Hades
The silence collapsed in on itself.
Cain took a step closer to Eve but kept his gaze locked on mine.
"You don't get to vouch for her now just because you remember how to feel."
I wanted to rip his tongue out. To shut him up before the room remembered too clearly the sins I hadn't yet paid for. But the worst part?
He wasn't lying.
The Flux screamed to strike, to rend, to silence. But I just stood there, watching Eve—begging her with my eyes to say it wasn't real. That this was some elaborate punishment. That Cain was a temporary wound. A ploy. Something I could outlast.
But she didn't say anything.
She didn't look at me.
She didn't have to.
Because I knew.
No...
She couldn't do this.
Cain turned back to the council.
"She needs someone in this room who won't flinch when the tide turns. Who doesn't look at her and see a ticking bomb or a blood sample."
"You have no authority here," Montegue snapped, voice clipped. "You are not in council."
