Chapter 31

Weston

I’m locked inside my own flesh, fully conscious and helpless, watching through an invisible barrier as a malignant force puppeteers my body—commandeering my voice, my strength, my very breath. It feels like I’m trapped in a crystal cell, every nerve screaming, every instinct suffocating. And the cruelest sting? I know exactly who I’m hurting: Alex.

Her face, once the sanctuary of my soul, now taunts me through that glass. I remember the softness of her gaze, the scent of moonlight and wildflowers drifting from her hair, the way her laughter trembled on her lips when she tried to hide it. I remember holding her, mapping each fragile curve of her body, listening to every fervent promise she breathed against my chest. Those memories live inside me like beacons—but the sorcery that binds me twists each one into poison. Love warps into doubt; longing curls into revulsion; tenderness ignites into rage. The woman my heart reveres becomes a phantom hell-bent on my