Chapter 7
Eileen's POV
The next morning, I returned to the cave with fresh supplies—clean clothes and dried food. When I stepped through the vines, I froze.
Cassius was standing in the middle of the cave, shirtless, his back to me. The horrible wound on his chest—the one that had been seeping black corruption just yesterday—was completely healed. Only a faint silver scar remained, a thin line across his pale skin.
His skin seemed to glow in the morning light filtering through the cave entrance, an unnatural luminescence that made him look like something carved from moonstone. His silver-white hair fell loose over his shoulders, and when he turned to face me, I felt my breath catch.
His eyes looked exactly like the dragon from my dreams.
Those deep, fathomless eyes. That aura of otherworldly power, barely restrained beneath human skin. The resemblance was undeniable.
"You're here," he said, his voice calm but distant.
I forced myself to move forward, setting down my bundle. "Your wound..."
He glanced down at his chest, his brow furrowing slightly. "Slower than I expected."
Because your heart is missing, I thought, guilt twisting in my stomach. Because I have it.
He looked up at me, his expression unreadable. "I want to leave this cave. I want to see the outside world. Staying here feels... wrong."
My heart dropped. No. You can't leave. Not yet.
But I couldn't say that. If I tried to control him too obviously, he'd grow suspicious. So I forced myself to stay calm.
"Your wound has healed," I said carefully, "but your body is still weak. The world outside might be more dangerous than you think."
He frowned, considering my words.
"If you really want to go," I continued, "I can take you. I know this city. I know which places are safe and which ones to avoid."
He studied me for a long moment, and I held my breath.
Finally, he nodded. "All right. I trust you."
Trust. The word felt like a knife.
We left the cave together. I'd arranged for the carriage to meet us at the base of the mountain, and Cassius climbed in without hesitation. The carriage began to move.
The carriage rolled into the city through the eastern gate. I'd planned our route carefully—through the quieter streets, avoiding the main squares where Sanctum patrols were heaviest. But when we reached the gate, a guard in silver armor stepped forward, blocking our path.
"Silver Day," he announced coldly. "The Sanctum is conducting routine heretic inspections. East Gate is closed. All vehicles must detour through the city center plaza."
My stomach dropped. I leaned out the window and called to the driver, "Take the west gate! Go around—"
"West gate's closed too, miss," the driver called back. "Center plaza's the only way through."
I sank back into my seat, trying to reassure myself that nothing would happen.
The carriage turned toward the city center. As we approached the plaza, I saw the massive statue in the distance again—a ten-meter-tall silver dragon, wings spread wide. Its eyes gazed down on the crowd with cold, eternal judgment.
I gripped the edge of the window frame, my knuckles turning white.
Then we passed directly beneath the statue.
For one heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the entire statue exploded with silver light.
A blinding pillar of radiance shot up from the dragon's form, piercing the sky, visible for miles in every direction. The air itself seemed to hum with power, vibrating with a frequency that made my bones ache.
Every person in the plaza—merchants, guards, nobles, commoners—dropped to their knees as one. Hands clasped in prayer. Heads bowed.
The carriage driver fell to his knees on his seat. "Great Silver Dragon, thank You for this miracle..."
My mind went blank. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. I turned slowly toward Cassius.
He was staring at the statue, his expression utterly confused. But there was something else in his eyes—a flicker of recognition, like he was looking at something he should know but couldn't quite remember.
I didn't give myself time to process that. I shoved open the carriage door and grabbed his arm. "We need to go. Now."
We stumbled through the kneeling crowd, people too lost in their prayers to notice us. I pulled Cassius toward the western edge of the plaza, toward what looked like a less crowded area—
And then I heard it. The thunder of hooves. The clang of armor.
The Silver Sanctum's knights had arrived.
A dozen riders in gleaming silver plate, dragon-bone lances held high, poured into the plaza. At their head rode an Inquisitor in white robes, his face hidden beneath a silver mask.
"By order of the Silver Sanctum," the Inquisitor's voice boomed across the plaza, "this area is now sealed! All citizens will remain in place for questioning! Anyone attempting to flee will be branded a heretic!"
My breath came in short, panicked gasps. I looked around frantically. There—a narrow alley on the far side of the plaza, not yet blocked by knights. If we ran now—
Cassius suddenly staggered, his hand flying to his head. He let out a low, pained sound.
"Cassius?!" I grabbed his shoulders. "What's wrong?!"
His pupils dilated, silver light flickering in their depths. His whole body went rigid, like he'd been struck by lightning.
I didn't wait to see what was happening. The knights were moving through the crowd now, questioning people, checking faces. We had seconds at most.
I wrapped my arm around Cassius's waist and half-dragged, half-carried him toward the alley. He was too disoriented to resist, stumbling alongside me as we lurched forward.
We made it to the alley just as one of the knights turned in our direction. I yanked Cassius into the shadows and kept running, plunging deeper into the maze of narrow streets that made up the city's poorest district.
We didn't stop until we were deep in the slums, surrounded by crumbling buildings and the stench of refuse. I finally let go of Cassius and leaned against a wall, my chest heaving.
Cassius pressed his palms against his temples, his face pale and slick with sweat.
"What happened to you?" I asked, still trying to catch my breath.
He lowered his hands slowly, his expression haunted. "I could hear them. All of them. Their fear. Their desires. Their lies. Their truths. It was like... like their thoughts were screaming inside my head."
I stared at him. "You can read minds?"
"Not exactly." He frowned, struggling to find the words. "It's more like... I can sense what they're feeling. What they want. What they're hiding."
I went completely still. Then panic spread through my heart.
"Can you read me?" I asked with a tremor in my voice.
