieu. What did this expression entail? Could it signify a sense of accomplishment?

My hands reached for the expanse above my breasts, yet my fingertips encountered nothing but the hollow cavity where skin once resided-a sight of my bared ribcage enclosing a heart that throbbed, reminiscent of captive yearning.

At this juncture, my reverie transitioned beyond the realm of plausibility, yielding to the onset of wakefulness. The vivid imagery receded, replaced by the enveloping darkness. My surroundings became familiar-the chair positioned here, the bed oriented in this direction, and patches of soft light filtering through identifiable sources.

I found myself atop Tombstone Mountain within the castle designated to test the endurance of immortals. Amidst the darkness, I had envisioned a scenario wherein Christian's actions deviated from his true nature. He would never have subjected me to the provocation of undressing for his amusement or insisted that his heart within me equated to possession. This dream had metamorphosed into a nightmare, an inconceivable juxtaposition to my reality.

The metallic band that shackled me remained a constant presence, although its location had shifted. No longer clasped around my ankle as upon my initial arrival, it was now puncturing the skin amidst my Achilles tendon and ankle bones. I had managed to manipulate the band through skin, veins, and tendons with the aid of the Red Forest, but bypassing bone proved insurmountable. Thus, when a bullet had pierced my skull, my body had instinctively directed it away from bone, opting for alternative trajectories.

This inability to manipulate bone engendered a predicament-I had failed to heal completely the aperture in my skull through which the bullet had entered. Though all components were in their rightful places, the bone itself remained fragmented.

The question of why bone differed in behavior from the rest of my anatomy perplexed me. My efforts to fathom this distinction consumed considerable time within the Red Forest-an ethereal expanse resembling a bridge formed from bone. From this vantage point, I perceived the entirety of the silver band, suspended over terrain marked by crimson rivulets emblematic of my bloodstream. Alas, traversing bone proved elusive, thereby rendering me unable to manipulate the bullet-created aperture in my skull.

I puzzled over the inconsistency-why did bone elude my influence while other components yielded to my command? I contemplated the prospect of deliberately fracturing my ankle to extricate the band, yet I knew that Brandon, my captor, would intercede. His intervention would result in the band materializing around my alternate ankle, and my endeavor would necessitate commencing anew. Meanwhile, the initial fractured ankle and the bullet-engendered aperture in my skull would persist, unrepaired like fragments of an unresolved narrative.

Nightfall persisted beyond the castle's walls, its pervasive darkness a testament to the North's remote latitude. Unwilling to relinquish my captivity, Christian had yet to orchestrate my rescue. Akin to the duration of my wait at the hotel, when my aim was to attract his attention by fleeing the boarding school, my current circumstances, characterized by sporadic visitors, were bereft of amusement.

Occasionally, Brandon and Pricina materialized, their ethereal presence infused with the semblance of grandeur. Pricina would conjure panes of glass within the room, expanding them until they spanned the entire space, affording her and Brandon access. At times, their entry was seamless, accomplished via doorways; in other instances, they would reconfigure stone, fabricating entrances. These blocks of stone shifted fluidly and incongruously, much like my manipulation of cellular structures within the Red Forest. Seated at ease, they would await my interaction.

The ensuing dialogue maintained a predictable pattern, revolving around the Red Forest.

"Have you ventured into the Red Forest?" Brandon's question would invariably launch

the discourse.

"You've been monitoring me, hence you're already aware," my response remained steadfast.

In the sanctuary of the Red Forest, I allocated substantial time, situated atop my bone bridge. This vista encompassed the entirety of the silver band, spanning the crimson-hued landscape representing my bloodstream. The ring, interwoven within the bridge of bone, hovered above this terrain, symbolizing the access point to a realm imbued with mysteries.

The inquiries persisted, as Brandon sought to compel me towards a predetermined course of action.

"Why do you not explore Christian's heart within the Red Forest?" Brandon inquired, shedding the pretense of his erstwhile Scottish accent. His speech now bore an unfamiliar cadence, a feature more alienating than his prior muteness. In his novel vocalization, he persisted, "It holds the repository of Christian's knowledge."

My eyes rolled in response, my distaste for this subject a palpable undercurrent. This discourse proved taxing, for Brandon and Pricina coveted knowledge distinct from that which Christian possessed within his heart. Their pursuit transcended the confines of Christian himself; their objectives were of greater complexity and scope.

