78
I snapped back to reality with a start, and my breath hiccupped. The cool air on the terrace offered a welcome relief to my overheated limbs. However, that pleasant sensation lasted only a miserable moment, as my gaze suddenly dropped to my hands.
My blood shimmered on my alabaster skin in the pearly moonlight, which cast ruby-red reflections between my fingers and on my knuckles. I also felt it dripping down my back, and it was only then that I realized my dress was torn, just like in the illusion.
An illusion that had marked my point of no return.
My parents’ and Araton’s angry voices suddenly exploded in my ears. I looked down at them. The thought of their battered bodies at my feet, along with those of other innocents, brought tears to my eyes.
I couldn’t let that happen.
So, plucking up my courage, I joined my family at the entrance to my wing of the palace.
They fell silent as soon as they saw me approach with solemn bearing, then flinched when the glow from the courtyard fires made the scarlet patina on my hands shine.
Araton was about to run toward me, but once more, he held back at the last moment. The pain on his face reflected the same anguish that tore at my heart, sparking a surge of anger.
I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to shout that I was still me, his sister, even with these eyes. I wanted to beg him to hug me as he always had and tell me everything would be fine.
However, he kept his distance, too troubled by how I looked to offer the support and affection I needed, now more than ever.
“Oh, merciful Spirits,” Mother gasped in horror, her hands pressed to her stomach, as if she were about to be sick.
Father gave her a look that was more than furious and pointed at me with a brusque gesture.
“Look at her, Annael!” he roared. “Look what that monster is doing to her! If we don’t act immediately, we will lose her forever!
Is that what you want?” he demanded, as tears streamed down her face. “Do you want to lose your daughter?”
“He will kill you all, Father.”
My somber tone rendered him silent. He eyed me as if I were an impostor who had taken the shape of his beloved heir.
“If you take me to the witches, Mornon will exterminate all present at the ritual.” I stared at him harshly. “Is that what you want?”
My father clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he struggled to keep his composure. “The Forest of Witches is guarded by their gods,” he proclaimed, each word articulated imperiously. “And throughout his years of terror, the Abomination has never succeeded in entering it.”
He will succeed for me.
And it would be the end.
Taking me by surprise, Father approached me and stared into my eyes. “We will be safe.” He stroked my cheek with his fingertips, his eyes glinting with immense sadness. With guilt. “And we will save you, fire of my heart.”
Hearing him call me like that again filled me with such joy that a smile pulled at my lips. But when a tear escaped my eyelashes and nearly wet his fingers, he suddenly withdrew his hand, as if that salty drop were poisonous.
And suffering seized me with such ferocity that I let out a sound of deep disappointment.
My mother couldn’t take any more of it and hurried to the narrow courtyard archway, dodged the sentry stationed there, and disappeared from our sight, her crying echoing through the night as she walked away with nearly unsteady steps.
Father looked at me with pity. “Prepare yourself,” he said firmly, then went after his mate.
My brother held my pleading, angry gaze for a few seconds before he made to leave.
“Araton,” I called him abruptly. I stared at him so intensely that he swallowed nervously. “He will come for me.”
My brother raised his chin slightly, determined. “Then I’ll keep him busy until the rituals are complete.”
“No, you won’t,” I countered grimly, keeping my eyes locked onto his so he wouldn’t back away as I neared. “Because when he arrives . . .” I hesitated, my voice trembling with fear and torment and punishment and rage. “You will kill me.”
Fury flashed across his face. “I won’t stay here one second longer,” he hissed.
Before he could leave, I grabbed him by the robe and pulled him toward me. “I love him, Araton,” I admitted with despair.
And after what we had shared a little while ago in the illusion, the way we had done it, I was certain that once I was again facing Calien’s Crystal and Mornon reappeared in my mind, commanding me to take it, I would do so. Then I would run away to be reunited with him.
And that was terrible.
“You must do it,” I told Araton, tears rolling uncontrollably down my face full of shame and pain. “Promise me.”
My brother looked at me with disbelief and indignation for what seemed like ages. At last, with a bitter grimace, he grabbed my forearm and forcefully took my bloodied hand off him, leaving me alone in the courtyard.