Chapter 35 #2
I had a feeling that this would be the cause of Sebastian's inevitable breakdown. Delivering the news of death would do that to a person, I imagined.
My feet were cemented to the floor in distress. I wanted to go after him, but needed a moment to process what the fuck just happened.
“So much for a welcome home party,” Kohen quipped under his breath. He reached a hand down to Sawyer, helping him to his feet.
I looked at Pia, her eyes wide as she glanced around all of us. “Wait.” She pointed to the door where Sebastian just left from, then looked at me. “You two finally had sex?”
I couldn't tell if she was trying to distract everyone from the news we’d just received, or if she was really just shocked.
I shrugged innocently. Now was not the time to delve into the details of my sex life.
Sawyer bumped into my shoulder, shoving me aside as he left the room.
Kohen went after him, leaving Pia and I alone. She came over to me, pulling me into a hug.
“He's wrong,” she said. “It's not your fault that Jocelyn died.”
“It kind of is,” I replied.
“Draemor would have attacked to try and claim the land, anyways.”
“Yeah. But word of my gift helped speed up the process.” There was no convincing me otherwise.
Pia moved her arms to my shoulders. “Sawyer’s angry at the world right now. And sometimes when you're angry, you take it out on the people you care about. Because you know that you can. You know that they’ll still be there.”
I nodded in acknowledgement. Though maybe I should have been, I wasn't mad at Sawyer. His heart ached so badly that he didn't know what to do with it.
“Now, go deal with Seb.” She grinned faintly, even though her eyes were still wet over the death of our friend.
I could hear her sobbing as soon as I left.
When I tried my luck with Sebastian's door, I found that he’d left it unlocked, so I let myself in. The noise of running water came from his washroom. His mattress concaved where I sat, waiting for him to come out.
Sebastian had a tough outer shell, but he harbored so much pain inside. When he finally allowed some of the pain to break free, it was harsh and sharp like the blade of a knife.
The sound of water trickled away. Sebastian stepped out of the washroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He jumped back when he saw me sitting on his bed. “Gods, you scared me.”
My eyes stuck to him as he walked to his wardrobe, pulling some loungewear from it. I turned my head, giving him some pointless privacy as he dropped his towel.
He rustled his hair, drying it slightly before sitting next to me on the bed. “What are you doing here?” His voice was sharp, as if he didn't want me there.
“You need someone to talk to.” He would argue with me, but I didn't care.
“No I don't, Maeve,” he scoffed.
I glared at him until he gave in with a roll of his neck. “That went pretty horribly, yeah. But it would have gone that way no matter what. There's no good way to announce someone's death.”
“That I agree with, but still—”
“Sawyer will get over it and move on to someone else like he does every few months,” he sneered, his words announcing his anger.
I took his hand in mine. “I'm not defending Sawyer by any means, but why did you wait to say anything? I mean, we were with each other for hours and you didn't say a word.” How did he do what he did to me, with all that weight on his mind?
His silence told me that if I wanted him to open I was going to have to work at it a little. He needed to vent, and though I wasn't one to shy away from a challenge, I didn't want to push him.
“Alright, if you don't want to talk it's fine, I understand.” Maybe he just needed some alone time. I stood up and started towards the door, but his grave words stopped me.
“I was five when I saw my mother’s head severed clean from her body.”
My head shot up and I pivoted back to face him.
“I was six when my father made me watch while he murdered the parents of the one who killed her.”
I took my place beside him again.
“I was seven when I first executed a person.” His knuckles gripped the sheets. “I was eight when I killed someone younger than me.”
I had no words. Absolutely none.
“Nine when I almost died for the first time. Ten when I was locked in the dungeons for refusing to torture someone whom I believed was innocent. So on and so forth until the present age of twenty-six.”
His gaze turned heavy on me. Teary. Heartbroken.
“So I just wanted a few hours of normalcy before everything in my life went to shit yet again. And I had to see you first. I had to explain why I left and—” He looked down at his hands, twirling his thumbs around each other. “I just needed to see you.”
I stole his fidgeting palms, collapsing my much smaller ones around them.
“I just feel like—” He stopped himself and he threw his back down onto the mattress.
“Feel like what?” I asked, following him down.
He sighed, turning his head towards me. “I pray that you never have to feel the way I do.
That you never know what it's like to live a lifestyle such as mine.
It's become all too natural to me. The fighting. Killing. Burying.” He looked dead into my eyes.
“Don't get me wrong, I'd do it all day everyday if it meant keeping you and the kingdom safe. But…” He hesitated to continue, but I laid my hand over his, letting him know that it was okay.
“The past few months have made me so numb to it all.
None of it fazes me anymore. Stabbing a dagger through someone's chest…
watching them cry as they plead for their life, begging for their mother.
Stealing the last breath from their lungs—it doesn't affect me like it used to.”
My insides clenched at the darkness of his confession, reminding me of the things he's done. They didn't scare me, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't try hard not to think about them.
“I’ve spent my life fighting that part of me—the part that was born into battle, forced to do horrific things as a child. Then I rejected the crown and was thrown back into it even harder. Soon there will be no other choice but to accept that's just who I am.”
I sat up and rested my hands on my knees, looking straight ahead out the window as I tried to think of something to say. “Someday this will all be over and you'll be able to live again.” I told him the thing I’d been reminding myself of daily since the summer.
His lips curved up. “You told me that about yourself months ago.”
“It's true. Someday you'll spend your days in the archives. Always needing to wear your glasses because you’ll be working as a bookkeeper—the career you truly belong in.”
He chuckled, pulling me down and into his chest. “Someday you'll be tanning naked on a beach, soaking in the waves as the sun sets around you every evening,” he told me my own fantasy.
I smiled at the thought. I needed this reminder, too.
Someday I’d live again.
“Someday we’ll live again,” we said together.
Sebastian pressed his lips to my forehead. They were soft against my skin—comforting. “Do you want to stay the night?”
I did, but needed to be alone. So much had already happened since he'd been back, and the overwhelm of it all was closing in on me. Plus he needed a chance to actually rest.
I shook my head. “That's okay. You need to sleep, and if I stay I doubt you’ll get very much.”
Sebastian frowned. “I told you earlier that I doubted I'd get much, anyways.”
“No. It's okay, really. I think I'll just go back to my room and—” My throat constricted and I choked on my words as brutal realization struck me. Why did I think that Sebastian coming home would just suddenly solve all my problems?
Jocelyn was really dead, and Sawyer blamed me.
The kingdom was on the brink of a war that was being expedited because of me.
Sebastian had become indifferent to killing, which was arguably my fault, too.
Just hours ago, I had sex with the man I was in love with, but couldn't bring myself to tell him.
I was being hunted by Draemornians for gemstones and powers that I never even wanted, and I had a prophecy hanging over my head that suggested my death.
It was too fucking much.
My breath pulled forcefully into my lungs, quaking under the pressure of my life.
“Goodnight,” I said, my voice already unsteady. My eyes started to burn. I could hardly breathe.
Sebastian studied me as I tried my hardest to hide the distress I felt. “Are you—?”
“I'll see you in the morning.” I didn't give him a chance to coerce me into staying. I’d thought for sure he’d be the one who broke down tonight—turned out it was me.