"If you enter his heart, you shall gain insights paramount to your objectives," Brandon postulated, endeavoring to exude persuasiveness.

Yet, this overture did not resonate with me. This discussion had recurred over months, prompting a concurrent dimming of the castle's illumination. My abduction had transpired during the waning days of summer, with autumn yielding to the equinox and my own birthday. Now, as the winter solstice drew nearer, night shrouded the landscape like the enigma of outer space.

Resentment welled within me. Brandon and Pricina were subjects of my disdain, their logic serving as a source of repugnance. Stubbornly, I withheld my consent, an unyielding refusal to capitulate to their designs.

My psyche emanated a vehement antipathy towards them-a sentiment directed towards both Brandon and Pricina. Despite their unprecedented abilities, Pricina remained an enigma-a tranquil observer devoid of allegiance. As for Brandon, his purpose was to preserve the integrity of the glass barrier. This metaphorical glass maintained its form regardless of the destructive endeavors I undertook-chairs hurled, lamps launched, and even my own body offered as an instrument of defiance.

Her presence, consistent and graceful, impelled me to recognize her function.

"Why her presence?" I inquired, my tone imbued with accusation. "Is she necessary to reinforce the glass?"

"She serves as an exemplar for you," Brandon responded, a veneer of reasonability gracing his words.

While skeptical of his explanation, I refrained from voicing disbelief, concealing my skepticism beneath the veneer of acceptance. To cultivate clarity, I questioned Brandon further.

"Must you rely on her to manipulate the glass? Can you not achieve this yourself?"

"Um," he answered, momentarily disarmed.

Indeed, my observation had unveiled a deficiency-I discerned that Brandon lacked the capacity to manipulate the glass or reshape the castle's stonework.

Her presence epitomized a lesson: that unity between two immortal entities necessitated the exchange of corporeal fragments. I resided as the tokenized vessel, a repository of Christian's heart and mysteries.

Yet, I remained steadfast in my defiance. The conversations with Brandon perpetuated, his discourse unceasing.

"You should not be averse to traversing Christian's heart within the Red Forest," he proposed, his accent accentuating his message. "It is a sacred realm to which you possess entitlement. You are his wife."

This declaration resurfaced consistently, stoking my anger. Unyielding, I contested his assertion.

"He never married me!" I retorted vehemently. "He proposed marriage, and had you allowed a few more hours to transpire, the union might have materialized. Alas, that was not the case!" My vehemence grew as I continued.

Brandon's endeavors to sway me persisted, employing logic that gnawed at my patience. Unyielding, I withheld any concessions, defending the sanctity of Christian's heart within the Red Forest.

"Bring Christian here," I challenged, the resentment in my voice palpable. "If he avows me as his wife and welcomes my presence within his heart, then I shall comply. However, his affirmation is absent; thus, I remain skeptical. Bring him forth, and let us enact a ceremony-conducted in a language I comprehend-affirming our union. Then, I shall acquiesce to your demands."

Brandon's demeanor shifted in response-discomfort evident in his countenance. If he and Pricina possessed knowledge of Christian's location, it remained undisclosed, for their objectives differed from my own. Their designs revolved around me, not him.

My resolve remained unyielding, for I would not relinquish any part of myself to their machinations.

All of the screaming was about the bone in my ankle. Brandon instructed me repeatedly that the statistics they sought from Christian's coronary heart become especially associated with getting the hoop round my ankle via the bone. If I would prevent being so difficult and go to the heart, I'd discover the statistics, after which any chains located around me now, or inside the destiny, might be meaningless. in keeping with Brandon, I'd discover ways to escape from anywhere, even the citadel that surrounded me.

Apart from escaping their awful fort, I had no concept why they desired me to gain that capability. Brandon didn't give an explanation for something. He just sought to influence me to go to the heart.

"Go to his heart."

"Beat the door down."

"Burrow internal."

"Devour what's there."

"It's your heart now."

I felt unwell.

As I cited, I celebrated my twenty-2nd birthday by myself within the fort. At least, I guessed I'd had my birthday. I wasn't overly interested by what day it turned into anymore. Brandon didn't point out it and it didn't count lots.

