Key Story (2) - Chapter 8
Sleep had never come. How could it, when every time Raxian closed his eyes, his mind spiraled into the darkest possibilities? Sable was out there—somewhere—and he didn't even know if she was still alive. That thought twisted like a knife in his gut. The image of her, tied up, alone in the dark, haunted him. But even worse, his mind wouldn't stop conjuring up the possibility that she might already be gone.
Every scenario, every horrible "what if" gnawed at him relentlessly. What if they were too late? What if she had already suffered more than he could imagine? The silence surrounding her disappearance was deafening, suffocating. And he couldn't stop thinking about the last time he saw her—their fight, the way things had been left unresolved. What if those had been the last words they ever exchanged?
The thought made his chest tighten, a hollow ache settling deep inside him.
What if she's dead?
Raxian squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the brutal thought, but it clawed its way back to the surface, relentless. He couldn't shake the fear that he'd lost her for good. And the worst part? He hadn't been there. She had needed him, and he hadn't been there.
Guilt gnawed at him, his fists clenching into the sheets beneath him as he twisted in frustration. Everyone, from Fayne to Raze, kept telling him it wasn't his fault—that he couldn't have known. But how could it not be? He should've seen the signs, should've noticed the change in Sable's behavior, the tension that had built up between them. Instead, he'd let his own frustrations get in the way, pushing her further away when she needed him the most.
Now she was gone, and he didn't even know if she was still alive to be found. The thought of Lynx—Lynx—having her, hurting her, made his blood boil. It wasn't just fear that kept him awake; it was the anger, too. The idea that Lynx, or whoever was responsible, could be doing God knows what to her while he lay here, helpless, tore him apart inside.
She's strong. The rational part of his mind whispered, but it was weak, drowned out by the storm raging inside him. She'll survive this. But the darker thoughts followed close behind: What if it's already too late? What if she's already gone?
His heart pounded in his chest, the fear morphing into a visceral ache that left him feeling hollow. He wanted to tear apart the walls, to lash out at something, anything that would make him feel like he had some semblance of control. But all he could do was lie there, consumed by guilt and helplessness. He was supposed to protect her. That was his job. And now… now he didn't even know if she was still alive.
Raxian threw the covers off in frustration, sitting up and running his hands through his hair. His eyes flickered to the journal on his desk, the one Fayne had given him for Christmas. It sat there, mocking him. A place to put his thoughts, to process everything he wasn't saying out loud. But right now, what could he even say? That he was scared out of his mind? That he didn't know how to cope with the possibility of Sable being gone?
He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to face the possibility of losing her.
His chest tightened as he stared at the journal, and for a brief moment, he considered throwing it across the room. But instead, he reached for it, flipping it open to the first blank page. The pen in his hand felt heavy, like it didn't belong there. But what else could he do? He had to get it out, even if it felt pointless. Even if the words wouldn't change a damn thing.
He began to write, the words spilling out faster than he expected.
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Journal Entry:
I don't know if she's alive.
I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop imagining what they might be doing to her, what Lynx might be doing to her. And I don't know if she's even alive anymore.
I can't breathe.
I keep replaying everything in my head—our last conversation, the way we fought, the way I left her standing there. I should've been there. I should've stopped her from walking away, but I didn't. I let her down, and now she's gone.
I've never felt so helpless in my life. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face, and I don't know if I'll ever see it again in real life. I can't stand the thought that she might be dead. I can't.
And I don't even know where to start looking. All I have are fragments, dead ends, and the feeling that time is running out.
If she's gone, it's my fault. And if she's alive... I'll tear apart the world to get her back.
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Raxian dropped the pen, his hand trembling slightly as the weight of the words settled over him. He didn't feel any better—not really—but at least now the thoughts weren't trapped inside his head. They were out there, written down, something tangible he could confront. But they didn't feel any less real. The fear, the guilt, the anger—they all still gnawed at him, refusing to let go.
He shut the journal and set it aside. The buzzing of his phone snapped him out of the haze. Fayne had texted, checking in, asking if he was okay. He didn't know how to answer that. How could he be okay when Sable might be dead?
After a long moment, he typed a quick reply: "Yeah. Be there soon."
As he stood up to leave, his legs felt like lead, weighed down by the uncertainty, by the fear that, when they finally found Sable, it would be too late.
