THE VOID BEAST

CHAPTER 6: THE BREAD

The cold breath lingered on my neck long after I spun around.

Nothing there. Just shadows. Just the flickering torch. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something had been standing right behind me. Watching. Waiting.

I pressed my back against the iron bars and stayed there until my heart stopped hammering.

Sleep didn't come.

---

Two days passed.

I knew because I counted the torch refills. A guard came once each morning to replace the flame. No food. No water. Just the scrape of his boots on stone and the click of the lock.

My throat was sandpaper. My stomach had stopped growling, it just ached now, a hollow pain that never went away.

Mira hadn't come. I knew why. Valerius had made his orders clear. No one was allowed near me.

I tried reaching for Darian again.

Darian?

Silence.

I know you're angry. I know I messed up. But please. Just tell me you're still here.

Nothing.

The absence was worse than before. It wasn't just quiet anymore—it was like a room that had been emptied of furniture. I could feel the shape of where he used to be, but he wasn't there.

Could he have gone to my body? I wondered. Swapped places? Gone to my world?

Or had he simply... left?

I pressed my palms against my eyes. The darkness behind my lids looked the same as the darkness in my head. Empty. Hollow.

What have I done?

I looked down at my body. The bruises from the library beatdown had faded from purple to sickly yellow. My ribs still ached when I breathed too deep. My jaw throbbed where the tall boy's fist had connected.

Two days. No food. No water. No Darian.

Just me and the rabbit.

She'd stayed in the corner, keeping her distance. I'd stopped trying to approach her. Every time I moved, she hopped back. So I stayed still and watched her from across the cell.

She'd leave sometimes—disappearing through the gaps in the iron gate. I didn't know where she went. Maybe to find food. Maybe just to get away from me.

I couldn't blame her.

---

The second night, I lay awake thinking about the cloaked woman.

Her words echoed in my head.

Your mother wasn't a maid. She was killed because she refused to surrender her beast.

I turned them over and over, trying to make sense of them.

Darian's mother had been a maid. That was the story. That was the reason everyone looked down on him—because his mother was lowborn, beastless, nothing.

But what if that was a lie?

What if she'd had a beast?

What if she'd been powerful?

And what if someone had killed her because of it?

I sat up, my heart pounding despite my exhaustion.

If that was true, then Darian wasn't just a bastard from a worthless bloodline. He was something else. Something they'd tried to hide.

My mother—his mother—wasn't a nobody.

She was someone.

And if she had a beast, then maybe...

Maybe I can become powerful after all.

The thought sent a spark through me. The first flicker of hope I'd felt since waking in this world.

But it faded just as quickly.

I didn't know who the cloaked woman was. I didn't know her name. I didn't even know what her face looked like beneath that hood.

"How am I supposed to find you?" I whispered into the darkness.

No answer. Just the flickering torch.

I lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

"Maybe it was a dream," I said aloud. "Maybe I imagined her. Maybe I'm so hungry and thirsty and exhausted that my mind is making things up."

But I knew it wasn't a dream.

No. It had been real.

Someone had come for me.

Someone knew the truth about Darian's mother.

And I had to find them.

"How?" I asked the empty cell. "How do I find someone I've never seen?"

The torch flickered.

I closed my eyes.

---

I was about to fall asleep when I heard it.

A soft scrape at the gate.

I looked up.

The rabbit was there. She'd squeezed through the bars again. But this time, she was carrying something in her mouth.

A small piece of bread.

She dropped it on the stone floor in front of her. Then she hopped back, keeping her distance.

I stared at the bread. It was small—maybe a third of a regular loaf—but it was food.

"You brought me food?"

Her ears twitched.

I moved slowly, reaching for the bread. She didn't retreat this time. She just watched.

The bread was slightly stale, slightly dirty. But it was food. I broke off a tiny piece and put it in my mouth. The taste flooded my senses—the first thing I'd eaten in two days.

I wanted to devour it all. But I looked at her instead.

She was shaking. Her ribs were still visible through her patchy fur. She looked even thinner than before.

"You're hungry too," I said. "Look at you. You need this more than I do."

I pushed the bread toward her. She looked at it, then at me. Then she used her front leg to push it back toward me.

"Seriously?"

She nudged it again. Closer to me.

I stared at her. This tiny, scrawny, shaking creature—the weakest beast ever recorded—had found food and brought it to me. Even when she was starving. Even when I'd jumped into a lake right in front of her.

She didn't bring it for herself. She brought it for me.

I remembered Darian's words in the library. Because she chose me. No one has ever chosen me before.

Maybe Darian had been right to protect her. Maybe she was worth protecting.

I smiled. The first time I'd smiled since waking in this body.

"Okay," I said. "Fine. We'll share."

I broke the bread into two pieces. One small, one smaller. I gave her the larger piece.

"Here. You need it more."

She looked at the bread. Then she looked at me. Then she ate.

We ate together in silence. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"I'll look after you," I said quietly. "On behalf of Darian. Until he comes back."

She didn't respond. But she didn't hop away either.

"Where do you think he went?" I asked her. "Do you know?"

She blinked.

"Probably not. You're a rabbit. You don't understand words."

