Page 55 of Goldrage (The Chrysophilist Trilogy #3)

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

JULIAN

T he lion stares down at me with eyes that never blink. Dead glass orbs set in a preserved snarl, frozen mid-roar for eternity. Lucian’s favorite trophy, he used to say. The apex predator. The king of beasts mounted above his desk like a god surveying his domain.

I used to think it was about power. Now I see it differently.

It’s about the kill.

My grip tightens around the gun. Below me, Roby whimpers. But it’s only white noise against the roar in my skull.

Predators and prey. That’s all this life has ever been.

Lucian taught me that lesson with his fists. Beat it into my bones. You’re either the hunter or the hunted. The lion or the gazelle. There’s no middle ground.

My mother understood it too. She learned to hunt in her own way. Poison instead of bullets. Manipulation instead of force. She became a secret assassin to avoid getting eaten.

And me? I never knew what I was.

I think I’ve always been the prey; that’s why I could never lead like Adrian.

The lion’s mouth hangs open, teeth bared. I can almost hear its roar, feel the hot breath of death on my neck. But it’s not the lion I see anymore. The features morph until Lucian’s face stares back. Those same dead eyes that watched me bleed. That same cruel mouth that told me I was nothing.

Family was supposed to be my tether. The only truth I could rely on. My brother—the one person who saw me for more than just my failures. My mother—damaged but mine. Even Aurelia—she was supposed to be family. My light in all this inky dark.

I widen my stance and try to ground myself in this moment where everyone is staring at me, holding their breaths, wondering what Julian might do next.

What mess will he make this time?

How might he fail again ?

Makes sense; he was never a Harrow.

My pretend father beat me for never living up to his expectations, and my real father stood by and watched it happen.

Who betrayed me more—the man who beat me or the man who let it happen?

The lion’s eyes bore into mine. Lucian’s eyes. Judging. Always judging.

You were never meant to be loved.

My mother knew. She played me like a violin, using my desperate need for connection against me. Fed me lies about Aurelia to twist the knife deeper. And I let her. God, I let her because I needed to believe someone gave a damn about me.

Adrian knew. Of course he knew. But he took too long to try to stop it.

Even Aurelia…

My chest constricts. She’s the love of my pathetic life, yet she only ever loved Adrian.

I was just the consolation prize when she thought he didn’t care about her.

The backup when she couldn’t have the one she really wanted.

Those moments we shared—when I thought she saw me, really saw me—were just echoes of what she felt for him.

I can’t even be mad about it. I can’t be mad or resentful of anyone.

I was a bastard child who was never meant to be loved.

I wasn’t supposed to exist. A mistake between two people seeking comfort in hell. An accident that everyone has been trying to manage ever since.

The room blurs at the edges. Everything except that fucking lion head. It grins at me now, Lucian’s face fully formed in it. Mocking.

“You wanted to be me so badly, boy. Look what you’ve become.”

What I’ve become?

What have I become?

I’m floating, watching myself from somewhere near the ceiling.

The skeleton tattoos on my arms are decayed yet alive in the lamplight—death eating its own tail.

The butterfly on my collarbone feels like it’s choking me.

Even the Latin phrase on my ribs burns: “Where you are Gaia, there I am Gaius.” A promise of devotion I made to a woman who never truly wanted me.

What am I?

The threats. The violence. The paranoia.

I locked Aurelia in a room like Lucian used to lock my mother away. I’ve turned my brotherhood with Adrian into a venomous thing, just like Lucian tainted everything he touched. I’ve beaten and killed and intimidated.

I’ve become the monster I spent my childhood fearing.

That’s who you are.

I became Lucian’s son by my own choice. By action. By every cruel decision I’ve made since taking power.

The lion keeps smiling. Lucian keeps grinning.

“You wanted power, boy? You wanted to matter? Look at you now.”

The gun is heavy in my hand. When did I even draw it?

Roby makes another sound. Another fearful groan.

He never asked for any of this. His only crime was being brought into this world against his will. Just like me.

I was just like Roby once. Just a boy with dreams and hope.

Now I’m a monster.

Not because of the lies and betrayals of others, but my own decisions. Every time I chose violence over vulnerability. Every time I picked control over connection. Every time I let the darkness win because it was easier than fighting for the light.

Something breaks in my soul. A support beam cracks under too much weight. Everything I’ve built, everything I’ve become—it’s all founded on lies. But worse than the lies is the truth: I chose this. Step by step, decision by decision, I chose to become this .

I slam back into the moment, back into my body. I shove Roby hard, sending him sprawling across the rug. He scrambles away toward Lorenzo, eyes wide with terror, but I’ve already forgotten about him because he’s safe now.

Safe from me.

I need to keep everyone safe from me.

The gun barrel finds my temple like it was always meant to be there.

Cold metal against hot skin.

The lion watches. Lucian watches. He knew—Lucian knew—this is how it would always end for me. So he tried to beat strength into me: the strength to endure this world.

But he failed.

Time slows to honey, thick and golden and suffocating.

Through the amber haze, I watch Aurelia’s expression shift—confusion to understanding to horror in the space between heartbeats.

Her weapon clatters to the floor, forgotten.

She moves toward me like she’s underwater, every motion stretched and distorted.

Her eyes are wide. Frantic. Green with those flecks of gold that still make my heart flip.

I love you.

I have always loved you.

Adrian’s mouth is moving but no sound reaches me. Just this buzzing. This endless buzzing in my ears. A high-pitched ringing that makes my teeth ache.

My brother. Still my brother, even if we don’t share blood. Even if he knew the truth and never told me. Even if he was always the favorite, the legitimate one, the one who actually deserved everything.

I look through the haze and smile at him.

I love you, brother.

Always have. Always will.

For the first time in my entire life, I’m peaceful. Real peace. Not the temporary quiet that comes from violence or control or drowning myself in whiskey or a woman’s body. This is different. This is…

Final.

And what a fucking relief.

I look at Aurelia again. She’s so close now I can see the tears gathering in her eyes. Can count each freckle across her nose. Can remember exactly how she tasted that first time, when we were just kids playing at being adults.

Before everything went to shit. Before the lies.

Before I became this person I hate.

“I’m a reaper,” I whisper. The words come out quiet. Broken. Too soft for her to hear.

But I imagine us back when we were teenagers, before the world broke us into sharp pieces. Before I learned that love was just another word for death.

She would have given me that goofy grin, the one that made her whole face light up. The one she reserved just for me back when I was her best friend. She would’ve rolled her eyes and said, “And I’m the killer of reapers. But if you die, I die too, remember?”

But she won’t die without me.

She’ll finally get to live.

My finger tightens on the trigger.

“Maybe this way, I can save you.”