Page 27

Annalise

I t makes sense now, why I didn’t want to return. Now that I understand who I am, I understand the severity of everything I have done with fervor. I have helped the enemy of my king. Not only by leading him into Cyrus’s kingdom, but by gathering his enemy, training with them, and offering him a closer look at what he was up against. I have lain in his bed night after night, allowing him to take my body as his own. And what’s worse, now all of the jeers Elias spoke to me in those moments make sense. Especially since I let him touch me after he caused the death of my child. A child I never had the pleasure of knowing existed until it was a puddle of blood beneath my feet.

My body is broken beyond repair, not only physically but mentally. I am torn between who I was, who I became, and who I am. All while cowering before Cyrus as the severity of what I have done continues to assault me in the first place. I know there’s some part of me that should feel relief that Cyrus has me now. But I remember clearly why Elias was able to get ahold of me in the first place—because Cyrus banished me and separated me from Ciel as punishment for trying to protect a human.

I remember clearly what happened to me that night, the light scar on my forehead the only physical remnant of Cyrus’s wrath.

Unfortunately, Cyrus’s wrath didn’t end there, and it makes my flesh crawl to think of how devastating his wrath has become because of my capture. Now, the depth of Cyrus’s destructive rampage weighs on me as I recall how many innocents lived in Elias’s kingdom. At one point, I lived among them, completely unaware of the future that awaited all of us. I think back to the day in the clearing when Cyrus showed me what being a beast meant. The pure darkness of death of the creature he becomes will forever stain my mind as a place of horror. I can’t imagine seeing that for the last time before the cold promise of death surpasses you. And yet, as he showed me when he professed his feelings, I am suddenly immune.

So much time has passed between Cyrus and me, navigating our sides of the world without one another. Both of us have changed drastically. That much is clear. But as I am now, I am unsure if those changes are for better or worse.

I release a shaky breath, my eyes focusing on Ciel, who is fast asleep. His lips are parted as drool seeps from the corner of his mouth, his white strands wild from tossing and turning in his sleep. I gently push his hair away from his face, enjoying the warmth that is my son. I note that his internal temperature has begun to rise, much hotter than a human. But he is not human. He is half beast, and he has already begun to exhibit that.

There’s so much that I’ve missed because of both Cyrus and Elias. Ciel has grown a few more teeth since I’ve been away. He’s also gotten slightly bigger and is able to walk with more strength, his speech slowly changing from babbling to the sporadic use of words. He’s grown, and I missed it just as Cyrus intended when he banished me.

I slowly stand, wiping my eyes as I do. Each time I look at his face, the weight of what was lost threatens to consume me. But it also helps me remain grounded, a physical reminder of what I need now more than anything.

Revenge.

Cyrus kept a lot from me in my broken state. It’s clear now why, but it also makes me confident that Cyrus kept the truth of Elias’s fate from me, hoping to keep my mind off another issue that could hinder me from regaining my memories. But I have yet to speak to Cyrus about it. I can barely stand the sight of him. And with our return to the palace and Ciel finally falling asleep, I can no longer avoid him and everything his presence entails.

I can only cling to my resentment and hope it carries me through whatever being in his company this night will bring.

I slowly stand, my eyes remaining on Ciel’s sleeping form as I find the strength to leave him again. Joan was right; it sickens me, the thoughts I had about Ciel. I’ve never acted so distant from him, and I know he picked up on that. I know because he’s never looked at me as hesitantly as he did in our last days together. Even today, he was hesitant to jump into my arms.

I release a shaky breath, making my way out of his room. As much as I want to stay, I can only keep this facade for so long. Each second feels like agony as I try to remain strong for those around me. But as I make my way into the hallway, following the servants to the chambers Cyrus and I are to share, my stomach knots in discomfort.

I feel bitterness as I open the doors to the chambers we share. Memories of Cyrus’s excitement about sharing this with me bombard me, making me angry at his lie.

“You have my heart.”

Yet he exiled me, putting all of this in motion. Once I enter the room, I quickly close the doors behind me, collapsing as my last bit of strength leaves me. My breathing comes in quick pants as I try to blink back my tears, stifling the pain welling up within me.

