Page 29

LARS

After Silia told me to leave her room, I paced aimlessly outside her door for hours.

I replayed the expression on her face when she’d seen me, over and over in my mind. The look of betrayal will haunt my dreams until my existence gives out. Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to go back into her room, take her in my arms, and hold her tight. A selfish part of me wanted to erase her memories of my horrible deeds.

But our story would not end like theirs.

When I’d first taken the journal from her, I had read everything, front to back. I’d learned of our bond and what the Fates had written into stone about us. We existed only to find each other, but even without this bond, my soul would still search the entire realm for hers. I love her. I love her so fucking much, I would kill every living creature in this palace just to have her grace me with her beautiful smile just one more time.

I know I can’t, though. Erebus has yet another life to dangle over me. As much as I would love to fantasize, I cannot risk her life over a frivolous killing spree. Erebus has made it abundantly clear that if I so much as breathe in a way he doesn’t like, Silia would be killed. But Erebus must need her for something. Otherwise, why would we all be here?

After pacing the hallway outside her room until my legs almost gave out, I made sure her door was locked and headed to my room in the opposite wing of the palace.

The shadows of my unlit chambers reflected the deepest parts of me that knew I was nothing but a failure. They laughed at the prospect that I could have anything genuine in my life. I was made to lie; I was born to play a fool. If I were afforded such a chance, I would try for my entire life to make it up to Silia.

Sleep did not find me that night.

The following day, I came back to Silia’s door with a breakfast tray in hand. She needed to eat, and imagining her withering away at her own hand sent me into a spiral of anxiety. I knocked and knocked for almost thirty minutes. I even tried the handle to her door, only to find it still locked.

Good, at least she is safe. If she was determined to ignore me, I took solace in the fact no one else would see her either.

I left the breakfast tray outside of her room and made the disappointed trek back to mine. The darkness greeted me the same as it had last night, despite it being the late hours of the morning. I did not draw my curtains, did not light the fireplace or any of the candelabras, because I deserved to be in the pitch black. I deserved to drown in the shadows, wishing they would swallow me whole and take with them all the wrong I have done in my life. I would not afford myself the luxury of light when the brightest thing I had in my life was on the other side of the palace cursing my name.

“Liar,” she had called me. “You are nothing to me, just a body that kept my bed warm. Our time spent together was nothing more than a fleeting few weeks of lust.”

I welcome the tormenting words. But I hope and pray she does not mean them, although I’m deserving of it. Every ounce of hate, I had earned. I had done nothing but lie to the woman I loved. I’d even altered the fucking memory of her finding the journal in the library, and again when she had confronted me about it in the woods.

“Fucking idiot!” I curse myself and throw punch after punch at one of the walls in my room. The shadows laugh even louder, echoing the thoughts running rampant through my mind.

Liar.

You are nothing to me.

Liar.

Your father would be ashamed of who you’ve become.

Liar!

Crack after crack sounds as my hand flies repeatedly through the wall. Blood drips down the shredded wooden trim and straight to the floor. My chest heaves up and down as I take a step back and observe what I’d done. The blood paints a haunting picture of my darkest secrets. The jagged, sharp edges depict my pathetic attempts at trying to build a genuine relationship. The splattered dots, each representing a lie I have told to the one person who was undeserving of them. The droplets that fall to the floor depict the senseless tears I have caused Silia.

I lower my head, shame sinking its claws deep into me.

I decide to leave the blood there, a reminder that no matter what, I am nothing but a rage-filled fool.

I retreat to the bathroom, where I finally light a candle, only to glare at myself in the mirror. My reflection is ghastly, my hair tangled in all the wrong places around the base of my neck, the dark circles under my eyes just as black as the void in my heart. I let the facade drop and change my hair back to its inky black state. Erebus already knows my intentions in being here. There is no need to conceal myself as who I used to be. What remains, staring back at me in the mirror, is a hollow husk of a man. A man who’s fucked up every single precious thing he ever had.

Why should my existence freely move about the earth when it only brings others pain?

I have to get her out of here. I need to see her safely away from this cursed place. I would welcome any harm to me, if it meant Silia could escape and hopefully flee to the other side of the realm, even if it was without me. As long as she was safe.

I pull myself from my self-pity and wash my cracked knuckles in the sink, hissing at the unpleasant sting of the hot water. After a few agonizing moments of scrubbing, I snatch my hands from the faucet and wipe them on my shirt, not caring in the slightest if the blood stains. Good, another reminder.

A knock sounds at my door, and my heart jumps for just a second, allowing me the false hope that it could be her. I rush to the door and fling it open to find that vile goblin standing expectedly on the other side.

“What, Tarron?” I ask, sobering from the daydream of Silia standing in his place.

“His Majesty requests your assistance with the decorations for the ball tomorrow.” A villainous grin slithers onto his face. He knows I cannot say no. As long as Silia is here, her life is in Erebus’ hands. He’s waiting for me to slip up, eagerly hoping to jump at any opportunity to kill her just to torture me.