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Raxian stepped into the café where they had agreed to meet up after their break, the familiar scent of coffee and pastries wafting in the air. The space felt almost suffocating to him despite its usual warmth. Normally, he'd appreciate the coziness, but today it just felt stifling. The soft hum of conversation and clinking of cups seemed distant, like a fog that separated him from reality.
He spotted Fayne and Raze sitting in a corner booth, their faces reflecting the same exhaustion he felt. They'd been up all night, too, and though the café was a brief respite, the urgency hung thick in the air between them. Fayne gave him a small wave, but Raxian barely acknowledged it as he slid into the seat across from them.
"Hey," Fayne said softly, her voice tinged with concern. "You okay?"
Raxian didn't answer right away. He wasn't okay, and they both knew it. His mind was still locked in the same loop of worry, fear, and guilt. He hadn't been able to shake the image of Sable in some unknown, terrifying place, possibly injured—or worse. He couldn't bring himself to think about it directly, but it gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, an ever-present shadow he couldn't escape.
Instead, he mumbled, "Yeah. Just tired."
Fayne and Raze exchanged a glance, but neither pushed him. They knew him well enough by now to understand when he wasn't in the mood to talk about his feelings.
"We're all tired," Raze said, breaking the tension. "But we're not stopping. Not until we find her."
Raxian's jaw tightened. He appreciated Raze's determination, but the optimism felt almost insulting at this point. They had been searching for hours, with nothing to show for it. For all they knew, Sable could be—
He cut off the thought, his fingers curling into fists under the table. Don't go there. Don't let your mind go there.
"How's Milo doing with the lead?" Fayne asked, looking to Raze for any update.
"He's digging into it," Raze replied. "Said he's found some suspicious activity around Lynx. Something about his recent matches, his movements off-game too. But he's still piecing it together."
Raxian's chest tightened at the mention of Lynx. His hatred for the guy surged, and with it, a new wave of fear. The idea that Lynx had something to do with this made his skin crawl. He clenched his fists harder, his knuckles white under the table. The image of Lynx smirking as he closed in on Sable flickered through his mind, sending a jolt of anger and helplessness through him.
Fayne's voice broke through his thoughts. "We're going to find her, Raxian. Milo's onto something. We just need to hang in there."
"Hang in there?" Raxian snapped, unable to contain himself anymore. His voice came out sharper than intended, and both Fayne and Raze flinched at the sudden outburst. "We've been hanging in there for hours, Fayne. And we've got nothing. She could be anywhere, and we're sitting in a damn café!"
The words echoed in the small space, drawing a few glances from nearby patrons. Raxian didn't care. His frustration boiled over, a toxic mix of guilt and fear fueling the outburst. Fayne looked at him, her expression a mix of concern and understanding. She knew he was unraveling, but she didn't say anything, letting the silence between them settle.
Raze cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension. "Milo's working fast, man. He said he's narrowing down locations. We'll get a break soon."
Raxian didn't respond. He couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that every second they wasted in this café was another second Sable was suffering. Or worse. The thought twisted inside him, and he found it harder and harder to breathe.
"I shouldn't have left her," he muttered, more to himself than to them. "I should've been there."
Fayne reached across the table, placing a hand on his. It was a gentle gesture, but it grounded him, pulling him out of the spiraling thoughts. "You couldn't have known," she said softly. "None of us did."
Raxian looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "But it's still my fault."
Fayne opened her mouth to argue, but Raze beat her to it. "Look, man. None of this is your fault. We're going to find her, and when we do, we'll deal with whoever's behind it. But blaming yourself isn't helping anyone—not Sable, and not us."
Raxian knew Raze was right, but the guilt wasn't something he could just shake off. It clung to him, a constant reminder that he hadn't been there when Sable needed him most. And now, she was out there, somewhere, because he'd failed.
He pulled his hand away from Fayne's, running it through his hair as he leaned back in his seat. His body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and the burden of his thoughts. "What if she's not…"
He couldn't say it. What if she's not alive? The words hung unspoken, but they were there, lingering between them. Saying it out loud would make it real, and Raxian wasn't ready for that.
Fayne's eyes softened, as if she understood what he couldn't say. She didn't push him to finish the thought. Instead, she squeezed his arm gently, offering a quiet reassurance.