“Anna?” I tense when Cyrus’s voice is accompanied by his gentle touch, pulling away from him. In my turmoil, I didn’t even realize he was in the room. And as much as my body knows not to ignore him, it’s all I can do to keep my breathing steady. I can’t look at him. Every mistake I made constantly barrages me when I look into his eyes. And just looking at his face makes me think of the child we lost.

I choke on a sob, keeping my eyes down.

“Are you—”

“Don’t… touch me,” I snap, slapping his hand away.

Cyrus’s eyes shift over my being, making me want to shudder due to its lack of humanity, but I don’t. I know speaking to him this way is a mistake. It’s provoking his naturally dominant side. But I don’t care.

I shift my attention to my surroundings, a bitter chuckle escaping me as my anger fuels me. I’m caught between resentment and fear, both sides of me refusing to settle on one over the other.

“I don’t want your pity,” I murmur.

Cyrus releases a scoff, kneeling next to me.

“It is not pity. It is—”

“Love?” I finish, looking at him. My heart jumps as I take in his expression, his face once again putting me in the mind of the child we lost. I hastily look away, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“The same love that exiled me, regardless of my status as Ciel’s mother? Did you not say to me that I had your heart? That I was yours? And you… took him from me and caused all of this,” I say.

My breathing is shaky as I glare at Cyrus, my hatred manifesting.

“This is all your fault... all of it,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. If Cyrus feels anything, he doesn’t show it. I don’t know what he’s thinking as he watches me.

“You are right, this is all my fault. And I can’t do anything about it now. I am just trying not to fuck things further than I already have,” Cyrus says.

“Further?” I whisper, turning to face him.

“You cannot fuck anything further than this. You have cost me a life… a child. Do you think you could ever come back from this? Do you think pitying me because of your arrogance can wash the blood from your hands you fucking monster?” I say, my voice growing stronger.

Cyrus’s eyes darken as he speaks.

“Careful, Annalise—”

“Or what? Will you beat me? Torture me, perhaps?” I release a bitter chuckle. “Look at me, Your Majesty. Both of you have destroyed the one thing you coveted, your greed has destroyed everything that I am—Ah!”

I cry out as Cyrus moves, his body a blur as he grips my arm. His face is inches from mine, his gaze narrowed as he searches my face, warring with himself. His breathing is shaky as he studies me, his grip stifling.

“Are you so naive that you do not think I am mourning, too?” he says after a moment.

“Do you think I do not know that all of this is because of me? That I am the cause of our child’s death? I am the reason for your suffering? Do you think your screams in the bath as you recalled every tragic thing that happened to you did not phase me? That I do not see the scars that litter your body? That I did not want to mourn when you returned to me, your belly flat, with no recollection of anything to mourn?” he asks.

I try to pull my hand from his grasp, but he is too strong, his grip unwavering.

“From the moment I learned of Ciel’s existence, everything that I did was to protect him. If I could go back and prevent this pain that I caused, I would.”

“Well, you can’t! You… can’t,” I whisper.

Cyrus and I stare at each other, at a loss for words. Both of us feel so much anger and despair, yet neither knows how to channel it properly. Cyrus finally releases my arm, and I cradle it gently as I avoid his gaze once again.

It didn’t occur to me that Cyrus would be hurt by the loss. Elias’s words to me every night clung to the inside of my mind, reminding me of how angry Cyrus would be once he learned of the loss, and what I did after—how I let Elias have my body, each time his words telling me exactly how angry Cyrus would be to see me.

“Where is he? Truly?” I ask.

Cyrus’s eyes widen slightly. He knows I’m referring to Elias.

“I know you lied to me. Where is he?” I whisper.

“Now isn’t the time to—”

“Stop! Just stop already! What do you have left to protect me from? You have caused every piece of pain and strife in my life, Cyrus. Is my suffering still not enough for you? Must you drag it along further just to spite me and ensure I remain fearful of what has yet to come? Unable to defend myself even further?” I shout.

I choke on a sob as I glare at Cyrus, my inner thoughts and emotions colliding.

“I don’t want your pity. I want my fucking revenge.”