“Fine. Move.” I offer no other words as I push past him and begin my walk to the ballroom.

The hustle and bustle of the palace feels out of place and uncommon for Daqet. Decorators run in all directions, hurriedly trying to hang new chandeliers and mirrors. I take a moment to watch the chaos unfolding in front of me. There are hundreds of mirrors lining the entire circumference of the ballroom. The irony is not lost on me that though this is a masquerade ball and your identity is hidden, there is nowhere to truly hide.

“Lars,” Erebus taps his cane on the ground. An image of my father doing the same thing seeps into the crevices of my mind, before quickly vanishing again. If I get my hands on him, the first thing I’ll do is shove that cane so far down his throat that it’ll pierce through the other side of him.

I blow out a sigh and prepare myself for another verbal lashing for something I inevitably have done to disappoint him. Erebus walks down the steps of the large stage in the center of the room with ease. He has no other use for that cane than to taunt Odious and me.

“Won’t you join me for a drink? Some father-son bonding time, perhaps?”

“You are not my father, Erebus.” It's taking everything in me not to conjure a wooden stake to drive straight through his heart.

Erebus chuckles loudly and claps me on the shoulder, guiding me to one of the few lounges that branch out from the ballroom. “My marriage to your mother says otherwise.”

We stride through the lounge, and the smell of old leather furniture and fire logs invades my senses. I crinkle my nose at the stale-smelling leather.

“Sit, sit.” Erebus waves a hand to the couch, and I do as he says. He finds two glasses at the bar top and fills them halfway with an amber liquid, then walks to the chair across from my couch.

He places the glasses on the coffee table between us and plops down in his chair. The leather crackles under his weight as he makes himself comfortable.

“I wanted to thank you for everything you have done for the great Kingdom of Daqet. Your hard work has not gone unnoticed.” He lifts his glass in the air in salute and takes a swig. I reach for my glass and swirl the liquid around, eyeing it closely. It shimmers in the firelight, and I find myself suddenly drawn to it.

“Drink, Lars.” Erebus’ gaze shifts, and I watch as flames dance behind his eyes. Reluctantly, I bring the glass to my lips and drain the contents. The dark liquid burns my throat as it glides down, but my expression does not waver. This, no doubt, is another one of his ridiculous tests to see if I obey him, but how drinking a glass of scotch earns his favor, I haven’t the faintest idea.

I slam the glass back on the table, the burning spirit giving me a sliver of newfound confidence. “I thought I was here to decorate.”

Erebus’ deep chuckle fills the room once again. “ Clearly , I have that covered.” He takes another sip from his glass, matching my pace and emptying it with ease.

“No, I wanted to speak with you. More specifically, about you and my niece.”

My throat constricts at the mention of her, and it’s getting harder to hide the sorrow behind my unwavering stare.

You are nothing to me.

Her echoing voice booms in my mind as if she were yelling directly into my ear.

“Leave her out of this. I already told you I would do what you wished. Just let her go, Erebus.” I straighten on the couch and run a shaky hand through my hair.

Fucking get it together. Breathe .

“Oh, but I need her more than I do you, boy. She is the key that twists the final lock free.”

Fool.

The mocking voices in my head that grow louder.

“Spit it out, Erebus!” I scream at him, slamming my fist on the table. I no longer care if I lose my temper. The withering string that was holding my patience together has just snapped its final fiber. If he wants to kill Silia, I dare him to fucking try.

The room feels like it’s spinning in twenty different directions. The taunting shadows from my room have followed me here, craving to envelop the entire room just to cause me pain. Erebus’ stoic expression never falters as he looks down at my fist, new blood seeping onto the dark wood from the cuts on my knuckle.

He flicks his gaze back to mine and raises a brow. “Tomorrow night, after the party, Silia and Diana will meet their mother once again.”

What the fuck is this lunatic talking about?

“You’re insane."

“And it’d be in your best interest to stay in line. Need I remind you what one snap of my fingers can do?” He rises from his chair, bringing his crystal glass back to the bar in the far corner, laughing along with the shadows. He fills his glass to the brim this time and saunters back over, victory dripping off his shoulders.

“You need her. You can’t kill her. Your empty threats no longer scare me, Erebus.” I clench my jaw so tight that my teeth feel on the verge of cracking. Every muscle in my body is now tense as adrenaline pumps heavily through my veins. The more Silia’s name leaves his lips, the more I want to snap his neck in two with the sole of my boot.

“You are correct, boy. But do I need her after my plans are fulfilled? I could torture her to the brink of death, only to heal her completely and do it all over again. I can do things your weak mind cannot even comprehend.” Never have I harbored so much anger, not until he became my stepfather.

The rage between us is enough to set the entire room ablaze.

That’s when I decide to do something I’d never dared before.

I reach out to his mind in the eather. But there is nothing—not a thought, not a feeling, not even a subconscious. What has he done?