Even without going to Christian's heart, I won piles of know-how from the purple woodland. Given that I found out my electricity over my frame, I modified some thing about it I didn't like. Moles disappeared, hair fell out or grew extra plentifully, as I desired. Muscle groups grew and fats disappeared. When I made changes, I discovered it was genuinely impossible to hit the nail at the head. I had been given perfect manipulate over my frame and I couldn't determine what became actually ideal when I appeared in the mirror. I fiddled with my appearance constantly, in particular my upper arms. What looked suitable after I seemed down at them become a lot one-of-a-kind than what looked appropriate once I checked out myself in a reflect.

Other than fiddling inside the purple wooded area, there wasn't much to do in the citadel. There was a bath with a skylight over it, so I often stuffed the bath with hot soapy water, turned off the lighting fixtures, and gazed into outer area.

Of all of the rooms I may want to get right of entry to inside the citadel without moving stone, the kitchen became the least thrilling. It wasn't because it wasn't lovely. It changed into. It became just that it have been stocked with food that did now not make absolutely everyone's mouth water. There was powdered milk, condensed milk in cans, rice, flour, and different canned food. The canned meals changed into as exciting as canned meals were given, which means I ate olives out of the bottle, mandarin oranges, and pie filling. I supposed I had the elements to make a pie. If I had recognized how to make a pie, that probably could had been the best component I should have made.

Besides, I didn't understand a way to make something with the substances they supplied with out a recipe books, so I watched the snow fall and ate pickled beets from the jar. I was very bored. I might have commenced writing on the walls in blood if the partitions hadn't been hewn out of rough stone. It wouldn't have had any effect on Brandon or Pricina anyway. Pricina could change something she desired.

That morning I had cream of wheat, made with water and I honestly hated it. I ended up opening a can of pears that I had been saving as it depressed me so much.

When I used to be finished, I tugged my chain, dragging it noisily across the polished marble, and got back into mattress. I wrapped the blankets round me cocoon-fashion and closed my eyes. I wasn't going to sleep. I was going to strive once more with my ankle in the purple woodland.

I went there every day without fail. I closed my eyes and disappeared into the location in the back of my eyelids. It changed into a place wherein the sky became brown. The timber grew with slick crimson bark and no leaves. I wore a black get dressed that fell over my shape as readily as a nightgown. It turned into the location I went for a cut up second earlier than I died, and due to the fact i was inclined to make sense of what I noticed, i used to be able to stop a bullet from killing me-the pink forest.

On the spot wherein the hoop pierced my ankle, I sat at the chrome ring. I swung on it adore it became a circus swing and pounded my figurative fists towards the ivory wall that become my ankle bone adore it was a door that might now not open. I asked blood insects that floated by means of what they knew, however they best knew what I knew: bones had been no longer blood. Bones were blood factories.

That was the problem I have been considering when I went to sleep and dreamed of the dearest guy within the world, Christian, asking me to undress for him. The dream had not been inspiring. That turned into not the manner Christian ever handled me. My subconscious made him that manner because I had been trapped for goodbye.

What turned into Christian like again? Could I remember? Sometimes he felt like some thing I had imagined because the whole thing inside the actual global sucked.

When I attempted to ask the Christian in my memory what he would do about Brandon, he didn't say a phrase. He only looked at me levelly with that appearance in his eyes as though to invite me if there has been something he wouldn't do.

That changed into the crux. Christian could do something. Cut off his hand? Reduce out his heart? He could do truly something. He had no limits.

If I was going to be like him, would I should supply away my limits too?

I often idea approximately escaping the fortress. It was probable viable... to a sure diploma. I could spoil my ankle to get the hoop off. Possibly breaking the chain the ring was related to was a higher way, however I had every motive to believe that if a link turned into broken, it would convey Pricina down on me. Breaking my ankle might probably work higher, however could I be able to heal it, get away the fort, and make it to protection before Pricina caught me? My possibilities were poor.

The terrain out of doors the fort become the most harsh on earth. A bullet to the head was one factor, however loads of miles of snow-capped mountains were something else. I couldn't open a window and the out of doors temperature became a mystery. It could be the sort of climate wherein human beings misplaced hands and ears.

Brandon and Pricina had orchestrated this state of affairs so that I had no other manner forward, like a mouse in a tunnel in place of a maze.

