The chamber was too quiet after Jane's screams faded. Too quiet, except for Levi's ragged breathing and the faint drip of black blood onto stone. Her broken wings twitched against the floor, useless shadows of what they once were. She kept her head raised, waiting, listening, forcing herself to believe Jane would be brought back.
Minutes crawled by like hours.
Chains rattled as Levi shifted, her wrists raw and torn. Every nerve in her body screamed for her to fight, to rip free, to tear down walls with her bare hands—but the iron bindings held firm. All she could do was wait.
At last, footsteps echoed in the distance. She straightened, golden eyes burning with hope. The guards would bring Jane back. They had to.
But they didn't.
The sound veered away, fading into a side corridor. A heavy iron door slammed shut, bolts sliding with finality. Then came muffled voices—shouts, struggles—and the faint, broken cry of Jane before silence swallowed everything.
Levi froze. Her breath hitched, her heart seizing in her chest. "Jane!" she roared, her voice shaking the walls. "Jane!"
No reply. Only her echo, pitiless and hollow.
Shax emerged from the shadows, his wings stretching wide to fill the chamber. His eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction as he drank in the sight of her despair.
"Do you hear her, Leviathan?" His voice was smooth, taunting. "Your precious witch has her own chamber now. Alone. Broken. And you—" He gestured to her chains. "You can do nothing."
Levi's vision blurred with rage. Her hair flashed crimson at the roots, her eyes burning red as she strained against the restraints, the sound of tearing flesh filling the room. Black blood pooled beneath her knees, but still she fought.
"Monster!" she spat, her voice cracking with fury and grief. "Release her! Release her or I swear—"
"You swear?" Shax cut her off with a low chuckle, leaning close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath. His talon traced lazily along her jaw, tilting her face up toward his. "You are in no position to swear anything, queen of demons. You surrendered. That is all that matters."
Levi snarled, her teeth bared, her breath ragged.
"But I will tell you this," Shax went on, lowering his voice until it dripped like poison into her ears. "You were never my true target. Not your wings, not your crown, not your cursed pride. No, Leviathan… the one I will destroy is her. The witch. Piece by a fragile piece."
Her chains rattled violently as she lunged at him, the sound like thunder in the chamber. But still the iron held, biting deeper.
"Tomorrow," Shax whispered, brushing his talons along her broken wing just to make her shudder, "perhaps I'll let you hear her scream again. So you'll remember that her suffering is the price of your surrender."
With a sharp twist of his wings, he turned and strode toward the door. The heavy slam echoed like a death knell, leaving Levi alone in suffocating silence.
The dark pressed in, the stone cold beneath her bloodied hands. She bowed her head, tears streaking down her pale face. For the first time in eighteen centuries, Levi—queen of demons, who once commanded armies—felt powerless.
Not for herself.
For Jane.
And that was a wound deeper than any blade could cut.
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