Capítulo 36: Chapter 36 - A Heart Held Hostage
The soft murmur of waves echoed beyond the walls of Caius's private study, a distant reminder of the isolation surrounding the island. Inside, the fire in the hearth crackled low, its glow casting flickering shadows that danced along the shelves of weathered tomes and ancient artifacts.
Eira lingered at the doorway, hesitant. The faint scent of cedar and smoke wrapped around her, but it couldn't mask the tension that hung heavy in the room. Caius stood near the window, his back to her, the broad line of his shoulders taut beneath his dark coat. His posture was rigid, his hands braced on the windowsill as though the weight of his thoughts was too much to bear.
She crossed the threshold, the soles of her feet silent against the stone floor. "You've been like this for days," she said quietly, her voice cutting through the stillness.
Caius didn't respond. His golden eyes were fixed on the horizon, where the ocean stretched endlessly into the dark. The firelight caught the sharp edge of his jaw, and for a moment, Eira thought he might dismiss her like he had before.
But this time, something was different.
"Are you going to ignore me forever?" she said softly, her voice taut with both challenge and uncertainty.
Caius didn't move, his shoulders tense. The golden glow of his eyes was visible even in the dim light, fixed on the horizon as though he could command the sea to keep its secrets.
"You've been shutting me out since the night in the forest," she continued, her tone firmer now. "If you want me to leave, just say it."
At that, he turned. Slowly. The movement was deliberate, and the force of his gaze hit her like a wave. His golden eyes burned, unrelenting, yet shadowed with something she couldn't quite place—anger, maybe, or something far more dangerous.
"You think it's that simple?" he said, his voice low and clipped, each word striking like a dagger. "You think this is about ignoring you?"
Eira stiffened, her pulse quickening at the edge in his tone. But she didn't back down. "Then what is it about, Caius? Because I'm here. I'm standing right in front of you, and you're the one who keeps retreating."
His laugh was bitter, humorless, as he pushed away from the window. "Retreating," he echoed, shaking his head. His movements were smooth, precise, but the air around him felt charged, like the moments before a storm. "If you knew what I was keeping at bay, you wouldn't be so eager to demand answers."
The heat of the fire brushed against her back as Eira squared her shoulders. "You think I'm afraid of what's inside you?" she shot back. "I'm not. But I am tired of being treated like a burden when all I've ever done is try to meet you halfway."
Caius stilled at her words, his jaw tightening. For a moment, the flicker of firelight illuminated the sharp angles of his face, and Eira thought she caught a glimmer of something raw behind his stoic exterior.
"You don't know what you're inviting," he said finally, the bitterness in his tone replaced by something quieter—something far more unsettling.
Eira took another step closer. "Maybe I don't," she admitted, her voice soft but steady. "But I know this: I've stood by you despite everything, because I believe there's more to you than the walls you put up. If I'm wrong, tell me now."
Caius's eyes narrowed, the faintest flicker of hesitation breaking through his mask. He tilted his head, studying her as though weighing whether to push her away for good—or to give in to the force pulling them closer.
"Why?" he demanded, the word sharp and precise. "Why do you care so much? What makes you think I'm worth the effort?"
"Because I see you," Eira replied, her voice breaking slightly under the intensity of his stare. "Even when you try to disappear behind your anger, your guilt, and whatever else you're hiding—I see you. And I'm not afraid of what I'll find."
A muscle in Caius's jaw twitched, his silence heavier than the crashing waves beyond the window. When he finally spoke, his words were measured, each one laced with the weight of something he had been holding back for too long.
"You should be," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You should be afraid, Eira. Because the last person who thought they knew me—thought they could save me—tore me apart and didn't make it out alive."
Eira studied Caius's rigid form as the firelight flickered across the room. She knew he was locking himself away, retreating behind walls he had likely built long before she came into his life. But tonight, she refused to let him stay hidden.
"You know," she began, her voice quiet but steady, "I've spent so much time trying to understand you."
Caius didn't turn, but the faint tightening of his shoulders told her he was listening.
"I've asked myself why you pull away when I get close. Why you shut me out the moment I think we're making progress." She paused, inhaling deeply. "I've wondered if it's because you think I'm weak, or if you're just waiting for me to leave."
Still, he said nothing, but Eira pressed on, her voice softening. "But I think it's none of those things. I think you're afraid—of what I might find if you let me in."
Caius stiffened, his hands gripping the windowsill as though the words struck a nerve. The tension in the room thickened, but Eira didn't falter.
"I'm not here to hurt you, Caius," she said, taking a cautious step closer. "And I'm not here to tear apart whatever defenses you've built. But if you keep running from this—running from me—you'll never escape the past that's haunting you."
He exhaled sharply, the sound a mixture of frustration and resignation. "You speak as though you understand," he said finally, his tone low and biting. "But you don't."
Eira swallowed hard, steadying herself. "Then help me," she replied, her voice unwavering. "Help me understand what it is you're so afraid of."
For a long moment, silence reigned, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire. Caius's head lowered slightly, his shoulders sinking as though he was waging a silent war within himself.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asked, his tone quieter now, laced with a bitterness that didn't quite reach his eyes when he turned to face her.
Eira shook her head, her gaze steady. "Not when I know you're carrying this alone."
The vulnerability in her voice struck something deep within him. Caius studied her for a long moment, his golden eyes dark and unreadable. Then, as though something inside him broke, he sighed heavily.
Caius turned back toward the window, his jaw tightening as if physically restraining himself from speaking further. The tension in the room thickened, and Eira's breath felt heavier in her chest. Still, she didn't move, watching him with a patience born of determination.
