Chapter 33 Sidarphion #2
He sighs. “How are you still so naive, Claudia? When I’m free, you’ll see who I truly am. I will be a god bent to your will. You will have me however you want me.”
“I don’t want you at all.”
“But you want more of my taste.” His mouth is so close to hers.
When he exhales, she can smell the magic on his breath.
He turns her in his grasp, pressing her back to his front.
One arm is around her chest, while the other belts her waist. Against her ear, he murmurs, “My teeth marks are on your soul. My power is the sweetness on your tongue that makes your lover growl.”
Her chest tightens at the mention of him. “Cassius loves me. It has nothing to do with how you’ve stained me.”
“Cassius wants what I already own. You are mine.”
“No, I’m not. You’re a nightmare and you deserve to rot here. I will not free you.”
“You won’t keep your word?” Mockingly, he asks, “You don’t want to be a good girl for me?”
She scowls in disgust. “Don’t call me that. You don’t want me to be good. You want me to be like you.”
“You know there is no point to being good, right? There is no prize. There is no cosmic separation between saints and sinners. Death swallows you all the same. Which is fucking lucky for you with all that blood on your hands.” She whimpers, but he says, “No. Don’t cower.
Own what you’ve done. Revel in it.” He licks up the scar on her palm.
“Goodness itself is a moralistic, oppressive myth. It’s a surrender.
It conditions you to be content with less than you deserve.
There is no honor in denying yourself pleasure or suppressing your darkest urges.
Desire is the only noble pursuit. You can be good, or you can be one of the greats.
You cannot be both.” Gently, he slides his hands down her arms and laces his fingers with hers.
“I know I’m not good. But you know if you choose me, you don’t have to be good, either.
With me, you can be anything you want. You can live without shame or guilt or restraint.
You can be a star and a nightmare. You can be light and dark. ”
“Stop.” Her voice comes out weak and quiet. “I am good. I am not a killer.”
“Open your mind to see yourself the way I do. The world would call you evil for your ambition. For your sharp tongue. For your rage. For your desire. But I don’t see anything wrong with you, Claudia Jolicoeur.
When I see you with all your brilliance, all your fury, I see the beginnings of a god.
I could make you a god of anything you wanted.
You could transcend the mortal order of good and evil entirely.
All you have to do is trust in your own greatness. ”
Slowly, he positions himself before her and presses a cold kiss to her forehead, playing a gorgeous vision across her mind.
She sees herself, but better. Re-formed into something beautiful and powerful.
She watches herself dance through a world of dreams, dressed in shadow, against a backdrop of a yellow sky.
This is what she could be if she chose him.
She could be a god.
She could be perfect.
“God of Time and Mercy,” Sidarphion whispers into her ear. “Auridolace.”
Auridolace. It echoes in her mind, etching itself into her bones.
But it’s not an anagram, is it? Envisioning the word, she pulls Claudia out of the name, and she’s not left with Jolicoeur.
She’s left with Roe.
Not her father’s name—her mother’s.
She loves it. She hates herself for it, hates how much she wants it. How good godhood looks on her.
The vision fades, and she opens her eyes to meet Sidarphion’s. “You have until his death day. That’s how long you have until the bargain takes you instead. The choice is yours, Starling. You can be a god, or you can be another dead girl. You can rule the dark with me, or you can be buried in it.”
Claudia’s stomach bottoms out. A lump tightens in her throat. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what she wants, doesn’t know what’s good or wrong or evil or right.
She’s lost herself.
Claudia realizes now that they both hold each other’s fate in their hands. She’ll decide if he goes free. He’ll decide if she lives. They both have so much to gain and just as much to lose. And neither of them trusts the other to come through.
A tear slides down Claudia’s cheek. “Please don’t let me die.”
“Don’t make me kill you.”
She looks into his eyes for a long time. “You really mean it, don’t you? You’ll take my life.”
“That is the nature of a bargain with me.”
A strained, breathy laugh escapes her. “I was a fool to think you wanted to help. To save me,” she says, mocking herself.
“No,” he says through his sharp teeth. “I did save you, and now I want to reward you for everything you’ve done. This bargain is the last demand I will make of you, Starling. After that, you will be the one who takes a piece of my soul. You will be the god to whom I bow.”
Maybe he truly doesn’t want her to die. Maybe he cares, in his own twisted way.
But he doesn’t care enough to let her live. And she cares too much to set him free.
“Please,” he says like it’s the first time he’s ever said the word, like it’s a language he doesn’t quite understand. “Keep your word. Make the right decision. In a century from now, when you are a god yourself, seated beside me, you will know that it was worth it.”
Claudia wakes up vibrating with pain. On shaky legs, she leaves the chapel, torn between killing and dying. Between love and power. Between grief and godhood.
She could ascend. She could be Auridolace.
But she would be alone.
No—worse. Worse than alone. She would be with Sidarphion.
