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CHAPTER 60 Kai

I’m swallowed by a wave of bodies.

People pour from the throne room, all pushing their way down the hall. I shove against the human current, my movements sluggish beneath the weight of so many powers.

The court parades toward the gardens to enjoy refreshments and swap gossip while the second ceremony on Loot commences. Most Elites here despise the idea of the royals setting foot in the slums, let alone conducting another wedding there.

Another wedding. Because I couldn’t stop the first.

I lean against a wall in the emptying throne room. Petals float from the canopy of flowers above to fall gracefully toward the dais beneath. That is where they stood, exchanging vows, while I was foolish enough to think I could stop it.

I was too late.

She is a wife. She is a queen.

I sink to the floor, letting my back slide down the smooth wall. What would I have done? Stolen my brother’s bride away? I was so plagued by the decision between duty and desire that I became stuck somewhere in the middle as a begrudging bystander.

And now I’ve lost her.

I was too late.

Her life will pass by mine, and yet, we will never stop to live within each other’s. She is a tragedy I will be forced to relive every waking moment. I am her Enforcer, and she, my queen. Anything more is now in our past, and anything less is likely to come.

I mourn her on the floor of the throne room.

I am lost without the purpose she planted in me. For her, I was better. I was a mere shadow of the beast my father made me. Now, I fear what I will become when bowing at her feet. I would have kneeled for her a hundred times over, not for duty but devotion.

She has become my mission once again, this time a queen I’m meant to protect. But it is my brother who will have her. In his life, in his heart, in his bed.

My fist meets the wall beside me.

A shock of pain shoots up my arm as the smooth surface crumbles beneath my knuckles. I curse under my breath, then again, loud enough to offer some relief to my sudden rage. White dust drifts to the marble floor when I pull my aching hand from the wall. Chunks of debris fall from the fist-sized hole I’ve made. It seems that my anger may have latched on to a nearby Brawny without my permission.

I am dangerous this way. Lethal when stripped so bare. Devastation lives just beneath my skin, and I am aching to unleash it.

She is gone. I have lost her. I am lost without her.

My head hangs in hands that will soon forget the shape of her.

Beasts don’t get the beauty.