Page 154 of Change
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bianca
Burn
For the first time since all this had begun, the anxious stirring in my chest finally began to disappear. Titus reallywashere, and the uncertainty was gone.
He was going to be safe now.
The dragon was slumped forward, weight resting heavily on his shoulders and knees as his arms were tied in the air above him. He looked bruised and beaten, and I couldn’t imagine what they’d already done to him. And he wore no shoes, while his shirt was in tatters, barely covering him. Besides where I stood, there was no other exit in the rounded room—not even a window. However, in four corners of the space were black, golden-framed mirrors—almost like the smaller, shiny objects that had been in my own prison. And on the floor was a chalk circle running from each mirror.
The ominous glass stood out to me for only a second longer, then my concern for Titus outweighed the eerie chill seeping into my pores.
The brief respite had vanished, and a new sort of fear began to pool at the base of my throat. I rushed through the room, falling to my knees in front of him. I’d pressed my hands to his chest, and I could see his shallow breathing, which was, at the moment, the only indication he was still alive.
His skin was dirty, clammy, and warm.
Too warm.
He didn’t even flinch under the feel of my hands, and my lips parted as I tried to say something… anything.
But nothing escaped.
All I had right now was touch.
My heart raced in nervous anxiousness as I pressed my palms to his face, gliding my fingers over his rough jaw, moving my hands upward as I brushed the fingertips of my right hand over a loose curl that had fallen over his brow.
Titus…
He remained asleep—though, if he were just sleeping, he’d surely have woken by now. Helplessness consumed me as I sought to find the cause of his imprisonment.
Like Gloria, he had smooth, charcoal shackles locked around his wrists. Familiar, even down to the button-like latches nestled on the surface. On top of that, the chains continued to loop further, wrapping around his elbows.
Bile rose in my throat—I’d seen this already.
My hands moved to my hair as I pulled out another bobby pin—I could pick a lock easily.
But I had to hurry.
I stumbled to my feet, moving to grab the chains. Maybe he’d wake up once I freed him and he could break free. Once he was no longer imprisoned, we could—
Fire and pain roared down my arms, the force of it throwing me off my feet and causing me to fall back onto the floor. My ears rang and my head spun, and I grasped my elbows, rolling onto my stomach as I tried to extinguish the flames.
But, thankfully, the wave of force faded as quickly as it’d begun, and I was left shivering in the aftermath.
My hands were still without wounds—despite what I’d felt, there was nothing physical to show for my pain.
This really wasjustlike what’d happened with Daniel Cole.
“Bianca?” Titus’s deep tones echoed through the chamber, and I pulled my hands to my chest. His eyes were sharp, piercing, even despite his current predicament. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”
It was kind of sweet that my welfare would be the first thing the bruised and imprisoned man could focus on.
I opened my mouth to answer, shaking my head. A choking feeling tightened in my throat, and I wasn’t quite sure what was wrong. I wanted to reassure him. But my words were frozen in my throat, and tears of frustration pooled in my eyes.
My face was warm, and I pressed my hands to my cheeks in shame. I was so stupid. There was nothing stopping me from talking. What in the world was my problem?
I was physically okay now, so I didn’t understand.