Before anyone could say more, Raxian's phone buzzed on the table. He grabbed it, hoping for news from Milo. His heart raced as he unlocked the screen.
Milo (text): "Got something. Possible location. Sending it now."
Raxian's pulse quickened as a map popped up on his screen, a pin dropped at a location on the outskirts of the city. He showed it to Fayne and Raze, the tension between them spiking.
"This is it," Raze said, his voice low. "Let's move."
Raxian didn't need to be told twice. He was already out of his seat, grabbing his jacket, the familiar surge of adrenaline kicking in. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, they had a lead—a real one.
But as they rushed out of the café, that gnawing fear still twisted inside him. They were getting closer, but so was Lynx. And every second counted.
He wasn't just fighting to find Sable.
He was fighting against the darkest part of himself—the part that feared he might be too late.
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Sable's eyes fluttered open, and her head throbbed in agonizing pulses, each beat sending shockwaves of pain that made it hard to think. For a moment, she was lost in a sea of darkness, the fog clouding her mind too thick to penetrate. Her eyelids felt heavy, as though a weight held them down, but when she forced them open, it was no comfort.
The darkness stretched out around her, oppressive and thick. She blinked, hoping her vision would clear, but the faint flicker of a dim, almost dying light above her barely illuminated the room—a room that felt like a void. The shadows clung to the edges of her perception, making the walls feel like they were closing in.
Panic began to creep into her chest, her pulse hammering against her ribs. She tried to move, but her body wouldn't cooperate—her limbs felt unnaturally heavy, like they were sinking into the chair beneath her. The cold, rough bite of ropes around her wrists and ankles sent a new jolt of fear through her. She tugged at them instinctively, wincing as the restraints cut into her skin. Bound. Helpless.
No. Stay calm. Think.
Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps as she forced herself to focus, her eyes darting frantically around the room. It was hard to make anything out, but she could feel the cold seeping through the concrete floor beneath her feet, its chill biting into her bones. The air smelled stale, thick with the scent of mold and dampness, as if this place had been long forgotten—like a tomb. The realization made her stomach twist violently.
Where am I?
Fragments of memory flickered in her mind, disjointed and hazy. She had been on the rooftop—an argument with Raxian, frustration simmering between them. And then… the sudden rush of adrenaline. A shadow moving too quickly. Then blackness. She had no idea how long she had been here, or where "here" even was.
Her heart raced faster, panic clawing at her throat. Focus, Sable. Get it together.
The only sound in the room was the faint, rhythmic drip of water somewhere far off. The stillness was suffocating, pressing down on her, squeezing her chest. She fought against the rising fear, struggling to maintain control. This wasn't just a game anymore. This wasn't something she could respawn from.
The sound of a latch turning pierced the silence, sharp and metallic. It echoed off the concrete walls, making her entire body tense. Every muscle froze as her breath hitched in her throat. The heavy door at the far side of the room groaned open, and the creak of its hinges reverberated through the air like the opening of a coffin.
A figure stepped through the doorway, and Sable's blood ran cold.
Lynx.
The dim light flickered ominously as he moved into the room, casting long shadows that danced across the floor. He didn't rush. His steps were slow, deliberate, each one calculated, as if savoring the moment. The soft scuff of his boots on the floor was the only sound that punctuated the silence, echoing like the ticking of a clock counting down her fate.
Sable's heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. Her fingers twitched against the ropes, her wrists burning as she tugged against the restraints again, more desperate this time. She had to get out. She had to escape before he got too close.
But there was no escape.
Lynx's sharp green eyes gleamed with a chilling intensity that sent ice shooting down her spine. He looked even more dangerous in person, his wild, messy black hair and the torn-up hoodie giving him an unhinged edge that the screen could never fully capture. His entire presence was predatory, like a beast who had finally cornered his prey, and that sickening smirk on his face made her skin crawl.
"Well, well," he drawled, his voice low and mocking, every word dripping with arrogance. "Look who's finally awake."
Sable's mouth went dry. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to meet his gaze, refusing to show him how terrified she was. But the way his eyes locked onto her made her feel like she was drowning in those green pools of malice.
