Page 36

Chapter

Thirty-Six

A ZALEA

Nothing feels real, yet the searing ache in my heart serves as a constant reminder of its undeniable existence and it beats despite feeling like it’s broken beyond repair. My mind, however, remains shrouded in a disorienting numbness, as if it has willingly retreated to shield me from the weight of emotions. It is both a blessing and a curse, it’s a detachment that renders me irrevocably, undeniably numb.

But when I lay my eyes upon Kyson, a flicker of concern ignites within me. He drowns his sorrows in an endless torrent of alcohol, a desperate attempt to drown out his own pain. And still, he never strays far from my side. Through our bond, I can sense his anguish, intertwined with mine yet separate. It is a peculiar sensation, to feel his pain as my own and yet disassociate from it, acknowledging its existence while refusing to claim it as mine.

Yet, in this state of emotional detachment, I find myself indifferent to everything. I exist but do not truly live. The concept of living or dying holds no sway over me; they are mere notions devoid of meaning. I am adrift in a bubble of indifference, numb to the world around me and to my own existence. And yet, as the days stretch on, I realize that remaining anchored to this unfeeling place cannot be a permanent state.

As life continues its relentless march before my silent eyes, I am haunted by one question: is this all there is? Is this the extent of my existence, forever trapped within this barren emotional landscape?

Gradually, I lose sight of the man who is my mate, losing connection not only with him but also with myself. Perhaps it is because for so long I had no sense of self, and the prospect of our unborn child held the promise of an identity—a role I could embrace as a mother. That loss cuts deep, for with it, another fragment of an identity I long to keep slips away.

Questions gnaw at my every thought, rendering me paralyzed in their grip. Why did he feign friendship only to plunge the blade of betrayal into my back? How can he harbor such seething anger towards someone he claims to care for? Why did he strip away the one thing that was undeniably mine?

The weight of these unanswered questions threatens to suffocate me. They consume my every waking moment, leaving little room for anything else. Yet, as I return to awareness, uncertain whether I have slept or have been awake this entire time, the room comes into focus and I am faced with my sleeping mate beside me.

He stirs, instinctively drawn closer to me, his warm breath cascading over my neck as he buries his nose in my hair. Worry lingers within our bond even in his sleep, evidence of his desire to bring comfort. But I know that true comfort will elude me until I uncover the answers I seek. I want understanding, need it for closure, I need proof that I did not bring this upon myself. Though a part of me knows this truth, doubt continues to claw at my consciousness, insidiously whispering that perhaps I am to blame.

With a heavy heart, I summon the strength to remove myself from Kyson’s protective embrace, sliding out from under his arm that drapes heavily across my waist. Crossing the room in silence, I reach for his robe, craving the familiar comfort of his scent enveloping me. Clutching it tightly against my chest, I cast one last glance at his peaceful form before tiptoeing towards the door. Peering back at him, he remains asleep.

He might be mad, or maybe he won’t be, I’m not sure. So much has changed and yet remains the same. Though I have seen yet another side of Kyson, multiple in fact over the last few days.

One that he loves me fiercely not leaving me alone despite his own anguish, two that he has a really bad drinking problem. I never realized its true extent until I was locked in a room with him for so long, it makes me wonder if that is how he drinks all the time.

On a few occasions, he drinks himself to oblivion. And on days when he doesn’t, I can feel the tremor of his hands when he touches me. I feel his frustration as he fights the urge to find himself in the bottom of another bottle. One thing became apparent after the first week, the bottle always won in the end.

That is something we will have to address later, for now I need to move before I decide to crawl back in bed and wallow in my own misery, so I twist the handle and step out the doors to find Trey. He looks at me as if he is seeing a ghost when I slip out the door and close it gently. He appears hesitant when I move toward him before he grabs me, crushing me against his chest. His arms lock around me and I feel his nose in my hair, as he inhales my scent like he is hoping I am real and not a figment of his imagination. I sigh, and briefly hug him back glad that I haven’t been too much of a burden on my guard that they’ve turned and now hate me.

“Thank god,” he whispers before holding me at arm’s length.

“Where’s the King?”

He glances at the door behind me before clutching my face in his hands and leaning down to look at me, his eyes sparkle with sadness, endless hazel depths of worry stare back at me as he stares with worry.

