Chapter Fourteen
CASSIA
I DON’T LEAVE my bed. Days pass. I rot.
I can’t bring myself to go outside and face the people of Wrath. I can’t face the disappointment and disgust I’m sure they feel for me now, and I’m horrified at the thought of them finding out that I’ve been chained within Wrath’s and Lust’s borders.
Earning their trust has been an uphill battle. They believe too many things have been handed to me, that I’ve had too easy of a life and don’t deserve the power and responsibility that comes with leading Wrath.
It’s humiliating to discover that Aziel agrees with them. The countless hours, days, months, and years I’ve poured into proving myself have been for nothing.
David and Valeria stop by occasionally with food, but they’re smart enough to be in and out. They don’t stay, and they sure don’t try to strike up conversation. I do occasionally hear them whispering to themselves, the bastards bickering about whether or not to approach me.
They want me to get out of bed. I’m an immovable boulder.
Every morning, I attempt to teleport beyond the Wrath border, and every morning, I fail. Whatever magic Silas infused into the damned bracelet is strong, and there’s no way around it. It must alert Silas, too, as he appears shortly after each attempt.
I hate him.
—————
I yank my covers over my head, hiding from the sunlight. I could shut my blinds, but that would involve getting out of bed and I don’t have the mental capacity for such movement. I don’t have the mental capacity for much of anything, and there’s no point pretending I do.
Aziel has made it painfully clear he doesn’t see me ever ruling Wrath, so I don’t see the point in trying. No amount of effort will earn me my birthright, not unless I take the kingdom with force. I could attempt a coup, but that’s too far—even for me.
I would have to hurt Aziel, maybe even kill him, and I have no interest in that.
I hate him, but that’s not the emotion I feel deep down. I love him, and it’s infuriating.
I shouldn’t love Aziel, not after he’s denied me the only thing I’ve ever wanted.
I have no idea who I am if not the future leader of Wrath.
I may be the heir, but that doesn’t mean anything.
If Mom chooses to have more children, specifically ones fathered by Aziel, I could lose everything.
They may not be the firstborn, but nothing is stopping Aziel from giving them his title instead.
He could cast me aside, and there’s nothing I could do to stop it.
I roll onto my stomach, hating how pathetic I feel. They’ve taken everything from me, and I mentally picture ripping every member of my family apart as I sob into my pillow. I’m unable to stop the tears, even as the scents of Mom and Aziel infiltrates my bedroom.
Why are they here? I want to be left alone. I want to disappear into my sheets.
I turn, watching from the corner of my eye as Mom scans my vanity and grabs my hairbrush. I refuse to acknowledge her, even as she climbs into my bed and slides her hand down my spine.
“Sit up, Cassia,” she murmurs. “Your hair needs brushing. The mats are back.”
I hesitate, debating rejecting her help before pushing myself up into a sitting position. Mom makes herself comfortable at the head of my bed, then guides me to sit between her legs so she has easy access to the back of my head.
I ignore the quiet, frustrated tut she lets out when she sees how matted my hair has become. She explicitly instructed me to brush it daily when she came here earlier this week. I didn’t listen.
“I’m forgot,” I lie.
Mom hums. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you fixed up.”
I can only imagine the horrible things she’s thinking about me. Does she think I’m a failure, too? Does she secretly hate me for not being able to kill Mammon? I was doing it for her, too.
Aziel stands beside my open bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression unreadable. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking. I don’t care. My anger mounts when his face shifts into an unmistakable look of pity. I don’t want his fucking pity.
“What do you want?” I snap.
He’s not welcome here, and he knows that. I don’t care to speak to him—or even look at him.
A long beat of silence stretches before Aziel speaks. “You haven’t left your bed in almost three weeks. We’re worried about you.”
I extend my arm and jingle my bracelet. If he’s so worried, he can take my damned leash off. He’s chained me like a dog, and if he wants to see me happy, he can remove it.
Aziel blinks. He’s just as stubborn as Silas, if not more. Gray and Mom will be my best bet at reclaiming my freedom. They’re the soft ones, and they’re easy to win over.
I pick at my bedsheets, needing to do something with my hands.
Aziel shifts, leaning against the edge of my desk. I hate how he’s looking at me, and I refuse to acknowledge him as Mom brushes through my knots. I’ve always had unruly hair, the thick, wavy strands prone to tangles.
