Page 59 of Antiletum (The Nocturne #1)

It generally isn’t smart to punch solid stone

Val

T he floor is absolutely unforgiving.

Hard. Cold. Unyielding. Like Omnitas as a whole.

Like the Nocturne , put to rest against their will, but refusing to fully fade.

To smash it all to bits, just as I did with Roarke’s fucking head, would be a relief.

This sanctuary. The Citadel and the city it acts as a smokescreen overlord for.

Parliament and their chokehold on magic and money and people.

The Heartstones, waiting for me and my wife who I pulled into this mess without thought because I wanted her too badly to regard anything else but my end goal to have her.

Oh, if only I could destroy until there’s nothing but rubble and blood. Burn it all to the ground. Maybe I can bury myself under the ruin. Choke on the ashes until my lungs expire.

Grit digs into my palms and through my pants. On my hands and knees where Delaney discarded me while I begged her not to leave. Unable to move. Deluding myself, as I do so very well, that if I stay in my position to plead and bleed myself dry, that Delaney might come back.

She doesn’t .

Of course, she doesn’t. She likely never will. I’m my own executioner.

Delaney finally accepted the truth of who I am and she left anyway.

Pretty sure I may have lied to my wife, when I told her I could take it. Right now, as my chest cracks open and everything of substance is ripped out in a bloody mess by an uncaring, skeletal hand, I’m not certain that I can.

My breaths heave as if the action could expel all this heartache from my body.

Not giving in to my desire to sink into the ground, cease to exist, I push to a stand.

Scrub my hands over my face. Through my hair to push it out of my eyes.

Then, I turn to a wall, smash my fist into it, and scream.

Loud enough to rattle the rafters in the sanctuary.

Tear my throat open like I’m expelling glass.

Fire races up my arm, through my split knuckles, and I let out an angry growl, pulling away to find chipped stone and a smear of blood.

It generally isn’t smart to punch solid stone.

But inner nature aside—my owl form and the wisdom such creatures are known for—I’m remiss to admit that I’m not exactly famous for my sage decisions.

A statue of the Noctua barn owl stares at me from a corner, practically glowering at me with scorn and in a flash, I can see my father’s face across it.

Yes. I’m disappointed in me too.

Striding to it like it’s my ultimate foe, I shove it to the floor.

It’s an effort, but the current fury and anguish infecting my system has strengthened me momentarily.

I’m relieved, watching it smash and break off a wing, bringing about some of the physical destruction I crave.

Completely exhausted, I fold my legs out the paneless window, exiting this sacred, cursed sanctuary into a small courtyard, leaving my heart shredded inside, littering the floor.

Just the same as all those years ago, I call on my owl, shifting on the spot. Not knowing what the fuck else to do. Equally numb and gutted, too many horrible things existing within the case of my skin at once.

Clothes fall into a heap, abandoned in the grass as I fly away. The only difference between now and then is there’s no gold clasp to pull from the bundle with my talons, too precious to let it be lost.

What possessed me to place it back in Delaney’s hair, who can say?

She’s probably already ripped it out and flung it in the sewers, discarding another piece of me.

Of us and what I thought we were. Maybe I should have kept it.

Not given it back and held that miniscule piece of her that she willingly gave me for the rest of my days.

Subtle aches flare in my beating wing, the injury from hitting a wall muted, but not fully disappeared. At least it isn’t bad enough to not be able to shift again. Only the most dire injuries keep me stuck in my owl when I shift to avoid their consequences.

With the maze of streets below me, I resist the urge to follow Delaney. She doesn’t want me to.

She doesn’t want me .

She knows the truth, and it’s still not enough.

Mallin was wrong. Alaric was wrong. It never would have mattered at all if she’d been aware of who I was, even before we wed. Probably would have been better if I’d let myself stay dead in her heart. She’s moved on in a way that I never could. That I never will.

I waited too long.

I let her get away.

Bitterness owns my flight in the cool night. Resentment towards my father. Towards Suredeis and Parliament and the Nocturne .

I only ever wanted one single thing in my whole wretched life.

My sole motivation in fighting for a better world, in taking up the mantle of Lord, of leader of Suredeis after the death of my family, was so we might be together in a way we weren’t allowed before.

