Page 68 of Shattered Obsession

“You think she chose you?” I press on, tone unwavering. “She chose me. Every night, she crawls into my arms, letting me be the one to comfort her. Every time she has the strength to open her scars and let me bear witness to her pain. She lets me in where you’ll never dare to tread. And it eats you alive, doesn’t it?”

My remark hits the spot. His teeth grind, jaw twitching, but I focus on Thalia, who trembles in his arms. Just like she always did.

“Shut up!” he snarls, jerking the knife even closer to her delicate skin, forcing her to feel the cold metal. “You don’t know what she wants. She doesn’t even know! She’s nothing without someone to tell her what to be!”

-Thalia-

Every breath burns like fire in my lungs. The cold bite of steel against my skin urges me to claw myself free, but I can’t move—his grip is unyielding. Bella continues to bark from the corner, frantic and wildly protective, but it only causes Damian’s arm to tighten around me further.

Xander’s eyes are locked onto mine, burning with an intensity that reveals the violence he’s holding back. I can see it—he wants to rip Damian apart, and God, do I want him to. But the knife is dangerously close. One wrong twitch, and it’s all over.

I concentrate on Xander’s voice, grounding myself in the steadiness of his calm demeanor. I cling to the promise that he’ll get me out of this hell, because if I don’t, the panic will consume me whole.

Damian lives in the past like it’s still the present. As if my trembling now is his victory rather than the echo of what he broke. I don’t tremble because I belong to him; I tremble because I survived him.

The moment Damian yanks me tighter against him, the air flees my lungs, leaving me gasping and terrified. Panic surges within me, a twisting knot of fear and desperation.

But then I hear Xander’s voice breaking through the fog of dread, calm yet blazing with determination.

He’s baiting Damian, drawing the fury onto himself, away from me, and somehow, it works. For just a split second, a precious heartbeat, Damian’s grip falters, and in that brief moment of hesitation, I twist my body with all the strength I can muster. For the first time, he isn’t prepared for my resistance. His balance falters just enough, a stumble, a misstep, that my arm slips from his grasp. My shoulder slams into the wall, but I don’t stop moving. I would rather bleed from a thousand cuts than feel his hands on me again. The knife barely grazes my skin, a sharp sting, but I don’t have time to care about the pain. I wrench free from his grip and stumble toward the hallway, desperation propelling me forward.

Time fractures into slow-motion.

I can feel my body twist, every muscle screaming in protest. My shoulder slams into the wall, pain spikes white-hot, but pain is better than helplessness. Pain means movement. Pain means I’m not frozen anymore.

I taste copper—blood.

My heartbeat is a war drum in my ears.

His fingers scrape my arm, trying to drag me back into the past.

But I keep moving.

Every inch I put between us feels like reclamation, like small, violent victories.

Bella lunges, teeth bared, and for the first time, Damian hesitates. He’s not the only predator in the room anymore.

I stumble, legs shaking, but I’m upright.

I’m free.

And I don’t whisper this time.

I run.

Bella lunges ahead, a ferocious guardian blocking Damian’s path as I crash against the wall. With trembling hands, I fumble to grab my phone, my heart pounding in my chest like the frantic beating of a war drum. My whole body shakes like I’m vibrating out of my skin.

I press my back against the wall, harder and harder, needing something solid. Needing proof that I still exist.

I feel the cold paint beneath my palms.

I see the crack in the baseboard.

I hear the fight—bodies hitting furniture, snarling breaths.

But it’s not enough.

I need him.