Lynx stepped closer, his boots scraping against the floor with a deliberate slowness, dragging out the moment. His silver chain clinked softly with every movement, a small, mocking sound that seemed to taunt her.
The closer he got, the colder the room seemed to become.
He crouched down in front of her, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied her face, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. His smirk widened, and Sable had to fight the urge to recoil. His presence was suffocating, his nearness sending her pulse racing in terrified beats.
"You," he said softly, with a sickeningly amused tone, as though the answer had always been obvious. "I've been watching you."
Sable's stomach twisted violently. Her heart hammered so hard it felt like her ribcage was about to crack from the pressure. Watching me?
Her mind raced, struggling to process his words, but every second in his presence felt like another layer of fear crushing down on her. Why me?
"What… what do you want?" Sable finally managed, her voice coming out hoarse but steady enough. She tried to maintain control, to keep the panic at bay, but the dread was creeping into her words.
Lynx's eyes darkened, and the air between them seemed to thicken with the weight of his twisted obsession. He leaned in closer, the smirk on his face turning almost predatory as he reached out, brushing a lock of her hair away from her face.
Sable stiffened. The gesture, though seemingly gentle, felt more like an invasion, a violation of her space, her control. His hand lingered too long, and the touch made her skin crawl. She clenched her fists behind her back, nails digging into her palms.
"You're different," he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent. "You don't break. Not like the others. You push back. You challenge Raxian." His smirk widened. "And that makes you... interesting."
Sable's pulse quickened, the word "interesting" twisting like a knife in her gut. The thinly veiled obsession behind his words sent a cold chill racing down her spine. It wasn't her that interested him—it was the power, the control. The thrill of the hunt. The idea that he could manipulate Raxian through her.
Her body trembled, but she forced her voice to remain steady, cold. "You're insane," she spat, her words sharp enough to cut through the tension.
Lynx chuckled softly, a dark, low sound that made her blood run cold. "Maybe," he said, his voice like silk, wrapping around her like a noose. He stood slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as he stepped back, his gaze burning into her. "But this isn't about sanity, Sable. This is about control."
The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as Lynx circled her like a wolf sizing up his prey. Sable strained against the ropes, her skin burning where they bit into her flesh. This isn't happening. This can't be real.
"You think this is just about Raxian, don't you?" Lynx's voice cut through her thoughts, smooth and cold. "But it's not. This is about power. About proving who's really in control." His eyes flickered with something darker, more dangerous. "And you? You're the key to showing him just how wrong he is."
Sable's heart raced, her mind spinning in a desperate attempt to figure out an escape. Lynx was unstable—she could see it in his eyes. But if she could use that instability, if she could find a crack in his control…
"I'm not afraid of you," Sable said, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. She met his gaze with as much defiance as she could muster, refusing to let him see how terrified she was. "You don't have control over me."
Lynx's smirk returned, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—something she couldn't quite place. "We'll see about that," he said softly. He turned, his hand resting on the door handle as he cast one last look at her. "But for now, you're right where I want you."
The door slammed shut behind him, and the sound echoed through the room like the toll of a death knell.
Sable was alone again, the darkness pressing in, suffocating. But her mind was sharper now, her thoughts clearer. Lynx thought he had the upper hand, but she wasn't going to let him win. Not this time.
She wasn't a victim.
She was going to get out of this.
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The rain fell in sheets, heavy and relentless, hammering against the pavement as they raced down the streets. Each drop splattered against Raxian's skin, cold and biting, soaking through his jacket, but he barely registered it. His pulse thundered in his ears, a maddening rhythm that grew louder with every step. Sable was out there. She needed him. And all he could think about was getting to her before it was too late.
His mind was a whirlpool of fear and fury, and every second felt like it was slipping through his fingers—like time itself was mocking him. Too slow. You're too slow.
The world around him blurred, reduced to a maze of shadows and streaks of gray as they sprinted through the rain-soaked streets. Raxian's heart pounded harder with every step, his chest tightening with the weight of what lay ahead. Milo's message had given them a lead—a real, solid lead—but now that they were getting closer, that gnawing panic that had clung to him since Sable's disappearance was rising to a fever pitch.
What if we're too late? What if she's…
He couldn't finish the thought. The idea of Lynx—his predatory grin looming over Sable—made his stomach churn with dread. Every second they wasted was another second Lynx had with her.
