Bound by Shadows

32

My eyes fluttered open, a blurry haze of colors slowly sharpening into the dimly lit room. The world seemed to sway slightly, as if I were on a boat rocked by the ocean. The ceiling fan spun lazily above, its soft whirr a distant hum in my ears.

I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy, as if weighed down by an invisible force. The sheets clung to my skin, damp and tangled around my legs. My forehead was slick with sweat, beads of it trickling down my temples and pooling in the hollow of my neck. Every breath I took felt labored, the air thick and humid, each inhale a struggle against the oppressive heat that wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket.

My hand trembled as I raised it to touch my face, the tips of my fingers grazing my cheek, finding it flushed and burning. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I closed my eyes, willing the room to stop spinning. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat reverberating through my body, a relentless drum that refused to quiet.

With my head throbbing, I stood, dragging my feet to the window. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale light over the orphanage grounds. I walked to the door and was met by one of the men who had arrived with us. Antonio.

He seemed startled to see me. "Mrs. Hudson," he greeted.

"Where... where's my husband?" I asked, my voice shaky.

"He is currently attending to business." His tone carried an ominous weight, as I told him to lead the way. It took awhile but we made our way to the back of the orphanage, toward a wooden shed. Wrapping my arms around myself to ward off the chill, I followed, my steps slow and hesitant. As we approached, the sound of muffled voices, more like screams, grew louder.

Antonio halted just a few feet away. I moved past him and peered through the narrow opening of the wooden door. There, I spotted Caelus's powerful silhouette, his broad shoulders tense. His muscles rippled as he raised his fist, delivering a brutal punch to the man slumped in the chair before him, bruised and bound tightly.

"Tell me who sent you," Caelus seethed, his voice low and menacing, a tone I hadn't heard since that day in the forest.

"I told you, he goes by the name Mad Dog! I don't know his real name! I swear!" The man was weeping, the acrid smell of urine filling the shed.

"Not good enough," Caelus snarled, his tone edged with frustration as he pivoted to seize a wrench from the table. In that instant, our eyes met. I recoiled, a wave of instinctive fear washing over me as I registered the stark emptiness in his gaze. His once-brilliant blue eyes, typically alive, now seemed hollow and cold, stripped of all humanity.

I stepped away, not wanting to witness what would come next. Before I could retreat, I heard the sickening thud of the wrench and the man's muffled screams. Covering my ears, my hands trembling uncontrollably, I tried to block out the sounds. The whipping and bone-cracking noises continued until an eerie silence fell over the shed.

The sound of the wrench clanking to the ground made me turn. The wooden door creaked open, revealing Caelus. His once-green shirt was now stained with splotches of black—no, blood. Antonio offered him a handkerchief, which Caelus took to wipe his face and hands.

"Clean up the mess," he commanded, striding towards me without meeting my gaze.

When he finally stood towering over me, his eyes softened, the shade of blue returning, life and warmth replacing the previous void. His tense muscles relaxed.

"Did you k-kill him?"

His silence was answer enough. I took a sharp breath and massaged my temples. "What if the kids heard you? You're doing this not far from the orphanage, for God's sake!" I whispered harshly, a frown forming on my face.

"I didn't," he replied, his voice lacking the icy edge it had moments ago. "Although, that was my intention," he admitted quietly, and disbelief washed over me as I stared at him, struggling to process his words.

"Not funny."

"I know."

"How are you feeling?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice.

With my legs feeling weak, I attempted to steady myself but faltered, swaying slightly. He was quick to catch me, the crease of his brow and the tightness around his eyes grew. He placed a hand over my forehead. "You're burning up, darling."

Without a moment's hesitation, he swept me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat thundering beneath me, steady and reassuring, even as my own pulse raced with fever. The world around us blurred as he moved, each step deliberate and strong, his grip firm yet gentle.

"Hang on, I'm taking you inside," he said, his voice calm and urgent. I nestled closer, seeking the comfort of his warmth. As we crossed the threshold, I caught glimpses of the familiar room, though everything felt distant and surreal.

He laid me down on the soft bed, smoothing my hair back from my forehead. "Just rest," he urged, his eyes searching mine. The worry etched on his face deepened as he fetched a cool cloth and draped it across my forehead. "I'll be right here," he promised, sitting close by, his presence a steady anchor in my fevered haze.

"It... it wasn't Ethan, right?" My voice quivered, the effort of speaking feeling monumental as weakness wrapped around me.

"He's dead," he replied, steady and final. "It wasn't him, but someone else. We're close to finding out. Don't worry." His words were meant to soothe, but the gravity of his statement lingered, implying that there may be several threats pursuing me and none of it I know the reason to.

Fatigue crashed over me like a tidal wave, pulling me under. I drifted in and out of consciousness, only to resurface and find Caelus sitting on a chair nearby. He looked fresh from the shower, water droplets still glistening in his hair. The comfortable clothes he wore couldn't hide the fatigue etched on his face.

He had his head resting on the edge of the bed, eyes closed, lost in a moment of fragile peace. His hand wrapped around mine, fingers intertwined, grounding me. I squeezed his hand lightly before succumbing once more to sleep.