Suddenly, all his threats don’t seem so empty. He must have done something unspeakable to void his mind of any activity and still walk around as a functioning Fae.

“If you lay a single finger on her—” I rise from the couch as Erebus cuts me off once again.

“Yes, you’ll burn the kingdom down. Now sit down and cool off. We don’t want to cause a ruckus and keep the decorators from their work.”

I’m shocked at his confident tone, his previous anger gone in a flash. But he’s still as eager and hungry for power as the same night he had killed my father in front of me.

“I’ve had enough of this. Finish setting up the ball yourself.” I stride for the door and swing it open. Without a glance back, I head straight for my mother’s wing of the palace. I need to settle down before I disembowel the first person that dares to speak to me.

Erebus is right. He can torture Silia.

I choose to distract myself by finding an outfit for Silia tomorrow. I have just the costume in mind. As I stride through the hallways, Erebus’ servants press their backs flush with the walls, creating a large path for me to pass through. Terror plasters their faces as I stare each one of them in the eyes. They know the secrets that haunt this place, and that makes them complicit.

But then again, aren’t I just as well?

I reach my mother’s dressing room in a few minutes and rummage through the rows of hanging dresses. Gods, she has an absurd amount of clothing. I cannot remember the last time my mother wore any of these dresses, not that she had any reason to. Erebus liked keeping the palace closed off to visitors after they’d married.

I shuffle through them until I find just what I’m looking for.

The long, silken black dress glides off the hanger and into my hands. The coolness from the fabric sobers my rage a touch, and I allow myself to envision Silia wearing it. A smile reaches my lips as I picture her gliding through the ballroom entrance in the tight-fitted gown.

I tuck the thought away as I move to the drawers filled with masks and dig around for the two I am searching for. At the very bottom, they lie next to each other, a thin layer of dust coating them from disuse. I glare at them in agony, the symbol of the God who cursed me staring right back at me. I pull them from their resting places without another look and tuck them under my arm.

We will look like a fitting pair of fools at this ball.

I make quick work of picking the lock to Silia’s room and quietly crack open the door, peering in to see if she’s there. A breath of relief escapes my lips as my gaze finds her.

In any other circumstance, if we met organically, I would be tucked in next to her, stroking her hair as she drifted soundlessly to sleep. We’d be joking about anything and everything, tangling our bodies together every night until dawn, just like we had in Eza. But that is not our reality, and I fear I will never get to experience those moments with her again.

I snake through the entrance and gently close the door behind me, standing in place for a moment, watching her like a coward from across the room. I take a few breaths before I stalk towards her wardrobe and carefully hang up the dress, then lay her mask just below it on the old wooden base of the closet. I slowly shut the door and dare one more look at my sleeping flame.

Against her wishes, I lightly stride to the side of the bed and look down upon her. Her beautiful face is haunted with pain. Her brows furrow at a concerning angle, and she is covered in a thick layer of sweat. I cautiously wipe away the silver locks of hair sticking to her forehead and press a kiss to her temple. She grumbles in response, and I freeze in my tracks, afraid she’ll wake to find me looming over her sleeping body.

She finally settles back into a deep sleep, and the pain on her face overwhelms me. A tear falls from my eyes and lands on her pillow, right next to her face.

“I am so sorry, my love.” With a shaky breath, I confess everything I’ve ever wanted to say to her.

“You are the light of my life, my entire reason for existing. My Little Flame, I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me. This is all for you. Every wicked thing I do is for you .” I have to bite my hand to stop the horrendous sob that threatens to escape my throat.

“If I could go back, I would change everything. I would never let Erebus sway me into doing his bidding or manipulate the beautiful memories we shared. You are more important than anything in my life.” I muster up the courage to finish my speech, even though she cannot hear me.

“Little Flame, please do not lose hope. I may be branded a fool, but I hope you see nothing about my love for you is foolish.” I give her one last kiss, on her cheek this time, and the saltiness from her sweat coats my lips. The taste only deepens my admiration for her—even in her dreams, she fights her demons. I wish so badly to pluck away every dark thought that circles her mind.

I slip a ring off my finger and push it onto one of hers, careful not to wake her. The small pinky ring fits perfectly on her ring finger, an heirloom from my father. It’s been passed down for generations, and one of the only things Erebus let me keep. I want Silia to have it, to remember me by. No matter what the outcome is here, I want her to know I would give every piece of myself to her if she asked. Even if she didn’t ask, I would freely offer myself to her on a silver platter.

Before I depart, I send a wave of love and joy to her, affording her a brief respite from the dreams that torment her.

I could have just simply conjured the dress to appear in her wardrobe like I had with the soap and bed, but I selfishly needed to see her. However, looking at her now only brings me more agony. My Little Flame, so close and within reach, and yet I could not reach out to her to make her understand that my heart bleeds dry for her. I would have to be satisfied with confessing my truth to her in her unconscious state, hoping I’d get the opportunity one day to say it to her in the light of day.

I leave the room as quietly as I had entered and begin to think of ways to get her far away from here forever.