Page 30 of Claimed By Stone
I barely noticed the guards stepping aside as I entered the cell—my whole world had narrowed to the figure on the floor. Fully real, trembling, and bruised.
I dropped to my knees beside her, brushing hair from her tear-stained face. “You’re hurt,” I said, though the words were too small for what I felt.
She blinked up at me, eyes glassy with tears, and whispered, “Thavros.”
That was it. I gathered her into my arms, lifting her easily. She clung to me like she was afraid I’d vanish. Or worse, that she would.
Behind me, Khuldruk’s heavy footsteps echoed off the stone. I turned to find him watching us both, jaw tight, brow lowered in concern more than anger.
“We’ll talk later,” he said, voice low but firm. “But not now. Get her seen to. We’re not done with this, brother.”
“I know,” I said, and meant it. “But first—I’m getting her out of this gods-damned dungeon.”
He gave a short nod and stepped aside. For once, he didn’t argue. Didn’t question.
He trusted me.
I carried her from the cell like something sacred.
I took her to my chambers, not to the study. Not the war room. Not anywhere anyone else might find her.
Here, there would be no interruptions.
She was trembling in my arms, but she didn’t resist. Didn’t even protest when I sat her gently on the edge of the low bed and fetched water and salve from the cabinet. Her hands rested limply in her lap. Thank gods, she was still real.
I knelt in front of her, pressing a damp cloth to her scraped cheek with careful fingers. “Tell me where it hurts.”
She lifted her skirt to reveal a skinned knee and heels scraped raw from being dragged. I had to stifle a sob. I also noted the wound on her elbow that needed tending. I had a job to do. I couldn't yet fall to her feet and ask for forgiveness.
I bandaged her wounds as she sat silent on my bed, looking stricken. She wasn't crying. She was just staring silently at the wall.
I sat back on my heels, looking at her. "What happened?"
“That’s a hard question to answer,” she whispered, a bitter edge behind the softness.
My throat tightened. “Then start with what you can.”
She watched me for a long moment before speaking. Her voice was barely above a breath. “My name is Seraphina.”
I froze. The cloth in my hand stilled mid-motion.
“I remembered when I woke up.” Her hands gripped the blanket beneath her like an anchor. “Not everything. But pieces. I think—I’m a Godling. It doesn’t all make sense, but Iknowit’s true. I was put here for something, but something… something went wrong."
A silence settled between us, heavy and pulsing.
“You were sent,” I said carefully. “By who?”
She shook her head. “I don’t remember. Not fully. Just that I was meant to… I don’t know, stop something. But I don’t want that anymore...”
Her voice broke. “I was so scared when they grabbed me—because I knew, Thavros. I knew I wasn’t just some lost woman in stone. But I have this feeling that I can't shake ...”
I swallowed hard, the weight of it anchoring itself into my chest. “Did anyone hurt you?”
“No. Not really. I was just so scared. I kept telling them to find you."
She closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her face.
"I'm sorry," I solemnly say as I kneel before this goddess, undeserving of her. I pressed my forehead to the back of her hand. "I failed you."
