Chapter Twenty-Nine
Choosing Distance
Hazel POV
Distance is not silence.
I learned that the hard way.
Silence is empty. Distance is deliberate.
I put miles between myself and Caleb—not because I hated him, not because the bond was broken, but because every time I felt him breathe through it, every time his pain brushed against mine like an open wound, my resolve wavered.
And I could not afford to waver.
The forest I chose lay north of the ruins, where the land rose sharply and the air thinned enough to burn the lungs if you weren't careful. Old stone terraces cut into the cliffs like scars, remnants of a pack that had vanished centuries ago. No wards. No watchers. Just raw terrain and older magic that didn't care who you were.
Perfect.
I moved before dawn, body sore but obedient, power humming beneath my skin like a storm waiting for permission. I ran until my breath came hard and steady, until thought dissolved into instinct. When my legs gave out, I climbed. When my hands bled, I kept going.
Pain was simple.
Pain didn't lie.
By midmorning, sweat soaked my clothes and my muscles trembled from overuse. I welcomed it. Every ache reminded me that I was still here. Still choosing.
Still mine.
Flora did not speak.
At first, I thought she was resting—licking her own wounds after everything Helena had torn through us. But hours passed. Then a full day. Then another.
Nothing.
No hum of approval. No sharp commentary. No quiet comfort curling in my chest.
Just… absence.
I stopped during one of my breaks, bracing my hands on my knees as I caught my breath. The realization hit slow, then all at once.
"Flora?" I asked quietly.
Nothing answered.
Not silence—emptiness.
I pressed a hand to my sternum, right where if always mostly felt her. "Hey. I know you're angry. I know I shut you out too, but—"
Still nothing.
Helene was gone. That much I knew with brutal certainty. No echo. No pressure. No sense of her watching from behind my thoughts. When I'd forced her out, it hadn't been a rupture.
It had been an ending.
Flora, though—
I swallowed.
"You're not gone," I said, more to myself than anything. "You're just… quiet."
I didn't know which possibility scared me more.
I resumed training.
If grief wanted to catch me, it would have to work harder.
I practiced until my arms shook, until my strikes cracked stone and sent fractures racing through the cliff face. I sparred with shadows, imagined opponents with the faces of kings and gods alike. I sharpened my speed until the world blurred when I moved, sharpened my control until the power no longer lashed out on instinct but coiled, waiting.
Waiting for command.
By the third night, Lucien found me.
I sensed him before I saw him—the careful way he approached, like someone entering a room with shattered glass on the floor. He didn't cross the boundary I'd unconsciously set. He stopped several steps away, hands loose at his sides.
"You're bleeding," he said.
I glanced down at my forearm. A shallow cut, already healing. "It's fine."
"You've been pushing too hard."
I snorted softly. "That's kind of the point."
Lucien studied me, eyes sharp but tired. He looked like someone who hadn't slept properly in days. Guilt clung to him like a second skin.
"I won't stay long," he said. "I just… needed to see you."
I didn't tell him to leave.
That was the difference.
We stood there for a moment, the wind tugging at my hair, the night stretched wide and watchful around us.
"I've thought about a lot of things from yesterday til this morning and I'm not angry with you," I said finally.
Lucien stiffened. "Hazel—"
"I mean it." I turned to face him fully. "You didn't owe me the truth. Not alone. And you weren't the one who orchestrated any of this."
His jaw clenched. "I still kept things from you."
"Yes," I agreed. "And I understand why."
That seemed to hit him harder than if I'd accused him.
"You were trying to protect me," I continued, voice steady. "Even if it was the wrong call. I won't hold that against you."
Lucien exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding his breath since the day we met. "Thank you."
"But," I added, meeting his gaze, "that doesn't mean I'm okay. Or ready. Or capable of pretending things didn't change."
"I know," he said quietly.
"I need time," I said. "And space. From everyone. Including you. But you're still my ride or die" I said and winked.
He chuckled nodded without argument. "I figured. Thank you Hazel."
I hesitated, then asked the question that had been circling my thoughts for days. "Did Caleb follow you?"
Lucien didn't look away. "No."
Good.
"I didn't expect him to agree with me," I said slowly. "About the royals."
Lucien's brow furrowed. "He does."
I laughed once, sharp and humorless. "That's what scares me."
Lucien studied me carefully. "He knows more than you think."
"I know," I said. "But not everything. And right now, it doesn't matter."
"What matters," I continued, "is that this doesn't end with her."
Lucien's eyes darkened. "Helena."
"Yes."
The word tasted like iron.
"She moved us like pieces on a board," I said, heat building beneath my calm. "Caleb, Helene, Magnus, You, Me, All of us. She chose who lived, who died, who remembered, who forgot. Abd Selene as usual just watched."
I clenched my fists.
"I'm done playing."
Lucien searched my face. "What are you planning?"
I didn't soften it for him.
"I'm going to kill the royals," I said. "Every last one who signed off on the Thornblood massacre. Every council member who buried the truth. And if the gods try to stop me—"
I smiled, slow and cold.
"I'll end their games too."
The wind howled, like the world itself reacting.
Lucien didn't flinch.
Instead, he inclined his head. "Then I'll make sure you're not alone when the time comes."
"I didn't ask you to."
"I know."
We stood there a moment longer, then he stepped back, respecting the line I'd drawn. Before he turned away, he paused.
"You're not broken, Hazel," he said quietly. "You're becoming."
I didn't answer.
I watched him disappear into the trees, then turned back to the cliff edge, the vast darkness stretching out before me.
Flora remained silent.
Helene was gone.
The bond still pulsed—distant, restrained, unresolved.
And beneath it all, my purpose burned clearer than it ever had before.
No more gods.
No more kings.
No more blood paid for their power.
I would end this.
Even if the world had to bleed with me.