Raxian clenched his jaw, trying to swallow the rising bile in his throat as the rain pounded against his skin. His legs burned, every muscle in his body aching, but he couldn't stop. Fayne and Raze kept pace beside him, but no one spoke. The silence was thick—charged with desperation none of them dared to voice.
"This is it," Raze muttered, his voice almost drowned out by the storm as they rounded the corner. The warehouse loomed ahead, dark and imposing against the downpour. His usual easygoing nature was gone, replaced with quiet urgency. He wasn't just a friend anymore—he was a brother, ready to fight.
The warehouse stood like a shadowed fortress, its windows dark and hollow, as if they were staring back at him. Raxian's breath caught in his throat. His body vibrated with tension, every nerve on edge. Sable was in there. He could feel it.
"Rax…" Fayne's voice was soft but steady, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. He hadn't realized he had stopped, feet frozen just steps from the entrance.
His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white. His whole body trembled—not from the cold, but from the surge of emotion crashing over him. Rage. Fear. Desperation. It all boiled inside him, and it felt like if he didn't do something—if he didn't move now—he'd break.
"Raxian!" Fayne's voice sharpened, cutting through the pounding rain. She gripped his arm, forcing him to turn and meet her gaze. Her eyes burned with determination, her wet hair plastered to her face. "We'll get her back. But you can't go in like this. We need you. She needs you."
The buzzing in his mind quieted just enough for him to catch his breath, her grip anchoring him as he stared at the looming warehouse. Lynx was in there. With Sable. Every second that passed felt like another knife in his gut.
Raxian nodded, though his heart still hammered violently in his chest. He couldn't lose control. Not now.
They pushed forward, the rain only intensifying as they reached the entrance. Raze stepped up first, prying open the rusted metal door. It groaned loudly, sending shivers down Raxian's spine. They stepped inside, greeted by the cold, empty darkness of the warehouse. The storm outside was a constant drum, echoing through the cavernous space.
"Stay close," Raxian muttered, his voice barely more than a whisper, though it carried in the hollow quiet of the building.
They moved through the shadows like ghosts, the faint echo of rain tapping against the warehouse roof was the only sound cutting through the silence. Raxian's heart pounded in his chest, each step forward amplifying the storm raging inside him. His hands trembled, knuckles white as he clenched his fists, trying to fight the rising panic that clawed at him from the inside.
And then, he saw it.
Through a narrow crack in the wall to one of the back rooms, a dim light flickered—barely visible, but enough to stop his breath. His pulse quickened as he edged closer, squinting through the small opening. The light was weak, barely illuminating the room beyond, but it was enough to reveal her.
Sable.
His stomach twisted violently, a sickening churn of fear and rage. She was slumped forward, tied to a chair, her black hair streaked with blue layers falling like a curtain over her face. The strands were damp and tangled, clinging to her skin as if she'd been sweating, fighting. The dim light cast eerie shadows over her pale skin, making her appear even more fragile, almost ghostlike.
Raxian's breath hitched. His chest tightened as he took in the scene, his eyes tracing every detail of her appearance. Her clothes were torn, her hoodie frayed at the edges, exposing her thin arms. Her black jeans were stained with dirt, and the checkered patterns on her sleeves were faintly illuminated, making the scene feel more surreal. Ropes bound her wrists tightly behind the chair, the skin beneath them red and raw from the strain. The sight of those bindings—how they cut into her flesh—made something snap inside him.
"Sable..." The name escaped him in a hoarse whisper, his throat constricting with emotion. She stirred slightly at the sound, her body shifting in the chair, but she was too weak to lift her head. The sight of her like this—vulnerable, broken—tore through him like a blade.
He couldn't take it.
Without thinking, Raxian reached for the door handle, fury and desperation surging through him, but before he could make a move, a strong hand clamped onto his arm, pulling him back.
"Raxian!" Fayne's urgent whisper cut through the fog of his rage. She was right beside him, her fingers digging into his arm. "We can't just charge in! We need a plan!" Her voice was low but sharp, the fear in her eyes clear.
