The snow fell in thick, lazy flakes, drifting silently around me as I sat on the roof.
The cold was bone-deep, sinking into my skin, but I couldn't bring myself to care.
Not when my mind was still caught in the images—those small, broken bodies. Arrows protruding from their frail forms. Their mouths opening in silent screams. Their tongues—gone.
And when I saw them, something in me broke open.
The memories came flooding back—vivid, merciless, as if they'd only been waiting for the right moment to crawl out of the dark.
I'd buried them so deep I'd almost forgotten they ever happened. Almost.
Until tonight.
Not when my own hands were still stained with the blood of the men I had killed.
I had lost control.
Again.
And yet, the worst part wasn't the loss of control.
It was the fact that I didn't care.
A part of me knew I should. I should feel guilt for what I had done, for how easily I had taken lives. But all I could feel was the raw, seething anger still coiling in my chest, burning even through the bitter cold.
They deserved it.
Every single one of them.
A shift in the snow behind me broke through my thoughts.
I didn't turn, but I knew it was him.
Raiden moved without a word, stepping onto the roof and settling beside me. He didn't speak. Didn't ask if I was okay. Didn't try to reason with me.
He just leaned his shoulder against mine.
Silent comfort.
We sat there for a while, watching the snow fall. The sky stretched wide above us, dark and endless, and for a brief moment, I wished I could disappear into it.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"That young girl is lucky you kept her alive."
His voice was soft, careful.
A flicker of heat flared in my chest, and I exhaled sharply. "I wouldn't call having to live life without a voice luck."
Raiden was quiet for a moment. Then his voice came low but firm.
"She has a life." He turned his head slightly, just enough for me to catch the silver-blue of his gaze. "That's what matters."
I swallowed, looking back at the snow-covered trees in the distance.
I wasn't sure if I believed that.
But I wanted to.
"I'm not apologizing for losing control."
The words left my lips sharp and unyielding.
Raiden didn't flinch. He just sat there, steady as ever, watching me with those eyes that had a way of seeing through everything.
"I don't expect you to," he said simply. "And I'm not gonna force you to talk if you're not ready." He shifted slightly, the warmth of his shoulder pressing a little more firmly against mine. "But like how you were with me, I'll be here to listen. When you are."
A heavy exhale left me.
I hadn't realized how tightly I'd been holding my breath.
For a moment, I just watched the snow swirl in the wind, gathering in soft piles around us. Then, finally, I spoke.
"When I was younger, living on the streets, I was almost one of those girls."
Raiden didn't react, but I could feel him listening.
"Slave traffickers were always lurking in the slums, looking for weak, frail, and easy targets. And one day, they picked me." My throat tightened. "Me and another girl. She wasn't really my friend, but sometimes we helped each other. Elsha. We both got jumped—beaten—thrown into a cart like sacks of wheat." My voice dipped, bitter. "It was so degrading."
I swallowed hard, the memories clawing at the edges of my mind. "They took us to an abandoned house. There were so many others already there. Girls from all the different kingdoms. Chained. Afraid."
I took a slow, shaky breath, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me.
"They forced me to watch." My nails dug into my palms. "Every day, I had to watch them… break the girls in." The words felt like poison. "I had to listen to their screams. To their crying. For days I watched as girl after girl was raped, and I knew that soon, it would be my turn."
Raiden was silent, but his presence was unwavering. Solid.
"So I had to make a plan." My jaw clenched. "I had to escape."
I stared at the snow swirling around my fingertips, the cold biting into my skin, but I barely felt it. The memories were louder.
"I knew I couldn't do it alone," I murmured, voice hollow. "There were three others."
"Naia. Suri. Elsha. We weren't friends, not really. But we had a shared goal—to get out. And that was enough."
The wind howled around us, but I wasn't here on this roof anymore. I was back in that dark, rotting house. Trapped. Watching. Enduring.
"We whispered plans when the guards were drunk and careless. We watched. Waited. Counted the gaps in their patrols. We thought we had a chance." My fingers curled into fists. "Naia was the first to go."
Raiden shifted slightly, but stayed silent, listening.
"She was small, fast. The only one who could squeeze through the bars when Suri managed to pick the lock. We were supposed to slip out quietly. But one of the guards woke up. He saw her first." My breath hitched. "She ran one way so we could run the other."
I didn't say what happened next. I didn't have to. The sound of breaking bone still echoed in my mind.
"Suri, Elsha and I made it to the hallway. We had to be quiet—had to be careful. But one of them wasn't asleep. He grabbed her." My voice trembled. "She didn't scream. Just looked at me and Elsha with these wide, pleading eyes. So I—I grabbed something. A piece of broken glass. And I—"
My throat closed. Blood. So much blood.
Raiden's hand brushed against mine—not grabbing, not forcing—just there. Letting me know I wasn't alone.
"I stabbed him," I said finally, my voice barely a whisper. "Right in the throat. He let go of Suri, but the noise woke the others. We could hear them coming. She knew she wouldn't make it. So she told us to run."
Raiden exhaled slowly. "Did you?"
"We had no choice." My jaw tightened. "We ran."
Silence stretched between us, heavy with everything I wasn't saying.
"Elsha and I made it to the last door," I continued. "But there were guards blocking the way. Two of them. We had no weapon and one way out."
