I didn't want promises.
I wanted revenge.
But revenge was currently difficult, given that my body had apparently decided to resign itself entirely from my service, leaving me lying helpless on a cold stone floor, bones fractured, muscles bruised, and my pride thoroughly trampled beneath Azael's crimson heels.
My mind raged against the silent cage that held me still, frustration a physical ache that pulsed through my veins. The stone pressed cold against my cheek, each shallow breath a painful reminder of the powerlessness I despised. I'd once thought myself strong capable even but now my body was a puppet, tangled in the threads of someone else's cruel design.
Yet even in this humiliating defeat, the embers of rebellion still smoldered fiercely deep inside me, waiting for the right moment to ignite. As long as I could still think, I could fight even if only in my mind, even if it meant clawing at this invisible barrier until my will alone shattered it into dust.