If I endured to resist going to Christian's coronary heart, what end would there be?

This was damnation. So long as i used to be within the fort, I was damned.

Once I looked at the remaining roads beforehand of me, I saw 3 paths. Christian might try to rescue me. Without the secrets and techniques he hid in his heart, there was no part of him that changed into as powerful as Pricina. If he had once had energy like that at his disposal, he wouldn't have wished me to help him retrieve Brandon's head from the compound. He

could have been capable of do this himself with out losing a hand. He wasn't sturdy enough to rescue me.

Secondly, Brandon may surrender on me and allow me cross. I snorted. He wasn't going to get worn-out. He wasn't going to think it wasn't really worth his effort to maintain operating on me. He become immortal. He had time to spare and he'd scouse borrow all of my time if I permit him preserve me locked up.

Thirdly, there was chaos. Something unexpected may set me loose.

When I notion that, I found out that I had reached the cease of opportunities, besides the one Brandon suggested.

I had to do what Brandon said without letting him know. I had to sneak into Christian's coronary heart and while i used to be loose, I'd chop off Brandon's head again. It became out that I favored him better without it. Rolling my eyes, I amended my notion. Maybe taking his whole head become overkill. I'd reduce his tongue out at least. I wasn't a barbarian.

I swung up and leaped off the ring. Gravity was like a dream inside the red woodland, and that i floated until I landed at the pads of my unchained ft on the bone bridge. Swinging my steps like a little girl who wasn't in a rush, I walked the long way through the red wooded area, all of the way from my ankle to Christian's coronary heart. The stroll, even though imaginary, did me precise. It gave me time to think.

When I arrived at the vicinity of Christian's coronary heart, the sky above became almost stormy. Clouds crafted from the new air in my lungs additionally made this part of me darker than the rest. The first thing I felt was a hot wind. The world inside me became a damp woodland in which i was the queen of everything. I noticed bugs, once in a while small animals scurrying on commercial enterprise of their own, a perpetual purple night time and not using a moon and no stars. The black flounces of my skirt flapped around my legs like flags within the wind. I stood at the outskirts of the purple forest, staring at into a clearing.

I stood outside Christian's coronary heart. Before I arrived, I imagined his coronary heart acting as a wooded area inside a wooded area, denser and darker. It became nothing of the sort. It became a building like a shrine or a temple. It had a sloped tile roof and no home windows.

In the front of me become a stone path of flat black stones. They regarded to be floating in a pool of blood surrounding the shrine. The blood stirred find it irresistible couldn't live nonetheless as it lived to shape little peaks at the floor of the pool.

I positioned my black ballerina slipper on the primary stone and progressed onto the stepping stones that made me cross blood.

As I were given closer, the wind came warmer and quicker. i was feeling my blood pump, now not a wind, however it felt hot as I breathed it. again, I was in a place I have to not had been. I had emerge as a person who lived completely in locations people did now not cross. A regular person is not allowed to appearance internal the coronary heart of their lover, as it's miles their center, and no region may be greater sacred or holy.

It had to be mine now.

As I stood there, I felt a fresh wash of hatred closer to Brandon. He was forcing something that by no means must have been pressured. If Christian intended me to have access to all of this, he in no way got the threat to inform me. I may were justifying myself, but I instructed myself that if Christian cherished me so much that he became inclined to surrender his coronary heart so that I ought to have lifestyles, I knew he changed into willing to give up even greater for my freedom. I had to placed aside the imperfection of the scenario and swallow or I'd be a prisoner forever. I knew, genuinely, that living in the fort was no longer what Christian desired for me.

I stepped over the threshold into the primary chamber of his heart.

Black beams stretched throughout the ceiling. Heavy black posts held up the roof. The ground was carpeted with layer after layer of high priced pink carpets. Following the lengths of carpets, they led to a throne. Christian occupied it.

In my exhilaration, I known as his name, but immediately I found out he couldn't pay attention me. His eyes had been closed. He was dressed absolutely in dark purple: pink shoes, purple trousers, a crimson vest, and a barely open pink blouse. He wore a crown on his head, a unmarried circlet of pewter that contrasted this blond hair. It hung loosely, tipping closer to one eye.

