The World Cannot Know

Chapter 51

Matthew Wild

Everything was a blur—sounds, sensations, thoughts all muddled together in a haze of pain and exhaustion. I drifted in and out of consciousness, barely aware of what was happening around me. The only constant was Sebastian's voice, a lifeline cutting through the fog.

"Matthew, stay with me," he was saying, his voice full of worry. I could feel his arm around me, steadying me as we moved, his presence the only thing anchoring me to reality. I wanted to respond, to let him know I was still here, but the words wouldn't come. My body felt like it was made of lead, every movement sending sharp jolts of pain through me.

We stopped moving, and I felt myself being lowered onto something soft—a bed, I realized dimly. The mattress gave way under my weight, and I sank into it, the relief of lying down almost overwhelming.

"Matthew, we're here," Sebastian said again, his voice close to my ear now. I could feel his hand gripping mine, warm and reassuring. "Just hold on a little longer."

I tried to open my eyes, to focus on him, but everything was spinning. The room around me was a blur of shadows and flickering light, and I had to close my eyes again to keep from being sick. My breathing was shallow, each breath a struggle, and I could feel sweat trickling down my face, mixing with the blood and grime that clung to my skin.

Then there was another voice, deeper, unfamiliar. The doctor, I realized. He was speaking softly, his tone calm but urgent. I felt hands on me, lifting my shirt, probing at the wounds on my chest and arms. The touch was gentle but clinical, like I was some kind of specimen being examined. I could hear them talking, but the words were starting to slip away, my mind too foggy to make sense of them.

At some point, they began to wash me. The sensation of a damp cloth against my skin was jarring at first, making me shiver. But as they worked, wiping away the dirt and blood, I felt some of the tension leave my body. The water was warm, soothing against my battered skin, and for a moment, I let myself relax into it, too exhausted to resist.

"Stay with me, Matthew," Sebastian's voice came again, a thread of concern woven through the words. His hand never left mine, even as the doctor worked, even as I felt myself slipping further and further away.

I wanted to tell him I was trying, that I was still here, but the darkness was closing in, pulling me under. The last thing I felt was Sebastian's hand squeezing mine, a lifeline that I held onto even as everything else faded away.

Then there was darkness, that was suffocating, wrapping around me like a shroud. I was aware of the void, endless and cold, but there was something worse lurking in the shadows—something I couldn't see but could feel, pressing down on me with a weight that made it hard to breathe. 

Hands of the Valorian guards, the cold metal of the rod against my skin, hands, rough and unyielding, holding me down, suffocating me. The darkness swallowed everything, the weight of the unseen force pressing me deeper into the void, into the pain, and into the terror.

Prince Sebastian 

I woke with a start, my neck aching from the awkward angle I'd been sleeping in. My head had been resting on the edge of the bed where Matthew lay, the fabric of the blanket cool against my cheek. The faint light of dawn was beginning to creep through the small window, casting a pale, almost ethereal glow over the room. I blinked, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep, my thoughts sluggish as I pieced together the events of the night before.

My eyes drifted to Matthew, and a tightness gripped my chest. He was still, too still, his face pale against the stark white of the pillow. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his forehead. The bruises and cuts that marred his skin stood out in the dim light, stark reminders of the torment he had endured. His breathing was shallow but steady, a faint rise and fall of his chest that was the only sign of life.