56
“What is your problem?” I yelled as I crossed the tall threshold of the building where my brother now lived alone.
Soon after their union ceremony, Serie had embellished each room with bouquets and garlands of flowers, ensuring their wing of the compound was always filled with fragrance, color, and vitality.
But now, there was no bud to adorn the bare atrium or the intricate light-wood handrails of the stairs leading to the bedroom.
The gray marble floor felt even colder than the natural stone walls, which were decorated with glass lanterns that appeared unable to emit warmth or light ever since Araton’s mate had passed.
He abruptly turned toward me just before swinging open the beautifully carved arched doors leading to the other rooms.
“You chose him, Nauriel,” he bellowed in my face. “That day, instead of coming to me, instead of thinking about your people, you decided to stay with that filthy half-blood and risk your life.”
“His name is Amlach,” I hissed through gritted teeth.
Araton grabbed my arms and gave me a sharp shake, as if trying to clear the madness from me, his face twisted with both anguish and anger. “Do you have any idea how scared I was when I saw you fall?”
“Not enough, obviously, otherwise you would have jumped right in.” I yanked his hands off me with force.
“Instead, it was Amlach who saved me. You—” My voice cracked, and I turned my head away to wipe the tear that rolled down my cheek with an annoyed gesture.
Then I fixed my brother in my rancorous stare.
“You listened to your wounded pride. And you made me pay for my choice. And I did pay, Araton. The scars I’ll carry forever prove it.
So why do you keep punishing me with your hostility? ”
He invaded my personal space in a threatening manner. “Because I can’t stand the way you look at him. The way he looks at you.” Suffering flashed in his eyes. “It feels as if you are each other’s entire world.”
And that, I understood, reminded him of his bond with Serie and all the happiness he had lost. But what he was insinuating was . . . was absurd.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions under control. “Amlach and I have been through a lot together, Araton.”
“Spirits, Nauriel, it looks like you’re mates!” he yelled, suddenly stepping away from me. He reached out one arm toward the building’s entrance, pointing in the direction of the dungeons. “You can’t even keep away from him.”
I felt as if the walls were closing in on me, while the lantern flames seemed to whisper my name.
“You’re cruel, Brother,” I said, my voice trembling with a mix of pain and anger. “How can you use that word with me, knowing the Spirits haven’t chosen any elf for me?”
He looked at me from head to toe, almost in disgust. “I’m not so certain anymore, after what I saw.”
“And what did you see, Araton?” I growled.
His expression turned grave. “I saw you fight for that half-elf with a fire you’ve never embraced before.”
I fell silent for a few seconds, my heavy breathing echoing in the hall.
Then, slowly, I shortened the distance between us and stared at him with hatred.
“If I could have, that day I would have saved every single wounded human on the battlefield. Because it would have been the right thing to do. Just as trying to save the only person who might have had a chance to survive was. I will never apologize for that.”
“You’re lying, Nauriel.” Araton shook his head slightly, watching me with great disappointment. “You’re lying to yourself.”
I recalled Amlach’s sensual voice in my mind persuading me to stay calm. “Just because you decided to shut your heart to goodness after Serie’s death doesn’t mean I have to.”
Pain glimmered in his eyes. “I didn’t shut my heart, Sister,” he replied sadly. “I lost it.”
He hesitated, and that brief pause made me feel so guilty for mentioning his mate’s name.
“And I hope you never find out what that feels like,” he added cryptically, then headed up the stairs.
I remained in the lobby for a whole minute, perfectly still, as if a statue, feeling my lungs burning more intensely with every steady breath.
Then, with unbidden tears on my cheeks, I pushed open the heavy oak doors and entered Araton’s sorrowful wing, making my way through the corridors that linked the three grand main buildings of the palace to reach my own.
Because if I stepped outside again, I would go back to Amlach.