“Sleeping,” I say, though my throat hurts from hardly using my voice and comes out raspy.

“I shall wake him for you,” he says, though I shake my head. Kyson needs sleep, I know how little he has been getting, I know how exhausted he is, I also know he will feel like shit after how much he drank last night before he succumbed to it.

“Let him sleep, but I have a favor to ask of you,” I tell Trey.

“Yes, whatever you need,” he answers swiftly, while standing straight again.

“I want to see Peter,” I admit. He opens his mouth no doubt to deny me but I hold my hand up silencing him.

“I need this please, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t, and I know Kyson won’t let me, and he believes he is doing it to protect me, but I need this,” I plead, hoping he won’t wake Kyson to tell him of my plans. Trey’s eyes turn black and he looks torn but my blood is his sire, my blood he is oathed to.

“Can you at least tell Kyson? I am not comfortable going against him, he would see this as a betrayal,” Trey pleads. If I do, he may lock me in the room, or just go kill Peter without questioning him.

“You won’t, will you?” Trey sighs and rubs his temples. “At the very least, let me wake Liam to come with us, just to be extra safe,” he says, and I agree, one can never be too careful.

We meet Liam in the kitchens, he is still in his pajamas, which sit low on his hips, his chest is bare and a tattoo of a beast clawing out of chest is tattooed on his skin.

He tugs a tank top on as he walks in making me wonder how close his room is to the kitchens. Shaking that thought away, he drops a hand on my shoulder.

“Lass, maybe you should let Kyson deal with Peter,” he says, and I shake my head. I need answers then Kyson can deal with him.

“Aren’t children off limits?” I wonder how it would be possible. Would Kyson break the very laws he swore to uphold?

“Not when it comes to treason, there is an exception to every rule,” Liam explains.

I’m not sure how I feel about that, I’m not sure if I feel anything at his words. Trey walks ahead into the pantry opening up the door inside that goes to the stairs under the castle.

A chill rushes through me as we descend the stairs, and I stay close to Trey and Liam, using them like shields and they happily oblige as we navigate the winding tunnels before stopping at the cells. It’s dark here with the dim lighting and two guards stand either side of the cell.

Trey snarls and Liam places his hand on my side as if he is ready to rip me from the place, yet my eyes are on the boy that sits huddled in the corner, looking like the weight of the world rests solely on his shoulders.

Peter, a boy I trusted and despite what he had done. Some part of me hangs on to the hope he will tell me it is all a joke and it wasn’t him, that he hadn’t taken my baby from me. He is a child himself; a child who took my own child from me. Seeing him so broken and scared only makes his young age that much more painfully obvious.

Peter looks up, and I move to the bars. His head snaps up to look at me and he hangs his head. His knees are pressed to his chest; he looks small and meek. Though looks can be deceiving, was all of it a lie? Everything? I liked Peter, I liked his energy, his carefree personality, his bubbliness but now I see a monster in a child’s body, yet monsters hurt too. That becomes abundantly clear when he looks up, tears in his eyes that etch down his face and drip off his chin.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean… I panicked,” he sobs, and I look at Liam who is glaring daggers at him.

“Panicked? You drove a knife into her, that isn’t panicking that is calculated,” Trey snarls, hitting the bars and making him jump. The guards, I notice, step away from Trey, backing away from him as his body shakes violently. I place my hand on his arm and he calms some, glancing down at me.

Turning to the guard, I ask for the keys. Liam quickly grabs my hand to stop me and Trey presses closer to me like he will toss me over his shoulder for even thinking of going near Peter. He is detained, shackled with chains around his neck, ankles, and wrists; he isn’t going anywhere.

“He can’t hurt me,” I tell them.

“He already has,” Liam replies. I look at him and press my lips in a line. Yes, he has more than he will ever know.

“I want the keys, I am not talking to him through the bars,” I tell Liam who looks at Trey. They hold some secret conversation, and Trey growls, but Liam lets my wrist go. But when the guard goes to hand the keys over Trey takes them.

“I’m coming in with you and you remain by my side and Liam by his,” Trey says. I don’t fight him on it, I know he won’t budge unless I order him and I don’t have the fight in me to debate it. I nod my head, and he unlocks the door. Liam walks in first and stands near the wall beside Peter who flinches at his closeness. Liam, however, just offers him a cold glare.