So others who might fall for a tragic love could have a happier ending.

People like me and Delaney. Mallin and Selise even.

It shouldn’t have taken so much convincing for them, two people who love each other and held the same social status, to be together.

The only signatures that should have mattered on their marriage certificate were their’s: the two people with no space for them to sign.

With The Citadel behind me, I deny the lure of following my wife, making for the border of Omnitas. I can’t stay here. Not right now.

Had my father been honest with me; had Rainah; had I been more pushy, demanding to be reunited with Delaney long before… It might have been different. Yes, I fought for her. But not hard enough.

Though I should, I can’t make myself regret slaughtering her parents, terrible people that they were. Another thing Rainah wasn’t fully honest about. Downplaying their cruelty for the sole purpose of keeping me away.

But then, when everything fell apart all at once, Alaric told me he had been hired for a hit on the woman I’d been biding my time for.

And finally, I went. Flew to her parents’ estate and saw her from afar.

Right after my father and brother willingly marched to their deaths for the sole purpose that I could ascend to a pedestal.

Be an incendiary that might spark the people if Parliament decided to end my life before my purpose in Suredeis was fulfilled.

What I found was a shell of who Delaney once was.

Such a perfect opportunity it was, burning that prison to the ground after Delaney left for a visit with Tabitha.

I torched the jailers right along with it.

The Thornridge estate may have been Delaney’s prison, but Omnitas is mine, its borders a rope tied around my neck.

The Citadel my gallows while I wait for the crate to be kicked from below my feet.

I fly all through the night over the patchwork landscape between Omnitas and Greystone, my heart beating as incessantly as my wings.

As if I could outrun myself and all of my actions leading us here.

What if I’d spared Rainah? Tabitha? Would my wife still hate me now?

Rather than let it all flood me, I focus on the sky, the puff of translucent clouds, and the fresh air in my feathers to keep from falling apart.

To let myself drop from such heights and smash on the ground.

Impulsive plans formulate while I fly.

Greystone Manor comes into view in the bright afternoon, its sprawling estate a dark blot of rolling lawns bordered by thick forest, everything in this form black and white and grey.

With soul-aching desolation, my gaze wanders towards the Strigi Forest. Where my wedding occurred.

Where the Heartstone thumps, waiting for the others to join it, to ease its weary burden.

I swear, I can hear the creak of the Ellden clock, unnaturally tracking the use of magic so Parliament may watch.

I touch down on the sill of Delaney’s tower, reminiscing on the days when I visited this window, not long ago. The leaded window is thrown open, as if left that way for me when we departed for Omnitas. Like Delaney would always be inviting me in. Always want me to come back.

But she wasn’t. She won’t.

Even the tower room itself is proof of that, Delaney hiding away from me from the very beginning.

Still, the way she lit up when she saw my owl perch upon this ledge. The quiet conversations she offered, pouring out her heart. Letting me know her in those first couple months when I kept my distance, at least as a man. I miss it. Deos, I fucking miss it.

Man once more, I shift in the middle of the room, my feet landing soundlessly on the carpeted floor.

It still smells of Delaney in here. Her subtle sweet scent, like lavender and patchouli. Earthy and clean. All the agony I was able to mostly ignore while I flew crashes into me at once. Breath lodges in my throat while I clutch a post on her bed, wood creaking beneath my grip.

Will she sleep in here again? When she flees from The Citadel to get away from me?

I’m sure she’s left by now, headed this way.

I stride across the room, the air too thin and insubstantial, sunlight streaming through the window to beat against my bare back.

Unable to fully relent, I rip open a drawer, finding pen and paper to scrawl out a hasty note.

I sign my initials: VvS. Not the name I first gave Delaney when I became hers.

The one I haven’t uttered in ten years before last night.

Not since I offered it to her when we were young.

A phantom I kept for myself, never sharing with my family, Mallin, Alaric, or Blair.

Sebastian.

Only my wife knows that piece of me.

I fold the letter in half and write Ocellus on its exterior.

The note tents on the table where we once ate together and she smiled like she might care. Like she might enjoy my company. But even that fell apart.