She twitched her ears.

"Or maybe you do. I don't know. I don't know anything about this world."

I leaned my head back against the cold stone.

"I'm Alex, by the way. In case you didn't know. That's my real name. Not Darian. Alex. And I'm from a world where there are no beasts. No magic. No nobles. Just... regular people. Regular lives."

I laughed—a hollow sound.

"My life was boring. Lonely. My brother murdered me. My girlfriend betrayed me. I had nothing going for me. And now I'm here, in this body, in this world, and I still have nothing."

The rabbit hopped closer. Not all the way—but closer.

"Except you, I guess." I looked at her. "You're something. I don't know what. But you're something."

She blinked again.

"At least you brought me bread. That's more than anyone else has done for me in this world."

I reached out slowly. She didn't move away. I touched her head—gently, carefully. Her fur was soft beneath my fingers.

"Thanks," I said. "For the bread. And for not giving up on me."

She leaned into my hand.

For the first time in two days, I didn't feel completely alone.

---

The next morning, the door burst open.

I scrambled to my feet, wincing at the pain in my ribs. A guard stood in the doorway, his expression blank.

"Out. You're wanted."

He didn't help me up. I dragged myself to my feet, my legs weak from hunger, and followed him through the halls.

The sunlight hit me like a hammer when I stepped outside. I blinked, squinting against the brightness. Two days in the dark had made my eyes sensitive.

Valerius stood in the courtyard. His arms were crossed. His face was ice.

"Heard you destroyed some books," he said. "Thirty-seven titles. They sent me the list."

I froze. The trap in the library. The torn books. The teacher's accusation.

It had completely slipped my mind.

"How do you intend to pay for this?"

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

"Apex Spire taught you to read and write. That's finished now." Valerius's voice was flat. "You're of age. You need a beast-academy—one that will actually train that creature of yours, assuming it's trainable at all. Aurelian Spire is where every Vex child has gone for three generations. I won't have a son of mine—" He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. "I won't have my blood embarrassing this house by going anywhere lesser."

Aurelian Spire. I'd heard the name whispered among students—the real Academy, the one that mattered, the one Sebastian and Seraphina were already bound for.

"Tuition. Provisions. The thirty-seven books you destroyed on top of that. How do you intend to pay?"

I dropped to my knees.

"Please, Father."

Valerius raised an eyebrow.

"Please. I know I don't deserve your help. I know I've been nothing but a burden." My voice was shaking, but I forced the words out. "Aurelian Spire is a six-year program. Give me three years of provisions — tuition, food, whatever the standard covers. I'll spend the back three years working off the debt. All of it. The tuition you fronted, and the thirty-seven books."

Valerius stared at me.

Silence stretched.

"Three years," he repeated slowly. "And the other three, you belong to this house."

"Yes, Father."

"And if you fail before then? If you're expelled, or dead, or too pathetic to last a single term?"

I met his eyes. "Then I'll come back early and start paying it off regardless."

He studied me. I could see him thinking. Calculating.

Darian wouldn't have thought of this. Darian would have given up.

But Darian wasn't the one in control anymore.

Something shifted in Valerius's expression. A flicker of cold amusement. He wasn't agreeing because he believed in me. He was agreeing because he wanted to watch me fall.

"Fine." His voice was clipped. "Three years. Don't come crawling back before then asking for more."

"Thank you, Father. Thank you."

I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the ache in my knees. The rabbit hopped toward me, her ears perked.

Valerius turned and walked away without another word.

---

The carriage that took me to Aurelian Spire was shabby.

Compared to my siblings' carriage—which was lavish, packed with enough provisions for ten years, pulled by two fine horses—mine was a wooden box with one tired horse and a driver who looked half asleep.

I climbed inside. The seat was threadbare. The windows were cracked. But it was a way out.

I looked at the provisions they'd given me. Just enough to last two years, maybe less. Clothes that didn't fit properly. A bag of coins that wouldn't cover much.

It didn't matter.

I was leaving that house.

The rabbit climbed into the carriage and settled at my feet. She was still thin, still shaking, but she was with me.

"Hey," I said to her. "We're getting out of here. We're going to Aurelian Spire."

She twitched her ears.

"I don't know what's going to happen there. But it can't be worse than that house, right?"

She blinked.

"Right. You don't know. I don't know either."

I leaned my head against the cracked window and watched the house shrink in the distance.

"I'm sorry, Darian," I whispered. "I'm sorry I tried to leave you. I'm sorry I went into the water. I was scared. I was desperate. I didn't know what else to do."

No response. Just the rumble of the carriage wheels.

"I hope you're still there. I hope you're not gone. I hope you come back."

I closed my eyes.

"I'll wait for you. I'll look after your body. I'll look after your beast." I paused. "And I'll find out the truth about your mother. I promise."

The rabbit nudged my foot. I opened my eyes and looked at her.

"Yeah," I said. "I promise."

The carriage jolted forward. I looked out the window one last time. The house was gone now. Just fields. Just sky.

Goodbye, Darian's house. Goodbye, dungeon. Goodbye, the place where Darian tried to die.

The sun set.

We rode into the darkness.