I needed help caring for it for most of my childhood. Mom, Gray, or Silas would brush it almost every evening. Aziel lost privileges after accidentally giving me a small bald spot when I was eleven. I’ve never forgiven him.
“Come to work tomorrow,” Aziel finally says.
I scoff, unable to hold back the noise. “I’d rather not.”
“I’m not asking.” Aziel cocks his head to the side. “You have a job to do. The work hasn’t vanished just because you left. People have stepped up to fulfill your tasks, but they can’t manage them indefinitely.”
“Then hire somebody to do them.”
“No.”
“Yes.” There’s a sharp bite to my voice that I don’t bother holding back. “You’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m never going to lead Wrath, and I’m not particularly keen to continue wasting my time.”
My voice cracks, but I don’t care. I don’t care about much of anything anymore. I’ve spent my entire life dreaming about leading Wrath, and Aziel swept the rug out from underneath me the first time I made an important decision without his explicit permission.
“That’s not what I meant, Cassia.” Aziel shifts, like he’s thinking about moving closer, before deciding against it and remaining at my desk.
“I just…” He pauses, groans, then continues.
“You’re competing with David, but you have to understand how wildly different the responsibilities are between leading Lust and leading Wrath. ”
Mom continues brushing my hair, working carefully through the mats. She’s gentle, and despite the thousands of negative emotions coursing through me, I find myself relaxing into her hands.
“I understand the responsibility of leading Wrath,” I argue. “And I’m not sure what more I can do to prove that.”
Aziel frowns, his lips tugging down at the corners and his eyebrows pulling together.
“You’ve more than proven your dedication, Cassia, but there’s no shame in needing more time to prepare.
I didn’t take over until I was almost two hundred, and you haven’t even reached your thirtieth year.
You should enjoy your youth. Take this time to explore yourself, to find passions and hobbies that don’t revolve around leading Wrath. ”
I have passions and hobbies. I may not be able to think of any examples, but I have them. I know I do.
Aziel drags his fingers through his hair. “I fully intend to give you Wrath, Cassia, and I shouldn’t have suggested otherwise. I know how hard you’ve worked for it, and you’ll be an excellent leader when the time comes. I was angry, and I spoke out of turn. I’m sorry.”
I slide my foot along my sheets, considering his words. “I didn’t murder Mammon,” I say. “Everybody thinks I’m a failure.”
“Not at all.” Aziel steps forward, finally closing the distance between us.
I avoid looking him in the eye as he drops to his knees beside my bed, bringing us to the same height.
“They’re impressed you were brave enough to sneak inside Greed and try.
If anything, they’re upset with me for forcing you to leave. ”
I snort. “Liar.”
I’m not a fool. I failed, and the Wraths will hold that against me. They’re forever going to think of me as a little girl who had to be rescued from Greed by her fathers.
Aziel takes my hands, his movements slow and cautious. He’s nervous I’ll lash out, which isn’t out of the realm of possibility. He’s always extra sensitive to my emotions when I’m close to Mom. He’s afraid I’ll accidentally hurt her, which I loathe.
I stare at his fingers, refusing to let myself cry as he folds his hands around mine. I haven’t held his hands since childhood, and it’s oddly comforting.
He gives my fingers a tight squeeze. “You’re being too hard on yourself. There’s a balance to things. Mammon will pay.”
Mom snags a knot, and I wince before pulling my hands back to myself. Aziel releases me, but I can tell he isn’t happy about it. I don’t care. He isn’t happy about anything I do, so what’s one more thing on the list?
“You’re coming to work tomorrow,” Aziel finally says. “I expect you there bright and early.”
I press my lips together, then give a jerky nod. It’s a bald-faced lie. I have no intention of leaving my bed, but I’m willing to say whatever it takes to get Aziel off my back. I’ll agree to anything if it means being left alone.
Aziel cocks a brow. “If you don’t come, I’ll be left with no choice but to bring work to you. We’ll hold meetings inside your bedroom, where everybody can see just how low their Crown Princess has fallen.”
I clamp my jaw shut. “You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t test me, Cassia.” Aziel rises, then gestures for Mom to join him.
She brushes out the last of my knots. Aziel and I glare daggers at one another. Would he truly do that to me? Are there no limits to the amount of humiliation he’s willing to force me to endure? Apparently not.
“There we go,” Mom says, working the brush from my scalp to the ends of my hair. It glides smoothly, but I’m sure it looks like a greasy mess. “I’d recommend giving it a good wash before work.”
I grunt, refusing to respond.