Chapter 129 The Price

• The room closed in on Xavier, the air thick with a suffocating weight. Shadows clung to the corners, twisting and warping in a dance of mocking whispers, echoing his deepest failures and fears. The journal lay on the table before him, its presence a cold reminder of the sins that had brought him to this point. His fingers hovered over the worn leather, but he could not bear to open it. The vision of the altar—the blood, the hollow, accusing eyes of his mother—replayed in his mind like a tormenting nightmare. He had been born of violence, of rejection, forged in the darkness of his father’s cruel design. And Henry… his mate, his salvation, now stood as nothing more than a pawn in that same twisted game of shadows.
• "You don’t get to say that, Xavier," Diego snapped, his voice raw, full of unspent anger. "You didn’t choose this. You didn’t choose him." His frustration rippled through the space, but beneath the edge of it, Xavier heard something else—something softer, more understanding. "But you can choose now. You can choose to fight this—to fight him."
• Xavier’s chest tightened, his heart feeling like a stone pressed down on his ribcage. Diego’s words hit him like a tidal wave, overwhelming and powerful, yet hopelessly out of reach. He wanted to speak, to tell Diego how impossible it was to fight the darkness consuming him. How every step he took felt like it was dragging him further into the abyss. But the words wouldn’t come. The guilt sat like a boulder in his throat, choking him. His gaze dropped to the journal, then, slowly, unwillingly, shifted back to Diego.