Inside My Head (Silent Moment Series: Book 6)

Chapter 15

I carefully attached my message to the lantern, its soft light flickering in the dusk. The lanterns, like silent sentinels, swayed gently, casting a contemplative aura around us. Approaching Bellamy, I found him in a pensive mood, gazing at the lanterns with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"Apparently the lanterns float, taking your sins with them," I remarked, trying to engage him in the ceremony's symbolism.

"If only it were that easy," Bellamy responded, his voice tinged with a wistful longing for such simplicity.

"Maybe it is," I suggested, hoping to offer a different perspective. "I wrote down, 'leaving you in Polis'."

Bellamy let out a tired sigh, his eyes not meeting mine. "Kegan, stop. Let's not do this."

But I needed him to understand. "What I did—leaving you like that—I'm so sorry, Bellamy," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Bellamy looked at me then, his expression softening. "I know what it's like to risk everything for one person. I know Madi's your family."

"But you are my family, too, Bellamy. My brother," I interjected, my words laden with sincerity. "I lost sight of that, and I promise, I will never forget it again. You're too important to me."

In that moment, Bellamy stood and enveloped me in a hug, a gesture that bridged the distance our past actions had created. It was a silent acknowledgment of our shared history and the unspoken bond that had weathered so many storms.

As we parted, I glanced back at the lantern station. "Are you gonna try it?"

Bellamy chuckled, a hint of melancholy in his laugh. "Too many sins. My lantern wouldn't float."

"Octavia?" I prodded gently, aware of the complicated layers in their relationship.

He gave me a weary but resolved smile. "No more amends today."

"Okay," I replied, understanding the need for space and time in the intricate web of sibling relationships.

***

As I stepped into the vibrant atmosphere of the party, I was immediately struck by the lively music and the crowd of people around my age. It was a refreshing change, reminiscent of the days in the Sky Box, filled with youthful energy and unburdened spirits. I scanned the room and noticed Cillian amidst the crowd. Raven was nowhere to be seen – this wasn't really her scene, I guessed – but I was determined to make the most of the night. Approaching Cillian, I decided to dive into the festivities. The music enveloped me, a pulsating rhythm that seemed to lift me higher with every beat. I found myself jumping around, getting lost in the euphoria of the dance. It was as if each note of the music was a jolt of energy, electrifying my soul, making me feel more alive than I had in a long time.

As I danced, my body moving instinctively to the rhythm, I felt a sense of liberation. The music was like a drug, elevating my spirits, buzzing through my mind with pure joy. It was as though my soul was radiating a brilliant light, so intense that I almost expected my skin to start glowing. The night was young, and I felt an endless reservoir of energy coursing through my limbs. I could dance for centuries, carried by the wave of exhilaration that swept over the entire room. In this moment, amidst the laughter, the music, and the dance, I found a rare escape, a chance to let go and just be in the here and now, celebrating life in its purest form.

After hours of dancing and laughter, when Cillian invited me back to his place, I didn't hesitate to accept. There was something liberating about being with someone who knew me simply as Kegan, someone unfamiliar with the burdens of my past. As we sat in his modest, yet cozy living space, our conversation flowed effortlessly. Cillian, despite having spent his entire life within the confines of a dome, had a wealth of interesting views and stories. His experiences, though different from mine, were fascinating in their own right, offering a fresh perspective on life.

What struck me most about Cillian was the sincerity in his smile, a kind of warmth and genuineness that I hadn't encountered in a long time. His soft-spoken nature and attentive listening made me feel at ease, valued in a way that was both new and comforting. It was a rare experience for me – to engage in a conversation where the focus was not on the darkest parts of my history but on the simple, yet profound act of sharing thoughts and experiences. As the night wore on, our conversation meandered through various topics, and I found myself relaxing more than I had in years. Eventually, fatigue caught up with me, and I must have dozed off on his couch. When I awoke, the first light of dawn was filtering through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. Cillian stood there, gazing out, lost in thought. The sight of him in that tranquil morning light felt like a new beginning, a chance for a friendship based on who I was now, not who I had been.

As I yawned and joined Cillian at the window, his quote from "The Crucible" lingered in my mind. It hinted at the complexities and hidden truths of Sanctum. But my contemplation was abruptly cut short by the sight of a drawing on the table. There, staring back at me, were faces I knew all too well – Octavia, my mother, Murphy, Bellamy, Echo, and Madi. My heart pounded faster as I noticed the ominous red Xs and circles. Why were some marked and others not? What did this mean for their safety, especially Madi's?

I was lost in thought when the horn sounded, jolting me back to the present. "I have to see this," I muttered, my instincts kicking in. As I grabbed my coat, the drawing in my hand felt like a heavy burden, a mystery that needed urgent solving.

My eyes lingered on Madi's face, untouched in the drawing. The need to protect her, to ensure she wasn't in danger, overwhelmed me. The marked faces of Octavia, Murphy, and Bellamy – what did the red X signify? And why was I circled? With every step towards the door, my resolve strengthened. I needed answers, and I needed them fast. Whatever this drawing meant, I was determined to uncover the truth and shield those I cared about from any lurking threats. Cillian's explanation about his drawing hobby did little to quell the unease churning in my stomach. The style was unmistakably similar to those found in Russell's possession. My mind raced, trying to piece together the implications of these sketches.

His inquiry about the circle around my face sent a chill down my spine. "I'm guessing it's because of my blood," I replied, my voice barely more than a whisper, sensing the danger lurking beneath his casual demeanor.

"Very good," Cillian pressed, his tone taking on a more sinister edge. "Now, tell me how many others are like you."

"None," I shot back, my instincts screaming at me to get away, to warn the others.

Cillian blocked my path, his warning that he wasn't the real threat echoing ominously in the cramped space. I felt a surge of frustration and fear, knowing that whatever game he was playing, it was bigger than just him.

"Then get out of my way," I hissed, my patience wearing thin.

"Kegan, listen to me!" Cillian's voice was urgent now, hinting at a deeper, darker secret that Sanctum was hiding.

The moment I attempted to vault out the window, a sharp pain pierced the back of my neck. I stumbled, paralyzed, as the dart Cillian fired took effect. Crumpling helplessly to the floor, the sound of shattering glass outside was a distant echo to the betrayal unfolding within.

"Don't worry. It's just temporary," Cillian grunted, his voice a mixture of determination and regret as he hoisted me back onto the bed. "By the time we get you to the Children of Gabriel, you'll be fine," he assured me, his words tinged with an ominous undertone.

As I lay there, immobilized and vulnerable, Cillian's sneer conveyed a chilling message. "I wonder how many others wrote down 'murderer'?"

His words were laced with contempt, revealing his deep-seated animosity towards the Primes. Before I could process the full extent of his betrayal, the door burst open. Relief flooded through me as two guards rushed in. Their timely arrival halted Cillian's plans, but his defiance was undeterred.