"Callista," he said finally, his voice low and strained, each word carrying the weight of a burden he hadn't shared in centuries. He didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on the horizon beyond the dark glass. "was my previous blood-bond."
The confession hung in the air like a knife waiting to drop. Eira didn't flinch, though her chest tightened at the rawness in his tone.
"I thought she was everything I needed," he continued, his hands bracing against the sill. "Smart. Calculated. The perfect complement to my power. Together, we were unstoppable… or so I thought."
His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and Eira's heart clenched at the sound. She took a cautious step closer, her voice gentle. "What happened?"
Caius exhaled, the sound sharp and bitter. "What happened is that I trusted her. Completely. I let her in—gave her my loyalty, my secrets, everything. And she turned it all against me."
The fire popped softly in the hearth, its warmth a stark contrast to the coldness creeping into his tone. "She betrayed me to my enemies," Caius said, his voice growing harder. "Not just for gain, but for sport. She wanted to see how far she could push me before I broke."
Eira's throat tightened, her pulse quickening. "She used the bond," she said, her voice quieter now, less of a question and more of a realization.
"Yes." The word was a growl, the anger beneath it barely restrained. Caius's golden eyes flicked toward her, sharp and piercing, before he turned away again. "Every piece of me I gave her—every vulnerability I thought was safe—became a weapon in her hands. She didn't just betray me. She shattered the very foundation of what I believed in. And when I confronted her, she…" He hesitated, his voice breaking slightly. "She laughed."
Eira felt her chest tighten further, an ache spreading through her as she imagined the betrayal he described. She could see it now—the walls Caius had built to protect himself, the unyielding armor he refused to let her breach. Slowly, she stepped closer until she was within reach.
"And yet," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly as she placed a hand on his arm, "you're still here."
Caius's head tilted slightly, his jaw clenching as if to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "Barely," he muttered, his voice rough. "She took everything I was, and I let her. I won't make that mistake again."
Eira's fingers tightened slightly against his arm, her own emotions threatening to spill over. "You didn't let her, Caius," she said, her voice steady despite the tears pricking her eyes. "She made that choice, not you."
For a long moment, he didn't respond. Then, slowly, Caius turned to face her. The firelight flickered across his sharp features, illuminating the storm in his golden eyes. "And what choice are you making, Eira?" he asked, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. "You say you see me. But do you see the danger in what you're asking for?"
Eira met his gaze head-on, refusing to falter. "I do," she said simply. "But I'm not her. And I won't break what's left of you. I want to help you build it back."
Caius stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then his hand rose, almost hesitant, to cover hers where it rested on his arm. "You don't know what you're asking of me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Maybe not," Eira admitted, her voice soft but firm. "But I know what I'm offering. And that's enough—for now."
Caius stood still, his gaze locked on hers, as if the force of her words had stripped him bare. The space between them seemed impossibly small, yet electric, charged with everything unsaid. Slowly, his hand rose to cup her face, his fingers brushing her cheek with a gentleness that made her heart ache.
"You're dangerous," he murmured, his voice rough and low. "You make me forget everything—even who I am."
Eira's breath hitched, her pulse pounding as the bond pulsed between them, subtle but insistent, drawing them closer. Her fingers curled slightly against his arm, grounding herself in the moment as his golden eyes bore into hers. Their lips hovered close, the air between them heavy with heat and unspoken promises.
But just as the distance between them disappeared, Caius froze. His jaw clenched, the storm in his gaze flickering back to life. With a sharp growl, he pulled away, dropping his hand and stepping back as though her touch burned him.
"You don't understand what you're doing to me," Caius muttered, his voice laced with frustration and something deeper—fear. He turned away from her, his hands bracing against the windowsill once more. "This isn't about your strength, Eira. It's about mine. Or what's left of it."
Eira swallowed hard, the sting of his withdrawal cutting deep. She steadied herself, refusing to let his retreat unravel her. "Caius—"
"Don't," he interrupted, his voice sharp but not unkind. He didn't look at her, his gaze fixed firmly on the horizon. "I need you to understand that this bond—what you make me feel—it's dangerous. More dangerous than Callista ever was."
Eira's chest tightened, but she didn't let his words shake her resolve. She took a step back, her movements slow and deliberate, giving him the space he so desperately seemed to need.
"Good night, Caius." She said simply, turning for the door, but before she left, she let her voice cut through the silence, soft yet undeniable. "You don't have to do this alone," she said, her words carrying the weight of a promise.
Caius flinched, the muscles in his back tensing as if her voice had struck a nerve. But he didn't respond, and Eira didn't wait for him to. She turned and walked toward the door, her footsteps a soft pad in the storm raging inside of him.
REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES 
JadedButCute
JadedButCute Caius and Eira, huh? They are really testing my patience with their “we’re not talking about our feelings” thing. This chapter felt like trying to coax a grumpy cat (Caius) out of a hiding spot while the one person it actually likes (Eira) tries not to scare it off.
I mean, Caius, buddy, just talk about your trauma. Eira isn’t Callista, and we know you know that. And Eira? Props to her for keeping her cool when all she wants to do is shake him and scream, “I’m not going anywhere!” Their bond is practically buzzing with tension, and yet they keep dancing around it.
Also, that almost-kiss? My heart couldn’t handle it. They’re so close to breaking through the walls Caius has spent centuries building, but, of course, he pulls away at the last second. Classic Caius move.
Let me know if you’re ready to throw Caius into the ocean for being stubborn or if you’re rooting for Eira to keep trying to pull him out of his brooding. I’m rooting for these two, even if they drive me a little crazy sometimes. Thanks for reading!
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