The Garden of Decay

Chapter 21

(Y/N) sat in the garden courtyard, surrounded by the familiar scents of rosemary and sage, the herbs stirred gently by the warm afternoon breeze. The tranquility of the scene felt strangely fragile after her outing with Thorne. She couldn't shake the images of the broken world outside the Garden's walls, the barren landscape haunted by shadows. Here, the Garden was lush, bursting with life in stark contrast to the wilderness beyond. But today, something darker threaded through the air, slipping beneath the surface peace.

As she tended to a row of sprouting herbs, the soft hum of whispered voices drifted from behind the low stone wall nearby. She stilled, hearing the tension in their tones, the urgency of voices kept low but rising in worry. Leaning closer, she caught the words of two women from the Garden who often handled provisions. Their voices trembled with unease, barely audible.

"Another one," one of them whispered, her voice thick with fear. "This time it was Marcus... and he's not the first."

"Shh," the other replied sharply, her voice tight with caution. "If anyone hears — or worse, if Lucien finds out we're talking..."

They fell silent, but their words left a deep chill in the air, lingering long after they hurried away. (Y/N) felt her heart quicken, her mind racing to keep up with what she'd overheard. Marcus was gone? She remembered him — reserved, kind in a quiet way. And if he wasn't the first...

The weight of their words pressed on her, and suddenly, the lush foliage around her felt stifling. The brightness of the Garden seemed almost too perfect, masking something darker lurking beneath its surface.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet voice, familiar yet sharper than usual. Elias was watching her from the shade of a nearby tree, his gaze serious, as if he had been observing her reaction. "You look troubled."

She looked up, startled, but managed a small, wary smile. "It's nothing," she murmured, glancing down at her hands as she brushed soil from her fingers. But she could feel his gaze, unblinking and intense, studying her closely.

Elias stepped forward, his movements slow, purposeful. His eyes held a glint of something she hadn't seen in him before — an intensity that went beyond concern. He crouched down beside her, so close that she could smell the earth on his clothes, mixed with the faint scent of lavender. His voice was soft but insistent. "Out here, nothing is 'nothing,'" he murmured, his gaze locked onto hers. "You've... heard things, haven't you?"

His words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she wondered just how much he knew. She shifted, uneasy beneath his scrutiny. "Just... whispers," she admitted. "Something about people going missing."

Elias's face darkened, his eyes flickering with an emotion that lay just beneath the surface. "People say things they shouldn't," he muttered, his tone hardening. "In a place like this, rumors spread like weeds." He paused, then added, almost to himself, "Though sometimes, weeds hold a kind of truth."

(Y/N) held his gaze, her curiosity growing despite the sense of unease that lingered between them. "Elias... have you heard anything? About people disappearing?" Her voice was soft, cautious, as if speaking too loudly would break the delicate balance of their world.

Elias hesitated, his expression unreadable. His hand reached out, fingers brushing over the tender leaves of a basil plant, as though he were searching for the right words among the foliage. "I've heard things," he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. "But what you hear and what you know... they aren't always the same."

She caught the way his fingers stilled over the basil, clenching slightly as if in some internal struggle. "And what do you know?"

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, there was an unmistakable depth to his gaze, a flicker of something both vulnerable and intense. "Enough to be careful," he replied, his voice tinged with something darker, a hint of something unsaid. "Enough to know there are forces here that... aren't what they seem."

(Y/N) shivered, the gravity in his voice pressing down on her. She wanted to ask more, to probe further, but Elias's gaze shifted, his face softening slightly. He reached out, his fingers brushing her wrist. "But you don't need to worry. I'll look out for you."

His touch lingered a moment too long, sending a strange shiver down her spine. There was something almost possessive in his gesture, a fierceness that unsettled her, and yet... there was a comfort in his words, in the promise he offered. She nodded slowly, the weight of his gaze heavy on her.

But as they sat there in silence, another conversation floated through the air, voices drifting from a nearby path.

"... Lucien said it's for the greater good. He wouldn't let anyone leave unless it was... necessary."

The two of them tensed, glancing toward the voices as a pair of young men rounded the corner, oblivious to the conversation they'd left trailing behind them.

(Y/N) looked back at Elias, her heart pounding, her mind spinning with fragments of truth and lies. She wanted to understand, to unravel the web of secrets woven into the fabric of the Garden. But every thread she pulled seemed to lead her further into shadows.

Elias watched her, as if sensing her growing distress. His hand on her wrist tightened, grounding her, though his gaze remained distant, locked on some unseen horizon. "You don't need to get involved," he murmured. "Trust me... it's better that way."

The intensity of his words, his need to protect her, was almost overwhelming. She looked down, avoiding his gaze as the weight of his presence settled over her. He was close, closer than ever before, his proximity drawing a heat to her cheeks that she couldn't ignore.

"Elias," she whispered, almost afraid to break the quiet between them. "I don't want to be kept in the dark."

He looked at her then, his face softening, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. His fingers moved up her arm, a touch that felt both comforting and unsettling. "I know," he murmured, his voice low, intimate. "But some things... some things are better left unseen. I don't want you to carry that weight."

The moment lingered, thick with unspoken truths and a connection that felt almost tangible. But as his gaze held hers, a shadow passed over his face, and the distance between them seemed to widen. He let go of her wrist, his hand dropping back to his side, though his eyes lingered on her, haunted.

"Just... be careful," he said softly, almost pleadingly. "In a place like this, trust is fragile. And sometimes, what you see isn't the whole truth."

With those words, he rose and turned away, leaving her alone in the courtyard, the quiet pressing in around her once more. The whispers, the rumors, the faces of those she knew — all seemed to merge into a heavy silence that weighed on her heart. But the promise of protection, lingering in Elias's touch and in his words, remained etched into her mind.