Raxian's entire body trembled as he fought against her grip. His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurring as the images of Sable—alone, terrified, bound—flooded his mind. His heart hammered against his ribcage, the thought of Lynx being anywhere near her making his skin crawl. He wanted to rip the door off its hinges, to tear apart anything standing between him and her. But Fayne's grip didn't loosen.
"I'm not leaving her!" he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice barely controlled. His eyes flicked back to the crack in the door, where he could see Sable's chest rising and falling weakly. She was still breathing, but for how long?
"We won't," Fayne whispered fiercely, stepping in front of him, blocking his path. "But if you rush in now, we could lose her for good. Think, Rax. Please."
Her words cut through the haze of his fury, piercing him like ice. For a moment, everything seemed to still—except for the rapid pounding of his heart. His gaze locked onto Sable again, and the tight knot of fear in his chest grew. He forced himself to breathe, forced himself to think. He couldn't lose her. Not now. Not like this.
He sucked in a shaky breath, his body still trembling as he nodded. Fayne's grip eased slightly, but her eyes never left his, as if daring him to crumble. Raze, standing just behind them, stepped forward, his expression grim but determined.
"We'll get her," Raze murmured, his voice steady in the tension-filled air. "But we have to be smart."
Raxian nodded again, his throat tightening with barely suppressed emotion. He glanced back through the door's crack, his heart sinking at the sight of Sable's limp form. Every fiber of his being screamed to charge in, to end this nightmare, but Fayne and Raze were right. If he let his anger control him, they could lose everything.
"We go in slow," Raxian whispered, his voice trembling but resolute, the weight of everything they had been through hanging heavy on his words. "Fayne, Raze—you take the side entrance. I'll go in through the front. We corner him."
Fayne hesitated for only a split second, her eyes searching Raxian's face, but there was no time for doubts. She nodded, her features hardening with determination. Raze gave a brief nod as well, his usual light-hearted demeanor gone, replaced with a seriousness that reflected the gravity of the situation.
The rain outside had picked up, its rhythm pounding against the warehouse's worn exterior like a thousand tiny drums, adding to the tension in the air. The sky, once bright, had turned gray and oppressive, casting a grim shadow over the world. Every raindrop felt like a countdown, reminding them that they were running out of time.
They split off, Raxian moving toward the main door, each step sending a shock of nerves through him. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, his pulse matching the chaotic rhythm of the storm outside. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the world was closing in on him, shrinking down to a singular goal: reaching Sable, getting her out of this hell.
His hand wrapped around the door handle, slick from the rain that had soaked through his jacket, and he froze for a brief moment. He strained to hear anything beyond the sound of rain. There it was—faint movements inside, a low muttering. Lynx was in there. With her.
Something snapped inside Raxian.
The scene in front of him was like something out of a nightmare. Through the narrow crack in the door, Raxian saw her—Sable, bound to a chair, looking as though the world had drained every last bit of her strength. Her black hair, streaked with vivid blue strands, clung to her face in loose, tangled waves. The familiar hoodie she always wore, oversized and cozy with its intricate geometric designs, now looked like a burden on her small frame. Her sleeves were torn, dirtied from the floor she had been dragged across, and the sight of the ropes biting into her pale skin made Raxian's stomach churn.
The flickering light above cast shadows that danced across her face, revealing the faint bruises along her wrists and ankles where the ropes had been pulled tight. Her head was slumped forward, her hair covering her face like a curtain, but even with her eyes hidden, he could feel the pain radiating from her still form.
And then there was Lynx.
Raxian's jaw clenched as he spotted him, standing mere inches from Sable. Lynx's posture was casual—too casual, as if he had all the time in the world, savoring his control over the situation. His fingers, adorned with silver rings, reached out to Sable's chin, gripping it tightly. His nails dug into her skin, his thumb pressing hard enough to make Raxian's blood boil. Sable's head was forced upward, her face tilted toward his. Lynx leaned in, his sharp green eyes locking onto her, his gaze predatory and unrelenting.
The way Lynx invaded her space made Raxian want to tear the door down with his bare hands. He watched as Lynx's lips curled into a smirk, as if he was savoring every second of her vulnerability. The sickening arrogance in his expression sent a surge of rage through Raxian's veins, his fingers curling into fists as he struggled to keep himself from smashing through the door.
