Page 111 of Shattered Obsession

End the replay.

End the power.

End him.

Xander freezes, his expression twisting into one of alarm as panic threads through his voice. “What do you mean?”

My throat burns as I swallow down the fire that threatens to erupt. “I’m not leaving,” I repeat, my voice stronger now, the defiance wrapping around me like armor. “Not when he’s still breathing.” I turn to him, the spark of fire in my chest growing hotter, searing through the remnants of fear that linger there. “It doesn’t end until I say it does,” I retort, my voice fierce yet trembling with raw emotion. “He took everything from me, Xander. My body. My safety. My sanity. Every single day has been a battle since I drowned in what he did to me. If you walk me out of here right now, he wins again.”

His jaw clenches, muscles straining against the weight of his anger, and I see the twitch of his fists as he wrestles with himself. I know he wants to fight me on this, to scoop me up and carry me away from this nightmare, but he sees me, truly sees me. He looks at me like I’m the thing at risk of shattering, not the man bleeding at my feet.

Xander doesn’t fear death or pain or hell.

He fears losing me.

“I don’t want you to become someone you’ll regret,” he whispers.

“I already am,” I say quietly.

And maybe that’s what breaks him.

The strength, the determination, the unwavering resolve in my eyes.

After an agonizing moment of silence stretching between us, where our breaths mingle in the thick tension, he finally nods, slow and heavy, the weight of the moment almost palpable.

“All right,” he concedes, his voice low and dangerous, like the rumble of distant thunder. “But you don’t touch him unless I’m right there. You get one shot, Thalia. One. And then I’m ending this.”

A surge of overwhelming relief floods through me, though it’s tangled with adrenaline, sending tremors through my hands. Together, we move with purpose, dragging Damian’s limp body across the cold floor. The scrape of his body against concrete is deafening. I feel every vibration through the soles of my feet. Xander is breathing hard, every movement laced with barely restrained rage.

The chain’s metal links glint under the bulb as we tighten them around Damian’s wrists. My fingertips graze his skin, clammy and lifeless.

I expected to feel fear.

Instead, I feel power.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

-Thalia-

The sound of his weight scraping against the ground sends shivers down my spine as we chain him to the heavy chair bolted to the floor. Damian’s head lolls to the side, blood smeared across his face like a macabre mask, but the rise and fall of his chest is a haunting reminder that he is still alive.

I stand over him, my wrists throbbing and heart pounding incessantly in my chest, feeling the rage coiling tightly inside me like a serpent ready to strike. Xander’s presence behind me is a steady wall of strength, his hand brushing against the small of my back, a grounding connection in this chaotic moment.

“You wanted your chance,” he murmurs. “When he wakes up, it’s yours.”

I don’t expect the silence to be so loud. Even unconscious, Damian radiates the kind of wrongness that fills the room like smoke.

Xander’s hand brushes my back once.

I straighten.

The moment he stirs, something primal sparks in me.

For the first time, I am not trapped in his story.

He is trapped in mine.

A fierce sense of readiness surges through my veins, igniting a fire that I will not let extinguish until I reclaim what’s mine.