I wanted to wake him and speak to him, however suddenly I felt it was higher to apprehend every room before I disturbed him. I held my peace and proceeded similarly into the shrine.

Within the second chamber, I was amazed to peer Christian again. This time he became mendacity on a slab of black stone. He wasn't dressed however had a very long piece of black silk draped over his groin that fell to the floor on both aspect. He had spherical black stones organized in patterns across his chest, hands, and face. Two stones rested on his eyes and some other over his mouth.

The room had a reflect on the wall. I looked at myself in it. I was thrilled with what I noticed. It wasn't the manner I noticed myself when I appeared into a replicate. those mirrors continually confirmed me what was wrong with me, what became incomplete. My mirrored image right here have to display the way Christian saw me. This replicate confirmed love. I swelled with emotion. The dream I had earlier turned into a distortion of the greatness of the person I cherished.

I persisted on.

Through the third room, I anticipated to peer a new edition of Christian there. He was hanging from a rope from the ceiling. Not by way of his neck, but by using his proper arm. The rope wasn't tied to him. He turned into not placing there due to the fact he changed into trapped. His arms had been knotted tightly across the rope like he wouldn't permit go irrespective of what came about next. He was tattooed everywhere with phrases. I couldn't study them and that i couldn't discover a part of his body that changed into not written on. I needed to circle him to locate his face. It became marred via masses of phrases tattooed in black ink. I could make out many of the letters, however I could not distinguish even one complete word. He wore trousers like a doctor's scrubs, with a white cotton undershirt marked within the occasional bloodstain.

A pool of water turned into under him. If he allow go of the rope, he might fall into the water. What became terrible approximately the water? I were given down on my knees and dipped my palms inside the dancing ripples. I understood much less than I had before as I shook off the water. How deep changed into it? There didn't seem to be a bottom. Thrusting my arm inside the water up to my shoulder, I couldn't locate the bottom. I thought of jumping in however refrained. This turned into a sacred location, no longer an area where you splashed round for fun or curiosity.

In the remaining chamber, there has been a pole in the center of the room. Christian was tied to it

. His palms were wrapped around the mast and his wrists have been closely tethered. His ankles were tied too. There has been a gag in his mouth and a blindfold over his eyes. He wore weathered denims and a white get dressed blouse that became barely completed up. With such a lot of cords wrapped around his wrists, it changed into tough to inform which ones were retaining him captive and which were a style announcement.

Not one of the versions of Christian moved. None of them fluttered an eyelash. I walked again through the chambers of his coronary heart and puzzled what each of the figures supposed. If I were guessing, i'd say that he needed to be strapped down, silenced, blindfolded, and subconscious in order for him to stay all the time. He informed me he had to overlook who he changed into with a purpose to bear the ache of immortality. Did these guys constitute lives he'd lived? Or some thing else absolutely?

As I contemplated at the trouble, i discovered myself inside the second chamber. I saw the model of Christian that lay at the altar with shining river rocks placed strategically over his eyes and down his body.

Suddenly, I notion that I must try to wake him.

"Christian," I said.

Nothing passed off.

I attempted his actual call, "Damon."

I used to be approximately to yell when I found out that if my presence and my voice didn't wake him, then my screaming really wouldn't.

He had rocks all over him. What if I took them off?

I reached forward and plucked one of the stones off his abdomen. It uncovered the prettiest patch of tan pores and skin and curved muscle below. I turned the rock over in my hand and saw there become a word etched in gold on the bottom. It resembled one of these pretty inspirational stones I'd seen in present shops that moms bought that had phrases like faith or love written on them. Christian's stone bore the phrase manipulate.

Instantly, I felt that I should no longer have picked it up.

I attempted to put the stone returned, but it'd not move returned. there was an invisible pressure stopping me from returning it. I turned the rock in my hand and attempted to figure out what I should do with it. on the facet that have been clean new words seemed. The words study swallow me.

That simply appeared like the worst thing I ought to do or ought to do. I shouldn't swallow a rock.

I attempted to set the stone down in a exceptional location on Christian's skin, but each vicinity repelled the rock even harder. i was beginning to panic. I attempted to drop it on the ground, however it stuck to my palms like a magnet. It slipped throughout my pores and skin with out letting go.