Raiden's gaze darkened, like he already knew what came next.
"Elsha knew it too," I whispered. "She saw it in my eyes before I even said it." My breath shook. "She didn't want to die."
A pause. A long, terrible pause.
"But she did."
Raiden turned fully to me now, brows furrowed, expression unreadable. "Lyra—"
"I pushed her forward," I said, my voice raw. "And I ran. I didn't stop running… not until I met you."
I heard the words—the truth of them—and something inside me cracked.
I let the snow slip between my fingers, watching it melt against the warmth of my skin. The cold bit at me, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
I exhaled sharply, my breath curling in the icy air. "Who the fuck does that?" My voice was hollow, disgust curling at the edges. "A fucking coward, that's who."
Raiden shifted beside me, but his voice came soft, steady. "You were just a kid, Lyra. And you were terrified."
I let out a humorless laugh. "So were they." My fingers curled into the snow, gripping it like I could hold onto something solid. "But they were willing to sacrifice themselves so the others could survive. So I could survive. And me? I ran. I pushed her to her death." My voice broke. "I was selfish." I swallowed hard. "And worse…for a short while I forgot about it."
Raiden didn't say anything, just watched me.
"I forgot," I whispered, shaking my head. "Until I saw those girls. The memories came flooding back. And I thought—" My voice wavered. "I thought maybe if I saved them all, it would somehow make up for what I did."
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.
"But I couldn't even fucking do that."
The words cracked as they left me. My head dropped onto my knees, and I squeezed my eyes shut as the tears finally broke free, slipping down my face in silence.
Raiden didn't speak right away. He didn't rush to fill the silence. Instead, he shifted closer, the heat of him cutting through the cold.
"You saved one," he murmured.
I jerked my head up, glaring through tears. "And what the fuck does that change?" My voice was raw, sharp, edged with something that hurt too much to contain. "You think saving one life makes up for the others? That it erases what I did? Nothing I will ever do will change that."
Raiden's gaze stayed steady, but there was something flickering in his eyes.
I let out a bitter laugh. "You think you're a monster for what you did when you had no control." My hands trembled. "I knew what I was doing… and I chose to do it… So what does that make me?"
Raiden's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away.
"I'm worse than a monster," I whispered. "How the fuck am I supposed to save anyone when I couldn't even save them?"
I sat there, hugging my knees, the cold seeping into my bones, but it was still nothing compared to the hollow ache inside my chest. Raiden didn't say a word. He just sat beside me like a steady shadow in the storm, unmoving, present.
Then, without warning, he stood and gently reached down, wrapping an arm around my waist and lifting me to my feet like I weighed nothing. His hand brushed the tears from my cheeks with his thumb—his touch warm, grounding.
He reached for my hand and took it firmly in his own. "Fly with me," he said.
I blinked, confused. "What?"
He didn't answer. He just gave me that look—determined, gentle, unreadable—and then snapped his wings open with a powerful whoosh before launching into the sky.
"Raiden—!" I called out, but he was already climbing into the night, a streak of shadow and starlight. For a second, I hesitated. Then my wings snapped open, and I took off after him.
He was fast.
The wind whipped against my face, sharp and biting. I pushed my wings harder, muscles screaming in protest. Raiden darted through the sky like he was part of it, weaving and turning, diving low and then climbing again. He wasn't going easy on me—but he wasn't leaving me behind either.
Then he started rising, higher and higher, up past the low-hanging clouds, the stars unfolding around us like a thousand glowing eyes.
Finally, he stopped. Hovering in the open sky, breathing steady. I reached him seconds later, wings aching, chest heaving, lungs burning.
"What the hell was that?" I panted, glaring at him.
He turned to me, eyes catching the light of the stars like silver fire. "Let it out."
"What?"
Raiden moved closer, voice fierce but gentle. "Let it out, Lyra."
I blinked, confused. "Let what out?"
Then he roared, loud and raw. "Scream, Lyra! Fucking let it all out! The years and years of pain—let it out!"
I just stared at him, my heart thundering in my chest. The wind swirled around us. The stars blinked above.
And something cracked.
Something deep.
And I screamed.
I screamed so hard my throat burned. I screamed for the girls I couldn't save. For the ones I left behind. For the ones I killed. For the child I was and the monster I thought I'd become. I screamed for every silent moment I spent pretending I was fine. For the guilt. For the rage. For the helplessness. For the pain that never left me.
I screamed until the air tore from my lungs and the stars blurred and tilted.
Then I sobbed.
The screams turned to choking, gasping sobs, and I collapsed into Raiden's arms mid-air. His wings wrapped around us like a blanket, cocooning us from the world as he held me tight against his chest.
He didn't speak at first—just pressed his lips to the crown of my head, his hand stroking through my hair.
And then, in a voice so quiet and steady it broke me all over again, he whispered,
"You are not your past, Lyra."
I shivered against him.
"You are your light."
I looked up at him, eyes swollen and wet, and he held my gaze like I was the only thing keeping him in the sky.
"Your light is so bright and beautiful," he whispered, brushing his fingers against my cheek, "it makes the stars jealous."
And I cried all over again.
Not out of pain—
but because his words broke something inside me.