Chapter Fifty-Two
Asher
R ay wore a dress some might—okay, they did—deem too casual for a wedding, the solid brown piece of cotton stretching from right below her collarbones to just above her knees. The sleeves were short, cutting off halfway down her bicep. Her sandals were equally plain, the leather entirely inoffensive in my opinion. I had done my rounds, saying hello to everyone I knew, and there had been far more scandalous clothing.
Yet, a male walked past me, his eyes catching on Ray before he scoffed audibly and mumbled, “Ridiculous dress.” In his head he criticized Ray, calling her frumpy and…ugly?
Rotating, I took my glass of red wine and flung my arm his way. The liquid flew out of my cup, soaking the stupid male—staining his pale shirt and light trousers.
“Now you look just as ugly as you actually are, you stupid idiot!” I shouted, raising my arms as if asking him what he was going to do. All he did was act the coward he was, shrinking back and dashing away to save his own life.
Ray had her mouth wide open, staring at me in shock and awe. “What? It is my wedding and I do not want horrid creatures here.”
A soft smile formed on her lips, and soon she was jumping into me and wrapping her arms around my waist. Stumbling back, I quickly grabbed her and steadied us.
“You are the most amazing queen,” she spoke into my shoulder. The hug lasted a few more seconds before I pulled away, swallowing the emotion that her comment brought forth—pride.
“Are you hurt?” came a melodic and whimsical voice. Lara approached, her small blue eyes squinting at Ray. She had chosen a vibrant purple dress that cascaded down her small body, fitting against it but never showing more skin than her arms and legs. Her long black hair had been left down to sway with each of her nearing steps.
“No, just happy, I promise,” Ray said back, turning just as Lara reached forward and grabbed her face. My jaw fell open as the two leaned into each other and kissed. A small yet intimate peck was shared, and then they separated, their hands connected still.
“Actually, I am not just here for Ray. I would like to speak with you in private, Queen Asher.” How odd, hearing her speak to me in such a way. She had once wanted me dead, to end the suffering she knew I felt after following Henry, Wrath, and I around. Now, she called me Queen and kissed pretty females and smiled.
“Of course, Lara.” Ray waved, walking towards Bellamy and thinking about work she had to get done. Lara and I headed towards the far end of the training yard where the crowd thinned, but I already knew what she would ask me. How had I not heard her and Ray’s loud thoughts before? How had I not noticed? “Just Asher, please.”
“I want my memories back, Asher,” Lara said without hesitation, looking at me head-on. “You gave them back to that prince. I know we are not friends, but I would like you to do it for me, too.”
A soft and patient smile dug just slightly into my cheeks, my eyes roaming over Lara’s face. Was that really what she wanted? I was not sure if she could handle having them back after everything she had been through. Looking at Sterling and I was the most obvious show of how dangerous such things were. We suffered immensely from it all still.
“Are you sure?” I asked warily.
“Ray has helped me, and she will be there to keep helping me. She is different from the rest of you. She is not miserable and angry and better off dead.” Okay, ouch. “It has nothing to do with being male or female or anything else. Ray is…kind. Her skin is soft and her hair never gets in my mouth during sex. Not once has she tried to take the noose down in my closet.” I made a mental note to take that down. “She has made sure our garden never dies, even after that one time I tried to kill it when I was angry. She is never cruel. And the sound of her voice reminds me of times when birds sang and I listened.”
While I could make very little sense of both Lara’s thoughts and words, I still felt her resolve—her surety. So, with a deep sigh and a racing heart, I nodded.
“They are not mine to keep. If you want your own memories back, then that is your choice. Would you like them now?”
“Yes,” was all she said.
So, I looked her way, willing it all back to her. It would have been easier if I had been touching her, but unlike Sterling, I thought Lara could use space during it. I gave her back the graphic memories of being assaulted at rapid speed, wishing above all else that she never had them to begin with. When I was done, Lara did not flinch, cry, or even speak. She merely turned and left, looking for Ray in the crowd.
“That was kind of you to do,” a voice said at my back.