Lynx's voice was low, almost taunting, though Raxian couldn't make out the words from where he stood. But it didn't matter. The way Lynx held her chin, the way his fingers moved with deliberate cruelty, digging into her soft skin—it was all Raxian could focus on. His breath quickened, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that it drowned out everything else.
Sable's body remained limp, her head held up only by Lynx's hand, but her fingers twitched, just barely. It was enough to break Raxian's heart all over again. She was still fighting, even if she couldn't fully move—still trying to hold on despite everything.
But Raxian couldn't wait any longer. Every second Lynx spent touching her was a second too long. His vision blurred with fury, his muscles tensed, ready to spring into action.
"Sable…" he whispered, his voice cracking as the word left his throat, but he barely heard it himself.
The tension in Raxian's body reached its breaking point. The sight of Lynx so close to Sable, his fingers grazing her skin, sent a fresh wave of fury coursing through him. His heart pounded, his breath came in short bursts, and all reason began to slip away. He could barely see anything beyond the small gap in the door, but what he saw was enough to fuel the storm raging inside him.
Through the crack in the door, he saw Lynx holding Sable's chin, forcing her to look up at him, his sharp nails digging into her skin, his lips twisted into a dark, victorious smile. Sable's body was slumped, weak from whatever she had endured, but there was still a fire in her eyes—faint, but there. Even in this state, she was still fighting. The thought tore at Raxian's chest.
Lynx's voice, too low for Raxian to hear, slithered through the small room, his gaze locked onto Sable's, as if he was savoring every moment of her vulnerability. Raxian could see the sick satisfaction written on his face, the casual cruelty in the way he was toying with her, and it made him feel like he was about to explode. His fingers twitched toward the door handle, his body trembling with the urge to tear Lynx apart.
Lynx leaned closer, his lips curling as he whispered something in Sable's ear. Her eyes flickered, a small gasp escaping her lips, and in that moment, Raxian's entire world collapsed into a single point of rage.
He couldn't hold back anymore. There was no strategy, no plan—there was only the overwhelming need to stop Lynx from touching her ever again.
Raxian shoved the door open with such force it slammed against the wall, startling Lynx, whose gaze snapped up to meet Raxian's in the doorway.
For a split second, the room was frozen, the air crackling with the tension of what was about to unfold. Raxian stood there, his chest heaving, eyes wild, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
"Get your hands off her," Raxian growled, his voice low and filled with barely restrained fury.
Lynx's smirk widened, his hand still resting under Sable's chin as if daring Raxian to make a move. "Well, well... Look who decided to join us."
Raxian didn't reply. He couldn't. All he could see was Lynx, so smug, so sure of himself, inches away from the person Raxian had sworn to protect. Sable, her pale hair tangled and falling over her face, was staring at him now, her eyes wide and filled with something he couldn't quite place. Relief? Fear? Shame? It didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was here now, and Lynx was going to pay for everything.
Without another word, Raxian lunged.
The distance between them disappeared in an instant, and Raxian's fist collided with Lynx's jaw in a bone-crunching blow. The force of the hit sent Lynx staggering back, his smirk faltering as he wiped a thin line of blood from the corner of his mouth. But the shock only lasted for a moment. Lynx recovered quickly, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.
"You think you can save her?" Lynx sneered, spitting out blood, his voice dripping with mockery. "You've already failed, Raxian. You let her get here in the first place."
Raxian's vision blurred with red as Lynx's words hit their mark, feeding the guilt that had been eating away at him for hours. But that guilt only fueled his anger. He charged again, fists flying, the room filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh as Raxian unleashed all his fury on Lynx. The punches came hard and fast, each one driven by the fear and rage that had been building inside him since Sable's disappearance.
Lynx fought back, his movements quick and calculated, but Raxian was relentless, his mind clouded by a single thought: I will not fail her again.
Behind them, Sable struggled against her restraints, her voice hoarse as she called out to Raxian. "Rax... stop! You don't have to—"
But her words barely reached him. He couldn't stop. Not yet. Not until Lynx was on the ground, broken and beaten, knowing that he would never get near Sable again.
Lynx managed to block one of Raxian's punches, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him back with surprising strength. They collided with a table, sending papers and supplies flying, but Raxian barely registered the chaos around him. All he could see was Lynx—the one who had taken Sable, the one who had hurt her, the one who thought he could play with them like they were pieces in some twisted game.
