Tainted - Chapter 18

Alexander stood alone, the emptiness around him echoing the void Theia's absence left within him. He was masterful at disguising his emotions, but the mask of indifference was cracking. The icy, emotionless demeanour he clung to was a stark contrast to the storm of feelings that threatened to surface.

Every step Theia took away from him with Cael reverberated in the silent space of the cold, eerie warehouse, leaving behind a stinging reminder of her absence. He was a man who built walls around his emotions, a fortress of solitude and detachment. But Theia had become the unforeseen crack in those walls. She had infiltrated the depths of his soul, uninvited yet irrefutable. As silence encapsulated the space around him, her presence, her voice, her touch haunted his senses. Each thought of their forbidden intimacy was a silent reminder of a night where boundaries blurred, and the truth he tried so hard to deny emerged from the darkness.

His feet moved with a restlessness that matched the unease churning in his soul. The echoing silence of the warehouse was a stark contrast to the noisy turmoil of thoughts and emotions battling within him. The space, vast and cold, was unaccommodating to a man whose emotions ran hot and wild, spurred by the unsettling parting with Theia.

The metallic clang of his boots against the concrete floor filled the air, a lonely and disconcerting melody that did little to quell the storm inside him. The piercing emptiness seemed to amplify the chaos of his thoughts, making them loom larger and more menacing in his mind.

Alexander paced through the empty warehouse, each step echoing the loneliness and the void left by Theia's absence. Theia had become more than just a memory; she had entwined herself deeply into his very soul, haunting every quiet moment. Suddenly, an unexpected change in the atmosphere halted his steps. A lurking shadow, a misplaced sound, the eerie feeling of being watched—silent signs that he wasn't alone. He stopped, muscles taut, senses sharp. The vast warehouse now felt threatening. Sparse beams of light revealed ever-shifting shadows that hinted at hidden dangers. Years of surviving in a perilous world had trained his eyes to catch the minutest details. Even as his heart raced, his breathing remained even. For a moment, the emotional maelstrom within was overshadowed by his instincts—the instincts of a fighter, a protector.

Amid the stifling silence, the subtle sounds of the city, rustling wind, and dripping water grew louder. But amongst these, a faint, barely discernible sound stood out—the breathing of another. Alexander wasn't alone. Memories of Theia took a backseat as the tension of a looming confrontation built. Her ghostly absence, though, still lingered, becoming an underlying force as he braced for the danger hiding in the warehouse's dark corners.

Just as the realisation sank into Alexander’s bones, the attack came. The anticipation of a confrontation, however, had not prepared him for the swiftness and ferocity that now descended upon him. A shadow, ominous and silent, unfurled from the darkness, its form delineated by the sharp, intermittent gleams of the moonlight piercing through the slats of the worn warehouse windows.

A figure, masked and enigmatic, lunged at Alexander with a speed that belied the sinister grace of a seasoned assassin. Every fibre of Alexander’s being switched to combat mode, his body responding with mechanical precision, borne from years of training and survival. The haunted echoes of Theia’s absence were suddenly drowned by the adrenal surge of the fight.

The assailant was skilled, moving with a fluidity that made them a shadow, a wisp of danger that was as elusive as it was deadly. Alexander dodged, his body weaving an intricate dance of evasion and attack. The cold, haunting light of the warehouse cast an ethereal glow on the confrontation, rendering it a dance of shadows, both menacing and mesmerising. Each strike from the masked assailant was met with a parry, every lunge with a dodge. The silent dance of combat resonated with the haunting echoes of the warehouse, a chilling symphony of survival and conquest. But amidst the physical confrontation, the shadow of Theia’s absence loomed, a haunting spectre that rendered every strike, every dodge, a dance of torment. As the assailant lunged again, the glint of a blade emerged, silver and ominous under the cold light. Alexander, though swift and seasoned, felt the icy kiss of the blade graze his arm. Pain, sharp and potent, was both a testament to his humanity and the ominous threat of the enigmatic attacker. Alexander was not a man to succumb, with a feral growl, borne from the depths of a soul tormented by haunting absences and silent storms, he retaliated. His strike, fierce and unyielding, found its mark. The assailant, swift yet mortal, faltered.

The car’s interior was silent except for the low hum of the engine. Theia stared out of the window, watching the dark landscape rush by, a blend of shadows and shapes under the moon’s pale glow. Beside her, Cael drove with focused attention, his hands firm on the wheel, his eyes on the road.

“Theia,” Cael broke the silence, his voice steady yet cautious. “We need to get out of here. It’s for your safety.”

Theia turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. His features were shadowed, making it hard to read his expression. A surge of unease shot through her. She didn’t like being kept in the dark.

