Chapter Eighteen #4
“You don’t have to cry to be sad, Onyx,” I said, my eyes stinging with a fresh round.
A deep ache gathered at the top of my stomach, but the pain didn’t feel like it belonged to me.
As I hugged him, I could’ve sworn I felt his soul crying out.
That little boy who’d had his mother taken from him, only to then lose his father in a brutal and bloody war that followed.
No wonder he feared our fated bond. If our love ended in tragedy like he believed, it would just be another person he lost. Another blade shoved between his ribs.
Onyx rested his head on mine and seemed as though he was about to return my embrace before quickly pulling away. He stood from the couch and put more distance between us.
“I didn’t tell you the story to gain your sympathy,” he said, emotionless once again.
I hated it. “You wished to know how the war began, and I told you. King Paris killed my mother and her guards the moment she arrived for the meeting, claiming her death was needed for the sake of peace. A life for a life, with her guards simply being necessary casualties.”
“That’s awful,” I whispered.
“It was a farce, of course,” he continued.
“King Paris wished for war and knew her death would be the spark to ignite it. And he was right. My father marched on Bremloc and slaughtered every human he came across. The war spanned several years, taking countless lives on both sides. Once I reached my sixteenth year, I asked to fight alongside him.”
My heart broke a little more. “Koga said you used to skip sparring lessons to read.”
“Yes, well. That was before the humans killed my mother. Her death awoke an anger deep inside me. One that hasn’t fully died.”
It explained his hatred of the royal family. Also gave me another person to add to the list of assholes in my family tree. Paris. Eidolon. Cedric. All had done horrible things.
“So you became a warrior at sixteen?”
“Indeed.” Onyx placed his hand on the mantel and stared down at the burning logs.
“And I excelled as years passed, instilling fear into the hearts of men. However, my anger paled in comparison to my father’s.
He cared not how ruthless he became as the war drew on.
I feel the rage helped quiet his grief. Then, that woman appeared. ”
Chills danced down my spine. “Woman?”
“They called her the Hallowed Saint,” Onyx said, brow tapering.
“She wielded a power so great that she was able to shatter the barrier around the Shadow Realm and force our army to its knees. The most shocking of all was seeing how easily she subdued my father. I’ll never forget the way her hands sparked as she dug her fingers into his chest and ripped out his mana. Like blue fire.”
Briar had shared what he knew of the former demon lord’s defeat, but it was different hearing it directly from someone who’d witnessed it firsthand.
“She killed him?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“No.” Onyx clenched his jaw. “She took away his power and made him mortal. Vulnerable to human weapons. King Paris then removed his head clean off his shoulders.”
With my thoughts racing, I dropped my gaze to my hands. How would Onyx react when he learned I wielded that same power? Signs of my purification abilities had already shown themselves at the royal ball when my coffee diluted the king’s poison, but my powers hadn’t fully awakened yet.
Would I have that same blue fire in my fingertips?
“What happened after that?” I asked, returning my attention to him. A flicker of surprise rippled in my chest when seeing his gaze was already on me. Pinned, really. Maybe I was paranoid, but he seemed suspicious. Like he knew I was hiding something.
“After my father was defeated in battle?” Onyx averted his eyes to the wall behind me and tipped his head back, exposing more of his sharp jawline and pale throat.
“Refusing to admit my own defeat, I sent a ball of fire toward the woman. It should’ve melted the flesh from her bones, but she dispelled it with a simple flick of her wrist. I hurled another at her, then another.
When all of my spells were merely batted away, I charged at her with my sword.
My magic couldn’t hurt her, so I wanted to see if my blade would.
Koga is the one who convinced me to stop fighting. We had lost the war.”
Onyx lifted a hand to the mark on his chest, almost absentmindedly. I watched his fingers glide over the tattoo flames.
“How did you get that?” I asked before I could talk myself out of it. “Last night, you said it was a mark of your shame.”
My question went unanswered. Onyx pushed from the mantel and went over to pour himself a goblet of wine.
“Do you have wine in every room of this castle?” I asked.
That made him chuckle under his breath. “Only in the rooms I frequent. Here and my quarters being the main ones.”
“Cool.” I rubbed my lips together, then made a popping sound. “So. About that mark.”
“Evan.” Onyx exhaled, shoulders slouching. “Forget the mark for now.”
I let it drop. Pushing him on the matter would only piss him off.
A hard knock came at the door, startling me so much I probably looked like one of those jumpy cats.
“Pardon the intrusion, milord.” Seraphina stepped into the study and bowed her head. “But we’ve detected movement outside the barrier.”
“The mercenaries of Nocturne?” Onyx asked.
She shook her head. “They appear to be spies from the Secret Order. Two of them.”
“Draven and Reign?” I asked, both excited and nervous. The latter because I didn’t know what brought them to our neck of the woods. Probably nothing good.
Onyx glanced at me before returning his attention to her. “Bring them to me.”