"You're weak, Raxian," Lynx hissed, his voice low and venomous. "Always have been. You think this makes you strong? You're pathetic."
Raxian's grip tightened, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt. His voice was little more than a growl as he spat, "You don't know anything about me."
With a sudden burst of strength, Raxian slammed Lynx against the wall, his forearm pressing against Lynx's throat, pinning him there. The room was spinning around them, but all Raxian could focus on was the look of defiance in Lynx's eyes. He was still smiling, still mocking, as if Raxian's rage was nothing more than a joke to him.
"Go ahead," Lynx rasped, his voice strained but still filled with that insufferable arrogance. "Hit me. See if it changes anything."
Raxian's fist hovered in the air, trembling with the force of his anger. He wanted to hit him. He wanted to tear him apart. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sable—her eyes wide, pleading silently. Her voice, soft and broken, cut through the haze of his fury.
"Rax... please."
That single word, her voice, was enough to bring him back from the edge. His fist slowly lowered, the anger still simmering beneath the surface but no longer in control. He took a step back, his chest heaving, releasing Lynx from his grip.
Lynx coughed, rubbing his throat as he shot Raxian a cold, calculated look. "Smart choice," he muttered, but his victory was short-lived.
Raxian barely payed attention to Lynx as his entire focus shifted to Sable. The sight of her had pulled him back from the edge, but his anger still boiled beneath the surface, threatening to explode again.
"Sable…" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
He took a step toward her, but before he could reach her, the sound of the side door creaking open cut through the tension. Raze, who had circled around the building, slipped in through the side entrance. Without wasting a second, he pounced on Lynx, grabbing him by the arm and twisting it behind his back with a sharp, practised movement. Lynx let out a low grunt of pain, his body crumpling as Raze pinned him to the floor with one knee.
"Stay down," Raze growled, his voice low and filled with barely controlled fury. His weight shifted, keeping Lynx immobilized, but his gaze flickered to Raxian for a brief moment, giving him a silent nod. "I've got him. Go."
Raxian didn't need to be told twice. He rushed over to Sable, dropping to his knees in front of her, his hands trembling as he reached out to gently lift her chin. Her face was pale, her eyes half-closed, and for a moment, his heart stopped, fearing the worst.
"Sable… it's me," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm here. You're safe now."
She stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly regained consciousness. Her breath hitched, and for a brief, terrifying moment, she didn't seem to recognize him. But then, her gaze focused, her eyes locking onto his, and a soft, weak smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Rax…" she breathed, her voice barely audible.
He couldn't help the wave of relief that crashed over him, but it was bittersweet. She was here, but she had been through so much. His eyes trailed over her, taking in every small detail—the way her hoodie hung loosely on her frame, the faint bruises on her wrists from the ropes, the streaks of grime that smeared her face. Her once-bright blue streaks of hair seemed dull under the flickering light, her usual fire and defiance dimmed by exhaustion and fear.
"I'm getting you out of here," Raxian promised, his voice resolute.
With shaking hands, he began to work on the ropes binding her wrists, his fingers fumbling with the knots. His chest tightened as he noticed the red marks left behind, the silent testament to her struggle. The anger that had subsided moments before flared again, but he forced it down. Now wasn't the time for rage—now was the time to save her.
As the ropes finally loosened, Sable's body slumped forward, and Raxian caught her, his arms wrapping around her to steady her. She leaned into him, her breaths shallow, but she was alive. That was all that mattered right now.
"I thought… I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Raxian's throat tightened, and he gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender despite the storm raging inside him. "You're not getting rid of me that easily," he whispered, his voice barely holding steady.
Behind them, Raze tightened his grip on Lynx, who was still pinned to the floor, his face twisted in anger and frustration. Lynx's eyes darted toward Sable, a cold, calculated glint in his gaze, but he knew he had lost. For now.
Raxian ignored him, focusing solely on Sable. He gently helped her to her feet, wrapping her arm around his shoulders for support. "Let's get out of here," he said softly, guiding her toward the door. The tension in his body eased just slightly as he felt her leaning against him, her warmth a reminder that she was still here—still alive.
But even as they moved toward safety, the anger simmered just beneath the surface, waiting for its chance to erupt again. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.