What’s the answer here? She was going to talk to Triche and find a way to force Cassius into ascension trials in order to escape his deadly fate. But if Cassius is protected by the gods to the point where she can’t kill him, it will guarantee that she doesn’t survive.
Can she sign her own life away? Can she let herself be killed?
There’s no right answer. No solution. One of them has to die.
All she can think to do is search for some way to break the bargain, because if it comes down to it, if it’s him or her…
She simply doesn’t trust herself.
She’s killed before. What if she does it again?
No. No. Cassius will not die by her hand. Even if she loses her mind. Even if she has to bury herself alive to ensure she can’t get to him. Even if she must get herself expelled. If they were realms apart, there’s no way she could kill him.
But the thought strikes her then: Without Cygnus, where will she go? What would she do if she could never return here? There is no home waiting for her—only a blood-soaked room and likely an arrest. There’s nowhere else to run.
She crashes into her room and falls back on her bed.
It feels like the ceiling is coming down on her and the walls are closing in.
The room is drenched in darkness, and her body cries out in agony.
Some of her nails are split down the middle all the way to the cuticle from where she clawed at an immortal god.
Her lips are swollen from his kiss. Her stomach is full of his blood.
Blue and black bruises decorate her arms like tattoos.
What is she going to do? What the fuck can she do?
Turning onto her side to keep from being sick, she spots Odette’s diary beckoning her from the floor.
There are a few pages left. Claudia says a silent prayer that there will be something inside that can help.
November 25th
Last night, I became a wolf. It was the full moon, and I heard her voice. She’s never called to me like that before. The sky was a mirage filled with her light and heat. Marcherie was sleeping next to me. We had made love the hour before, but I couldn’t sleep.
I don’t know what happened with us. I used to always find peace when she was near, but now I wonder if peace still exists. Nothing stops my mind. I haunt myself.
I counted Marcherie’s slow, sweet breaths and wanted to make her stop. I wanted her breath to be mine. I needed it more. I don’t know. I don’t know. I was jealous of how easy it was for her to rest. Did she not know I was struggling right beside her? How could she sleep against my suffering?
I crawled out from our bed and pressed myself to the window, aching for the touch of moonlight. For the touch of anyone or anything else. Marcherie had her precious slumber to keep her company. She didn’t need me.
I opened the window quietly and walked onto the terrace.
My body trembled. An ache in my throat brought me to my knees.
The hair on my arms grew long and white.
My teeth were sharp as I ran my tongue over them.
I was starved for something I couldn’t name, and I wanted to scream. Back arched, I howled at the moon.
And the moon howled back.
Her sweet song filled me with extreme hunger. A growl rumbled in my stomach.
- Eat, my child, she said.
The light guided me back to my room. There, on the floor, the moon had left a gift for me.
Glorious, still hot with life, a deer lay before me.
I ran my claws over its tawny ribs, dreaming of gnawing the skin off them.
My mouth watered so heavily that my spit pooled on the neck of the animal as I leaned over it.
- Eat, the moon said to me again.
All I wanted was sleep. But I knew who would be waiting on the other side of that nightmare.
So I kept my eyes open, and I let hunger lead me.
I turned the deer’s face toward me. Its eyes were wide with death.
Hunger dripped from my teeth as I planned where to lay my bite.
The neck, long and meaty, was too tempting to deny.
Breath quickening, I leaned down and sank my teeth into the animal I thought was dead.
Then it started screaming. This only made me bite harder. I was a wolf! A wolf does not run from the prey in its mouth. A wolf devours.
The deer kept fighting, though, kicking at me with its strong legs. It twisted its neck out of my bite.
I blinked, and
I blinked, and
I blinked.
I blinked back to reality.
The window was closed. I was in our bed. There was no deer, but there was blood.
And there was Marcherie, cowering on the edge of the bed, a wound on her neck in the shape of my teeth.
- March, I said.
- You bit me!
She sobbed. I sobbed. My face felt cold. I touched it to find wet blood dripping down my chin. I didn’t just bite her, I realized. I tore out a piece of her flesh.
I am a monster. I have become the beast I fear the most.
- I’m so sorry, Marcherie.
I reached for her. She fell off the bed with how fast she tried to get away from me.
- Don’t touch me! Don’t ever touch me again!
She started for the door.
- I’m sorry, I said again.
- This is over. I never want to see you again.
Over
Never
Over never
Never over
Over
Over
I hear those words in her voice Over and Over. Over.
Just like her life, Odette’s diary ends in madness.
Claudia throws the diary into the wall across her room. She rages for hours, tearing through books, searching for solutions. Can she break the bargain? Can she kill Sidarphion instead?
No star, no poem, no ancient philosopher can help. She stares at herself in her vanity mirror. Her reflection fills her with disgust.
Bishop bumps against his enclosure. She pulls him out and lets him loop over her wrists. He slides up her arms and nuzzles into her neck.
If she’s gone, who’s going to take care of him?
Dread creeps in—is she going to die? Is she going to let herself be killed?
Being good is no longer an option; either she can be evil, or she can be dead.