“I deserve to know where we’re going, Cael,” she said, her voice firm but tinged with frustration. “You can’t just whisk me away without an explanation.”

Cael glanced at her, his eyes briefly meeting hers. There was a seriousness in his gaze that unnerved her.

“I wish I could tell you everything, Theia, but it’s not that simple,” he replied, turning his attention back to the road.

Theia crossed her arms, her frustration boiling over. “I’m not some helpless girl, Cael. I’ve been in the middle of all this chaos. Don’t you think I have the right to know what’s happening?”

Cael exhaled, a sound of restrained agitation. “It’s not about undermining your strength or capability, Theia,” he said, his voice stern yet laced with an underlying respect. “There are elements, factors that are… delicate. I can’t risk exposing you to them until I’m certain it’s safe.”

Theia’s eyes flared with indignation. “So, you want me to just sit quietly, to follow you blindly?”

Cael’s jaw tightened. “I want you to trust me,” he said emphatically. “I'm doing everything I can to keep you safe.”

Theia turned her gaze back to the window. The cold, fleeting landscape outside mirrored the icy silence that fell between them.

Cael’s voice softened. “I know you feel left out, but understand it’s to protect you. As soon as I can, I promise, you’ll know everything.”

The car plunged forward into the night, wrapping them in a silence that was thick with unspoken tensions and haunting uncertainties. The road stretched endlessly before them, a monotonous path that wove through the silent, imposing forests. The previous conversation hung in the air, an unsettling silence filled the space between them. Cael’s focus remained steady on the road, yet his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, calculations, and unsolved puzzles. A silence ensued, marked by an undercurrent of tension and unsaid words, before Cael turned his gaze towards Theia. The sharp yet concealed scrutiny of his eyes laid bare the undercurrents of emotions that Theia struggled to mask.

Cael’s voice was calm yet probing, "Have you and Alexander finally decided to bury the hatchet?" The question, innocent yet pointed, shot through the silence like a piercing arrow. Theia’s gaze flitted away, her eyes betraying the storm of emotions raging within.

"No," she responded, her voice a mix of defiance and evasion, "we haven’t 'settled' anything."

Cael was unnervingly astute and perceptive, and had noted the fleeting hesitation in her voice, the subtle spark in her eyes.

"Really?" he pressed further, his tone light yet insistent. "Because it seemed like the air between you two had changed."

Theia’s defences rose, words of denials threatened to spill from her lips but the unrelenting scrutiny of Cael’s gaze stopped her from saying anything abruptly. "We’ve had our moments, but it doesn’t change anything, Cael," she responded, her tone betraying her defiance and showed her vulnerability.

Cael’s gaze lingered, an unspoken question hanging in the air. "You know," Cael's voice cut through the silent tension, "I’ve always noticed something peculiar about the way Alexander looks at you." The revelation hung in the air.

Theia’s heart raced, "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cael." Her voice was steady, yet beneath the surface calm, a storm of emotions raged.

Cael’s smile was enigmatic, "Theia, I’ve known Alexander for years. His gaze has always been indifference, but his eyes betray him when you’re around."

Theia’s grip on the edge of the seat tightened. She stared out of the window, the dark forests a reflection of the tumultuous emotions that threatened to spill over. "You’re mistaken, Cael," she responded, attempting to evade the direction their conversation was heading.

But Cael, pressed further. "Am I, Theia?"

Theia was silent, the words echoing with a haunting resonance.

"Theia, no matter how much you avoid admitting it, something's shifted between you both," Cael said, his voice softer now, sensing the internal conflict churning within her. The air in the car grew thick with tension, every passing moment amplifying the unsaid emotions. Theia felt overwhelmed, trying to contain the flood of feelings she'd kept locked away. Cael, always the picture of composure, kept his focus on the road ahead, his emotions hidden, much like the mysteries of the dark journey they embarked on.

Seeking a distraction, Theia mustered the courage to ask, "Cael, why haven't you considered dating again?"

The question seemed to still the world around them. She realized she'd broached a delicate topic, invoking memories of Cael's late fiancée—a topic enshrouded in pain and unspoken grief.

Cael took a deep breath, letting the silence linger before answering, "It isn't that simple, Theia." His words carried the weight of profound sorrow. The endless road mirrored the ongoing journey of coming to terms with his past—a journey Cael was still navigating.

Stealing a glance at him, Theia noticed the play of shadows on his face, reflecting his internal turmoil. She trod lightly, sensing the depth of his pain. "Is it because of her?" she whispered, leaving the name of Cael's late fiancée unspoken.

He didn't turn to her, his gaze steady on the road. Still, Theia felt the weight of his heartache. "There are wounds, Theia," he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion, "that run so deep, they become ingrained in our very being."