I pulled at it with both arms and when that failed, I attempted to use my chin to push it loose and changed into straight away extra a success than my fingers were. Yet, not completely. It was coming free, but it hadn't permit go. In my frenzy to push it off, my mouth become a touch open and the stone brushed my lips. understanding my mistake, I dropped my fingers and licked my lips as a reflex, only to taste some thing I'd in no way tasted before.

impossible to describe, it become candy, however also savory. I probable would now not had been so interested by the taste of that stone if I had been given whatever higher to devour by way of Brandon and Pricina. They knew the trials I faced and that they fed me lackluster meals a good way to make me crave something delicious. The vacancy in my belly, which hadn't bothered me a good deal seeing that I got here to the castle, turned into unexpectedly insufferable.

I wouldn't devour it. It changed into a rock. It become not food. I ought to not have picked it up, but I couldn't put it back. I informed myself that the rock could drop off me if I attempted to leave the constructing with it in hand. I went to the door and flung it open. The rock went with me as I stepped onto the first stepping stone. dropping to my knees, I placed my hands within the pool of my very own blood to interrupt the bond the stone had with my pores and skin.

It didn't work.

I'd failed and the stone consumed my thoughts in order that I could not pay attention sufficient to leave the red wooded area and awaken in bed.

I went returned in the shrine.

What I felt became all wrong. I shouldn't want to devour it.

I don't realize how many hours passed as I sat on my own inside the second chamber of Christian's coronary heart earlier than I caved. I didn't want to, but I never felt so satisfied in my life as i used to be the moment I put that rock in my mouth and bit down on some thing soft and delicious. manipulate tasted better than anything else I'd ever tasted. I felt warmth slide down my throat and the instant it hit my belly, some thing unexpected occurred.

I knew how to flow bone.

I ran from the constructing and that i didn't forestall jogging until I made it to my ankle wherein I saw the chrome ring exactly in which I'd left it. Stepping up to the location in my bone, I took my finger and scored out the segment that needed to flow. when I completed I stepped again and snapped my fingers. The segment of bone fell apart like lego blocks. I ordered my tendons to push the hoop via just like the strings of a suspension bridge shifting in all the wrong methods.

Then I dropped to my knees and slowly, by hand, I rebuilt the bone bridge piece by means of piece. It turned into now not like the different parts of the frame that would bend and trade. As a bone, its feature turned into to stay nonetheless, no longer to move. I had been right. if you desired bone to transport, you had to break it, but now not the clumsy manner I had been contemplating going approximately it. You needed to do it carefully.

There had been bones that had to be rebuilt. It was now not the quick fix it have been whilst my father shot me inside the head. It was a cautious rebuild that took hours, maybe even days.

after I slid the closing piece of bone into region, I lower back to my senses in the fortress and determined the hoop that had saved me captive abandoned between the sheets of my bed.

I grabbed it triumphantly. Then I panicked. I shouldn't have taken it off. Brandon could recognise I'd made progress. He knew I couldn't determine it out on my own, and i hated to give him the pride.

I grabbed a scrunchie from my bedside table and twisted it across the ring. Then I slipped the loop of the scrunchie around my ankle. Then, at least, the chain would move with me till I ought to positioned the hoop again thru my ankle. If i was fortunate, Brandon wouldn't observe my progress.

I was so excited. Brandon wouldn't understand if I repaired the bullet hole in my cranium. understanding it become there had made me pretty uncomfortable. sadly, I couldn't do something simply then, i was too tired.

I fell asleep and as I slept there was a moon and stars inside the crimson woodland of my dreams.

Awakening the next morning, I found Brandon and Pricina on the other side of the glass partition that Pricina had conjured. Their faces were frozen masks, observing me.

I concealed my ankle with the scrunchie beneath me and decided not to budge until I had reattached the metal ring through my ankle bone. I couldn't let them perceive the progress I'd achieved... unless they already knew.

"Have you managed to locate Christian yet?" I inquired with a hint of sarcasm.

Their response was silence, their stares unrelenting. Did they possess awareness of my actions?

"Are you even making an effort to find him?" I pressed again.

Brandon cleared his throat and began, "I believe we might have made an error by not elucidating the broader perspective to you."

Impatiently, I nodded. "Could we possibly skip talking today? Is that at all feasible? Can the two of you simply depart and preferably never return? I'm fairly certain I'd choose to perish today rather than engage with you again, Brandon." This was not my usual demeanor with them. Never before had I alluded to death or my desire for it.

