Moonlit Hearts

Chapter 42: Through the Veil

Wangji's breath caught as the figure in the Veil solidified. Wei Ying was slumped against the cold, unyielding wall of a dimly lit cell. His once-proud form was battered, his robes torn and stained with blood and dirt. A rusted shackle encircled his wrist, its edges biting deeply into his raw skin. A dark bruise marred his cheekbone, stark against the pallor of his gaunt face. Even his eyes—those vibrant, mischievous eyes that had always sparkled with life—were dulled, their light suffocated by suffering. His head hung forward, as though even the effort to hold it upright had become too much to bear.

Beside him, Wen Ning sat unnaturally still, his pale face fractured like delicate porcelain. The quiet strength that once defined him had drained away, leaving him fragile, like he might shatter with the slightest touch.

Wen Qing gasped sharply, her hand flying to her mouth as her entire body froze. "A-Ning..." she choked out, her voice trembling. She took an unsteady step closer, tears brimming in her eyes. "A-Ning..." The sight of her brother, her last family, reduced to this pitiful state, shattered her composure. Her voice broke as she turned to Wangji, her desperation spilling over. "Lan Wangji, look at them! What has Odin done?!"

But Wangji barely registered her words. His focus was entirely on Wei Ying. **His Wei Ying.** The sight of him—beaten, shackled, and broken—ignited a storm inside. His chest tightened, as if caught in an iron vice, and his hands curled into trembling fists. Rage surged like molten fire in his veins, sharp and unrelenting, and the beast within him—the one he had fought to keep caged—began to stir.

It clawed at the edges of his control, snarling, demanding release. His entire body burned with the effort to contain it, his breath shallow and uneven. The monster was alive, tangible, coiled tightly within him like a predator ready to pounce. The edges of his vision darkened, and the crackling tension in the air mirrored the storm inside him.

And then, Wei Ying stirred.

His head lifted weakly, just enough for his dim gaze to meet the Veil. His lips curved into the faintest ghost of a smile, a flicker of the spirit that had always defined him. "Lan Zhan..." he rasped, his voice barely audible yet impossibly clear. "...You came..."

The sound shattered something deep inside Wangji. It was so faint, so fragile, yet it hit harder than any blow.

"We're here," Wen Qing said, her voice firm despite the emotion shaking her. Her eyes darted between Wei Ying and Wen Ning, her resolve flickering but unbroken. "We're going to get you out, Wei Ying. Both of you. I promise."

Wei Ying's lips quirked again, his attempt at a smile bittersweet. "You'd better hurry..." His voice was hoarse, his words fragmented by exhaustion. "Odin's hospitality... leaves much to be desired..." He let out a raspy laugh, weak but defiant. "And his wine? Terrible. Bring... better wine with you... I think I'll need it."

Even in the depths of torment, Wei Ying tried to find humor. The fragile joke cut deeper than words. Wangji's fists clenched tighter, trembling with the effort it took to keep the storm at bay.

The dam he had built around his fury cracked. Then shattered. 

Rage surged like an inferno, wild and uncontrollable. The beast within him roared to life, thrashing violently against its chains. His chest burned as if fire coursed through his veins, and his pulse thundered in his ears. The air grew heavy, crackling with barely contained energy. His grip on control was slipping, and he could feel the beast looming, ready to be unleashed.

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Ying's whisper reached him again, faint and fading. His head dipped forward, the flicker of his spirit dimming. His fragile humor extinguished as his body sagged against the cold stone wall.