Chapter 23 Death of a Family #2
“They thought they succeeded. But the darkness was stronger in me than it ever was in them, as it was I who ended our father’s life.
They thought they killed me…” His gaze lifted then, and the shadows around him stirred, alive, restless as if something breathing beneath his skin was trying to break free.
The fire roared higher as if reacting to them, painting his face as a portrait of both sinner and savior.
“…But they failed,” he stated darkly, his voice roughened by memory.
“Even after they drove my father’s dagger through my heart.
” He stood before me now, his bare chest rising and falling with the memory.
The dark veins beneath his skin writhed like smoke under glass, alive and restless.
Then his hand pressed to the centre of his chest. Slowly, impossibly, the shadows began to recede, peeling back from his flesh like mist.
The sight rooted me in place.
At the centre of his chest was a scar that spiraled outward like a cruel flower. The flesh was darkened at the edges, faintly touched by the hue of shadow, as though it had burned itself into him to keep him alive. At its centre, a faint glow pulsed, not quite a heartbeat, but the echo of one.
“They took me to the family crypt and left me there, believing it was over. But the darkness they feared… it saved me. It wrapped itself around my heart, sealed the wound, hid the scars they had given me.” He stepped closer, his voice deepening to a near whisper.
“I was never meant to survive, Nessa, but the curse had other plans.”
“And now?” I asked, my chest tight, my voice trembling. His gaze darkened, something ancient flickering behind his eyes.
“Now… now they will finally answer for it.” He vowed, a flicker of white flashing through his irises, one brief but deadly before he blinked it away. I hesitated, then forced the words past the tightness in my throat.
“We didn’t just lose our father that day.” A staggered breath left me on a gasp,
“I am so sorry, Vas, for everything that has happened to you. You were just trying to protect her and I… well, I understand what that’s like.” I offered, gaining a tender look of understanding in return.
“He destroyed her, and ever since…” Suddenly, he stopped, and it was like watching a thread snap behind his eyes.
One moment, his voice was heavy with sorrow, his expression honest and human.
The next, it shifted, his features tightening, his focus pulling inward.
He went still in a way that made the room feel wrong.
At first, it was subtle, the faint twitch of his jaw, the way his head angled toward the door as if catching something carried on a whisper of air.
Then his entire body seemed to tense, every muscle drawn taut, coiled beneath his skin.
The darkness that lingered along his chest and shoulders pulsed once, faintly, as though reacting to an unseen call.
“Vas?” I whispered, the sound of his name fragile in the thickening air. He didn’t answer. His eyes had gone distant, glassy almost, staring through me rather than at me. It was as if something beyond these walls had reached for him, something only he could sense.
“Vas, what is it?” I asked again, but still, he didn’t respond, not right away. The fire popped sharply in the grate, breaking the silence with a sound that made me jump. And then, finally, he blinked and looked down at me, his face pale, unreadable.
“I have to go,” he said, his voice low, almost strangled, as though it wasn’t truly his own.
“Vas?” I tried again, now getting to my feet and stepping closer.
“You’re scaring me. What’s happening?” His head snapped toward the door. For a second, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes. Fear. Real fear.
“I have to go.” He repeated, making me shake my head in confusion.
“What? Go where?” I demanded, my voice rising.
“You can’t just leave me here without telling me what’s going on!”
He was already moving, crossing to me in a blur of motion, his hands gripping my shoulders firmly.
“Listen to me,” he said, his voice low but fierce, the command in it vibrating straight through my bones.
“Lock your door, Nessa. Do you understand me? Whatever you hear, whatever happens, do not open it.” I blinked up at him, the intensity in his voice making my stomach twist.
“Why? Vas, you’re scaring me.” He shook his head once, sharply.
“It’s not safe. Not tonight. Stay away from the east wing. Promise me. Promise me, Nessa.” I hesitated, but the look in his eyes, dark blue, wild and desperate, made it impossible to argue.
“I… I promise,” I breathed, though I wasn’t sure I meant it.
He released a heavy sigh, his fingers brushing my jaw as though he wanted to say more. But whatever words he’d intended vanished into the air. He stepped back, his mask of composure slipping into place like armor.
“Don’t leave this room. Don’t even think about leaving the house.”
Something inside me snapped.
“So that’s it?” I shot back, my voice trembling between anger and heartbreak.
“After everything we shared tonight, after everything you said… You’re just locking me away again?
Is that what I am to you? Back to being your prisoner?
” His jaw clenched, and for a long moment, he didn’t speak.
The barest hint of guilt gone in a flash as if it had been something he had needed to eradicate out of necessity.
Finally, he met my gaze, his voice a low growl that was equal parts confession and warning.
“You can call it what you want, but you’re not leaving me.” He stated as if this was the law. The words hit harder than any soft claim. But before I could respond, he turned and strode toward the door. I reached out, my fingers brushing air where he had just been, my voice breaking as I whispered,
“Vas…” But he didn’t turn back. Instead, he gripped the doorframe, pausing on the threshold, keeping his back to me. His back was rigid, every muscle drawn tight like a bowstring ready to snap. The dark shadows under his flesh pulsated with some unspoken need.
“I am never letting you go,” he said quietly, his tone a low promise that chilled and burned all at once. He turned his head just enough for me to catch the dark glint of his eye.
“No matter how much they beg.”
The words struck me like a physical blow.
They.
My heart lurched painfully in my chest now knowing where he was going. Or should I say… who he was meeting. So, before he could take another step, I lunged forward, clutching his arm. My fingers wrapped around the solid muscle, the tremor in my hand giving away the panic clawing through me.
“What do you mean by that?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
He didn’t answer at first. His gaze fixed somewhere far away, as though he could already see the battle waiting beyond these walls. The air between us seemed to tighten. Finally, he spoke, softly now, but every word was heavy enough to make my knees weaken.
He turned then, fully facing me. His expression was carved in grim determination, the kind that came from years of pain and vengeance etched into the soul.
He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. Then, just before he could leave me alone to my own torment, he told me,
“It’s time…”
“…Time for a family reunion.”