This visibly unsettled Brandon, his eye twitching involuntarily.

Conversely, Pricina's reaction was different. For the first time, she smiled. The emotion underlying her expression remained elusive. Was it joy? Or something else?

Brandon stumbled, his eyes reflecting a sense of horror. "After surviving a bullet to the head? How do you envision your death now? Are you imagining that you'll expire if we cease returning, and you run out of provisions?"

"The food you've been giving me is awful. I haven't complained because I assumed it was part of your elaborate scheme. Provide me with subpar sustenance, generate desperation, and manipulate me into compliance. I want you gone. I'll consume the food or not, but with access to the Red Forest, I'm quite certain I needn't eat anymore. It's merely a luxury, and with luxuries like powdered milk and quick oats available, why should I value your generosity?"

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "I see. We've been excessively harsh on you. We should have demonstrated more convincingly that we're your allies."

I let out a scornful snort upon hearing the word 'allies'. Nothing they'd done since my arrival bore the slightest resemblance to friendship. They had subjected me to a form of humane torture, while also forcibly separating me from Christian, which incensed me.

"It's just that this location is remote, and procuring supplies here is quite challenging," Brandon explained, persisting with his discussion about food.

"I have no interest in your explanations or your feeble offer of camaraderie. We are not friends. I don't need to eat, and you don't need to intrude here. I detest listening to your discourse," I declared, the tinge of malice in my tone minimized, as I'd already discovered that throwing tantrums yielded minimal results.

"Would you converse with her?" he queried, indicating Pricina.

"If she's going to echo your drivel, I'd prefer not to," I retorted bluntly.

"I won't," Pricina responded crisply.

With a decisive gesture, she employed her matter manipulation to dissolve the floor beneath Brandon, causing him to plummet through the gaps along with his chair. He let out a scream, but Pricina sealed the aperture and quashed the sound.

"He won't be harmed," she affirmed, motioning for a chair from another room to glide into my chamber and seat her. The chair's movement was peculiar, almost as if it was guided by invisible tracks. Its motions were mechanical and jerky. Pricina assumed a graceful posture upon settling down and directed her gaze toward me.

I returned her gaze, curious despite myself.

She broke eye contact and peered out the window, where the snow-clad mountain slopes were illuminated solely by my window's light. "Did he inform you that he's my spouse?"

"Brandon?" I asked, relieved since there were no other men present.

She nodded, displaying an expression of exasperation by biting her lower lip. "He's considerably younger than me. He's merely three hundred years old, whereas I am somewhere between fifteen hundred and seventeen hundred. He believed he could communicate more effectively with you, given the history he shares with you and Christian. However, it's evident he failed, leaving me to try." Her neck emitted a series of cracks as she turned her head to the side.

The glass sheet partition between us reshaped itself into a transparent bishop piece, positioned beside her. The piece was enlarged, rising slightly above her head, resembling a chess piece, yet much larger.

"That's quite an interesting talent," I commented, for once, my tone lacking the usual disgust that accompanied my speech when addressing them.

She commenced her explanation slowly. "I suspect your hesitation to enter Christian's heart stems from your upbringing, which likely instilled in you a belief in certain inviolable boundaries within our world. You probably hold the notion of property, do you not? A piece of land belongs to an individual, and thus it's theirs. In your situation, you're hesitant to delve into Christian's heart because his secrets are not yours. It's akin to being back in his estate in Scotland, where all the books are locked away. Had those books not been behind glass, would you have read them?"

I recalled my frustration, my desire to know everything about him, to read every book he'd read, and to experience a fragment of his emotions. Yet, everything was inaccessible to me, concealed behind locked doors.

"It's akin to that," she continued in a composed, measured voice. "He didn't grant you access to the shelves of his library. In fact, he placed the library within you. That's what his heart is. It embodies every facet of him that you've ever yearned to comprehend. But he didn't offer you his heart merely as a pumping mechanism for your blood, although it's performed that function for you." She paused. "If you're having trouble grasping the concept, consider Christian's heart like a locked library. It's his repository of knowledge, and the key to unlocking it is through understanding."

And I listened as she spoke, desperately struggling not to feel moved by her words.