Smiling, I turned to face Sterling. He wore a plain navy blue shirt with black buttons and trousers that matched, his blonde curls perfect and his pale cheeks rosy. In perfect sync with the start of a new song, Sterling held up a hand. Laughing, I took it, letting him pull me in and lead us to the dance floor. He picked an inconspicuous spot towards the edge and began to sway us in time with the beat as I spoke.
“They were hers, just as they were yours. Nothing kind about giving someone what belongs to them.”
“Still, you were thoughtful about it. You are better than you allow yourself to believe.”
“Will you still think I am kind if I tell you that I am afraid Stassi will hurt you?” I asked, staring up at him. His smile fell, eyes suddenly morose and half-lidded.
“It is not that different from Henry and Gen,” was all he said back. I opened my mouth to respond, but my mind thought about what he said.
Was it the same? Genevieve and Henry would also live very different lifespans, and perhaps there was a power imbalance in their age gap and abilities as well. But Genevieve, she seemed more equipped to handle it. To survive it. She was fierce. A queen in every way.
I could not say that to Sterling though. He did not deserve to feel weak or incapable. He survived. That was more than enough. More than most.
“I guess you are right,” I agreed, though I was still unsure if I was being honest. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am alive.”
“That is not the same thing,” I chastised, scrutinizing him. He tilted his head back, laughing sardonically even as we spun.
“Oh I know it.” In his mind, he thought of every time he had been sure he would die in the dungeons, and I realized that he was simply taking it one step at a time. Trying to survive, even now.
“I am here,” I murmured.
“Thank you,” he offered, leaning in to kiss my forehead before letting me go. The song was not over, but I saw through his eyes what had him passing me off. Who. Turning, I spotted him. Adbeel stood a foot away, looking at me with love and hope, his hands outstretched.
We came together, dancing slowly at first. It was a lovely moment of tranquility. Overall, the entire night had been perfect. So at odds with the world outside of Pike. We were in the midst of a war, yet we had found a pocket of peace in the heart of it all.
“Well, I suppose I owe you thanks as well,” Adbeel said as he twirled me. I giggled as I grew dizzy from the action, Adbeel’s large hands catching me before I could fall.
“For what?” I asked between laughter, reaching our hands high and forcing him to take a turn spinning. Such joy. Such perfect, perfect joy.
“For letting me be a real grandfather. Letting me care for you and teach you and protect you.” His eyes flicked from my eyes to my crown, resting on it fondly. His wife’s—my grandmother’s—crown. How strange it must have been to see it on someone’s head after all this time. “I love you, Asher. I know it is odd to say since we have known each other for such little time, but I truly do. You are the most extraordinary granddaughter I could have ever asked for.”
“Thank you. I am sorry Zaib never got to come back, but I am so grateful that you have welcomed me with open arms. And I love you, too.” Nothing could explain how lucky I felt to be loved—truly loved—by so many. But it was Adbeel’s love, that familial love I had been starved of, which I basked the brightest in.
Other than Bellamy’s. But that did not feel like simply love anymore. It was something more. Transcendental. Otherworldly. The universe itself contained within our shared souls.
“She would be proud. Maybe one day you will have a daughter and—” Adbeel stuttered into silence, his dark eyes wide. I gasped, not sure what was happening. An awful, foreboding gurgle came from his throat, and then blood shot out of his mouth, coating my face. Before my cry could even leave my mouth, my grandfather collapsed to the ground. And there, standing with what had to be Adbeel’s silent heart in his hand, was Malcolm.
My uncle stood with his own father’s heart, staring at the organ as if he were surprised by its presence there. Regret and terror flooded his mind, a tsunami of emotions that seemed to render him helpless. For it had been Mia’s order to kill Adbeel and then portal away. To get in and immediately get out. I could see it all there in his head. But Malcolm, who had only managed to get past the wards by truly convincing himself he would do no one harm, had discovered he did not want to be the villain of my story. Not in truth.
Too fucking late.
I stared at Malcolm and let out a piercing scream as I let my mental gates fall.