ADAM'S WORTH

ᕦ⁠ ⁠~⁠ ⁠•́⊙⁠෴BREAKING DAWN෴⊙•̀⁠ ⁠~⁠ ᕤ Chapter 4:Continuation: I was left alone with my thoughts. Candles were scattered throughout the chamber. Some rested within the great chandelier above me, while others lined the walls, their flames trembling gently in the darkness. I could scarcely see beyond the chandelier. It hung from that impossibly deep, hollow ceiling, suspended as though it had been lowered from the heavens themselves. I could not tell what the ceiling was made of. Gods, I wanted to move. I wanted to standI wanted to feel my own legs beneath me again. But every muscle, every bone, every piece of me felt as though it had been broken and poorly put back together. Then came a knock. I tried to turn towards the door, but the effort strained my neck so painfully that I cursed beneath my breath. “I'm coming in…” The man's voice came from the other side. Was he expecting me to answer him?In this condition? I had barely enough strength to breathe, let alone invite anyone inside. The doorknob gave a metallic click. Then the door creaked open. I waited. No movement. Perhaps the sight of me from the doorway had been enough. Then— “Arsiers!” My name. The voice struck something within me. It was familiar. So painfully familiar. But I could not place it. The figure stepped forward. His footsteps seemed strangely delayed, as though each one echoed a heartbeat after it landed, until at last he reached the bedside. I stared. He looked genuinely relieved to see me. Curly hair framed his face, accompanied by full, bushy brows and sharply defined, almost predatory eyes. His irises were black. Not dark. Black. Onyx. The sort of black one could imagine sinking into and never finding the bottom. He had thin lips, a straight nose, high, hollowed cheekbones, and a jawline so clean it seemed carved rather than formed. He looked… Like a god fashioned by someone with an unhealthy obsession with perfection. My breath caught. Ashdov?. No.It couldn't be. Was I hallucinating? What was happening? My head began to spin. I tried to move. “Hey. Easy there.” His voice softened. “You barely survived the fall.” He was… How? Father had— My thoughts tangled together. I was confused.No.I was beyond confused. I was furious that I was confused.He saw it. The uncertainty in my eyes. The distress. The questions I could not even begin to voice. “It's okay…” he said quietly. He hesitated. “It's okay to be upset. I know.”His voice sounded desperate. Almost pitiful. “You need answers.” A whole damned book of them. “But you need to heal first.” I rolled my eyes, though even that tiny movement exhausted me. My lashes fluttered as my eyes closed for a moment before opening again. “You're exhausted,” he said. “Rest. Your lungs are improving. We sustained you with magic. Barely enough, but you survived.”He stared at me for a long moment. Perhaps he was trying to convince himself that I was truly there. His black, onyx eyes remained fixed upon me, framed by those impossibly long lashes.Then, without another word, he turned away. A black cape draped from his shoulders, stretching almost to the floor. Fine fur lined its neckline, giving him an air of nobility that made the room feel even stranger. “I'll leave you to rest, Arsiers.”And just like that, he left.Simply left. The door closed behind him. Silence returned.I stared at the ceiling.My thoughts were a storm.What's going on? I could feel the confusion gathering behind my eyes, burning until it threatened to spill over. I almost started sobbing. Because I had no idea what was happening.

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