Cyrus’s breathing was uneven, broken, his entire body trembling as he stared up at her. Then—slowly, almost as if his strength had left him entirely—he reached forward. His hands found her legs, clutching at them like she was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.
"Please," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Please, Isabella, don’t say that. Don’t do that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."
His words cracked halfway through, raw and desperate, the kind of plea that tore through pride and left only pain behind. He bowed his head, pressing his forehead against her knees as if seeking forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.
"I didn’t an for any of this to happen," he said again, his voice trembling. "I didn’t know—gods, I didn’t know what I was doing. I thought you wanted—" His throat closed, and his words died into a broken gasp.
She flinched at the sound of it. His voice—usually calm, soft, so composed—was shaking. She had never heard him sound like this. Never imagined he could.
"Cyrus," she said, weakly, trying to pull her leg free. "Get up."
But he didn’t. He just shook his head over and over, his fingers tightening around her, his tears dampening her skin.
"Please, don’t push away," he begged, his voice breaking again. "You can hate . You can hit , yell at , anything. I’ll take it. I’ll take it all, I’ll do anything—just don’t break the bond. Please."
Her breath hitched.
He was trembling so hard now that she could feel it through the floor. His tail, normally sleek and poised, hung limply behind him, dragging on the stone like sothing lifeless. He looked ruined. And she hated it.
She hated how much he ant it. How much he cared.
Because the more he begged, the more her heart twisted—and the more the fear inside her grew.
"Stop it," she whispered, clutching at her chest as if the motion could steady her racing pulse. "Cyrus, stop it. You don’t understand—"
But he only held on tighter, his voice rising in panic. "I do understand! I swear I do! I never wanted to own you, I never wanted to hurt you! I’d cut this mark from your own skin if it would make you free again, but please, don’t destroy it. You don’t know what that would do to ."
Isabella’s throat tightened painfully.
"Then why did you do it?" she yelled suddenly, her voice breaking. "Why did you mark if you knew what it ant? You should’ve stopped! You should’ve stopped, Cyrus!"
He flinched as if she’d hit him.
"I tried," he whispered, brokenly. "I swear I tried. But I couldn’t—your body didn’t reject . I thought you wanted too. I thought..."
He stopped. The last word dissolved into a sob he tried to swallow but couldn’t.
Isabella stared down at him, her whole body trembling. Her breath ca in sharp, unsteady bursts. She wanted to scream, to cry, to say sothing—anything—but her voice was gone.
This was Cyrus. The man who smiled at her every morning. The one who listened when no one else did. The one who treated her like a person and not so divine ornant from another world.
And now he was on his knees before her, shaking, crying, begging her not to leave him.
Her heart hurt. It actually hurt.
She wanted to say it was okay. That she forgave him. That maybe it wasn’t his fault. But every ti she tried, her mother’s voice ca echoing back in her head—
Never let yourself be owned. Never belong to anyone.
Her chest ached. The words pulsed through her skull until they were louder than her heartbeat.
She wanted to believe Cyrus wasn’t like the others. That he wouldn’t hurt her. But what if she was wrong? What if this was just the start?
Her body shook. She felt like she was being split in two—the part of her that wanted to run and the part that wanted to stay.
"Please," Cyrus said again, his voice smaller this ti. "Please, Isabella, don’t leave . I’ll do anything. Anything you ask of . Just... don’t break it."
She looked down at him—really looked at him.
His hands were trembling around her legs. His head was bowed, his red hair falling over his face. His shoulders were shaking, his voice barely above a whisper now.
He looked so human. So vulnerable. So lost.
Her throat burned as she swallowed back a sob.
And for a second, just one second, she thought about how cruel fate was. That the kindest man she had ever t was the one she was most afraid of.
Her fingers curled into fists. She blinked rapidly, her eyes wet, her jaw tight.
Cyrus looked up at her through tear-blurred eyes—pleading, terrified. Like a man watching his world collapse in front of him.
Sothing inside her broke a little.
She turned her face away, pressing the back of her hand to her eyes, her breath shaking.
"Fine," she whispered, her voice trembling as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
Cyrus froze.
"If you’ll do anything..." she said slowly, lowering her hand, her voice quiet but firm, "then I only want one thing."
Cyrus’s breath hitched, his eyes searching her face like he was trying to read her mind, trying to understand what she was about to say. His heart thudded painfully against his chest, every second stretching into forever.
"Anything," he whispered. "I’ll do anything, Isabella. Just—tell what you want. Please."
He ant it. Every word. His voice trembled, but the resolve behind it was solid, unwavering. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t saying it to make her pity him. He would actually do anything she asked of him—walk through fire, tear out his heart, crawl through the underworld barefoot if that’s what it took.
And she could see it. She could see it in his eyes. The way they glistened, the way his pupils shook every ti he blinked, the way his throat moved when he swallowed his own tears.
It almost broke her. Almost.
She drew in a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her heart was beating too fast; her hands were trembling. But she couldn’t stop now. If she did, she’d lose all her courage.
Her lips parted, and the words ca out in a whisper that hurt even her to say.
"Then leave."
Cyrus blinked, confused. "What?"
"I never want to see you again," she said, her voice stronger this ti. "I never want to hear from you again. I don’t want you near . Not here, not anywhere."
The words hung heavy in the air, like blades suspended over both of them.
Cyrus’s expression froze. His lips parted slightly, but no sound ca out. His breathing hitched, his shoulders locking in place. The color drained from his face, leaving him pale under the dim light.
"I..." he started, but the words died before they could form.
Isabella’s eyes softened for just a mont, but she forced herself to keep going. "That’s what I want. That’s all I want. Stay out of my sight, Cyrus. That’s the only thing you can do for now."
And then—just like that—she sealed her choice.
She kept the bond.
But she destroyed everything else.
The mont those words left her lips, she saw it. The exact instant his heart shattered. The shock in his eyes, the disbelief that twisted into sothing raw and painful. His lips trembled like he wanted to speak but couldn’t, his breath coming out in broken gasps.
For a man who had fought beasts, seen blood, and survived death—this was the first ti Cyrus looked truly defeated.
He just stared at her, silent, hollow, the air leaving his lungs like he’d been struck straight through the chest.
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