Page 79 of Her Soul to Own

The air feels thick. The walls feel like they’re closing in on me, smothering me. My chest is tight, my heart pounding in my ears, and I’m sure I’m about to break in half.

I stare at my phone, which was dropped like a bombshell earlier, and everything starts to blur. My notification lights up again. Another message. Another link. The screen flashes continually, a constant reminder of the irreversible damage done.

The room feels too small. My thoughts race, but they’re all scattered, disjointed, and incoherent. How could anyone have done this? How could someone invade my life like this, like I was just another piece of meat to be exploited?

Who did this?

A wave of nausea rises in my stomach. My head spins, my pulse is erratic, and my hands shake so violently that I can’t even hold the damn phone anymore. It slips from my grip and falls on the bed beside me, but my eyes don’t leave the screen. I can’t look away from what I’ve seen, even though I wish I could. Even though I want to tear the fucking thing into pieces.

I should have been prepared for this. I should have known better. But I didn’t.

The implications are too much to process at once. I feel exposed and raw, like the entire world can see the things I’ve always kept hidden. My privacy, my body, my thoughts, it’s all out there now for anyone to scrutinize, to comment on, to own.

Tears start to well up, but I refuse to let them fall. I can’t. Not now. Not when everything feels like it’s falling apart around me. I clench my fists, digging my nails into the palms of my hands just to feel something else, anything else.

But nothing can stop the hurt. Nothing can erase what has happened.

I want to scream. I want to destroy everything in my path. I want to tear down the walls and burn it all to the ground, butI can’t. Because the truth is, I’m powerless. I’m helpless. I’m exposed.

A small sob breaks free from my lips before I can stop it, and I quickly wipe it away, swallowing the lump in my throat. I can’t afford to fall apart. Not yet. Not until I know who did this to me. Not until I figure out how to make it stop.

I grab my phone again and stare at the screen, but I can’t bring myself to open any more links. Instead, I send a text to Silas, saying,I need you. Come back. Please.

I don’t even know if I’ll get a response. I don’t know if he’s even close by, or if he’ll even care enough to rush back to me. But I don’t want to be alone. Not like this.

Hours pass, and the world feels so fucking joyless. The house, once a sanctuary, now feels like a prison. Every corner feels like it’s watching me, every wall closing in on me.

But then, just as I’m about to send another text, I hear the sound of footsteps.

It’s Silas.

He’s here.

I don’t even think about it. I just yank open the door and stand in front of him before he has a chance to say a word. I’m trembling, my body on the verge of falling apart.

He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and immediately taking in the state I’m in. He steps closer, his expression inscrutable, but I can see a flicker of something in his gaze. Anger. Fear. It’s a split-second moment, but it’s enough for me to know that whatever the hell just happened, he’s pissed. Not at me, but at whatever’s been done to me. And that’s enough.

He pulls me into his arms without a word. His warmth is a comfort, and yet it only makes the ache inside my chest worse. I feel the floodgates threatening to open, and I bury myface into his chest, trying to hide the pain, the shame, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal that clings to every inch of me.

Silas’s voice is low when he speaks. “Who did this, Lyra?”

I can’t answer. I can’t bring myself to say the words, to even think anything. Because if I do, it makes it real.I have no idea.It makes this nightmare something that’s actually happening to me.

His hands gently grip my shoulders, pulling me back slightly so he can look at me. His eyes are filled with concern, but there’s also that same intensity I’ve come to associate with him. There’s determination and a kind of ferocity that I’m scared of because it means he’s going to go to extreme lengths to fix this. And that scares the shit out of me.

“Who, Lyra?” His voice is a soft command, urging me to tell him.

But I can’t. I don’t know. I’m too lost in the mess of emotions to focus on anything but the panic rising in my throat.

“I don’t know,” I finally whisper, my voice cracking. “I don’t know who did this.”

The tears I’ve been holding back start to spill over, and I let them. I don’t care anymore. I’m a fucking mess, and I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except for the fact that my life is now on display for the world to see. I’m on display for the world to see. My body, in its most vulnerable state.

Silas pulls me in tighter, his arms wrapping around me like a shield. “I’m going to fix this,” he says, his voice so steady and so calm that it almost gives me a false sense of security.

But I don’t believe him… not completely. Even though I want to. I want to believe he can fix this.But how can he fix this? How can anyone fix something like this?

I press my face into his chest again, the sobs coming harder now. I don’t care about the brand deals, the cameras, or the lies. All I want is to be normal again. To be Lyra Vane, thewoman in control, the woman who’s always been untouchable. But that woman is gone now. And all that’s left is the broken girl standing in front of him, the girl who’s unsure of how to put herself back together.

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