Trey refuses to step aside to let me in, and he grabs my arm when I try before pulling me to the opposite side of him; however, he doesn’t close the door, probably in case something happens so I can run out. I go to sit on the steel bed but apparently that is too close because Trey grabs my arm, steering me to the far wall. Liam leans over and tosses the pillow over from off the bed to him and he catches it dropping it at his feet.

“If you want to sit you can but not near him,” Trey says, and I sigh but sit on the pillow and lean against the wall. Though Trey remains standing, his leg brushing against my arm and I look up at him.

“Can you at least sit, it feels awkward with you standing,” I tell him, and he looks down at me before looking over at Liam.

“He moves, I will break his neck,” Liam says in more of a warning to Peter, but Trey sits beside me, though his entire body is tense.

Peter stares at the floor, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. For a few minutes, I can’t bring myself to speak. The air is thick with tension but eventually, I find my voice.

“Why?” I ask him, and his head lifts, his eyes snapping to mine.

“I didn’t mean to, I..” He moves his hands and Liam has him by his throat instantly and my shriek makes him pause.

“He can’t hurt me, he won’t, will you Peter?” I ask. Peter chokes and sputters, his eyes bulging but shakes his head as best he can, and Liam lets him go, he falls to the ground gasping.

Peter pushes further into the corner away from him but his eyes return to mine after a moment.

“It was you that poisoned the fruit?” I tell him and he chews his lip and nods his head.

“You bleached my room?”

He nods again,

“He also unbolted the stairs banister, that’s why he was cleaning them,” Liam growls, and Peter flinches, cowering away.

“How did you get past the guards to get in the room,” Trey asks him.

“I offered to clean the roof’s gutters, the window was cracked,” Peter answers and I press my lips in a line.

“Was it you that morning in the room? The window was open,” I tell him, and he hangs his head and nods.

Trey snarls at him, and Peter visibly makes himself smaller.

“I just wanted you to go back to Landeena, to leave the castle, I didn’t mean to kill your…” He looks at my stomach, and a tear rolls down his face, which he tries to hide as he glances away.

“Liam figured it out, and I knew they would remove me from the castle. I panicked and I went to take you hostage but then he lunged at me, so I stabbed you. I swear I didn’t mean it, command me please, ask anything. I will answer whatever you like. It wasn’t my intention to kill you but I freaked out.”

“If you didn’t intend to hurt her, why did you have a knife?” Liam asks.

“I always have it, it was my father’s,” Peter says.

“I thought you didn’t know your father,” I ask, and he shrugs.

“I’ve heard of him, apparently he wasn’t worth knowing.”

“So you know who he is?” I ask. Peter shakes his head.

“No, not even my grandparents know, just said he was a dead beat because he never came for me,” Peter answers.

“You don’t believe that?” I ask, curiously. I don’t know why I am asking him, I shouldn’t care, but for some reason I do.

“I don’t know, but then you came along and the King made her leave, I just wanted to scare you, make you leave so she could come back, it was the only time I got to see her,” Peter says.

“See who?” Trey asks, and Peter looks at the ground.

“She never comes to see me, she pretends I don’t exist,” Peter says, clearing his throat and wiping his face.

“At least here she has to speak to me, I would ask Clarice to let me help her, sometimes she would let me help her,” Peter says, wiping his face and rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

“Then you ruined it, you made her leave. I just wanted her to stay,” Peter says.

“Who are you talking about?” I ask. I haven’t made anyone leave that I am aware of.

“My mother,” Peter answers. Confusion washes over me, and by the looks on Liam and Trey’s face, they are just as confused.

“Grandpa said one day she would come around, that she would see me and come get me but she didn’t, so I got a job here to be near her,” he says.

Liam and Trey exchange wary looks. I am just as confused. .

“Peter, who is your mother?” I ask, trying to figure out who he is talking about.

“Ester, and you made her leave me again. I was going to make her see, see that I could be good, that I wasn’t like my father, that she could love me, and I wouldn’t leave her,” Peter says.

Ester is his mother? I am horrified by this news, but I am shocked more by the thunderous growl escapes from Trey. I jump at the sound, not expecting it.