29. Leah
Leah
“I…what?” I replay the sentence over in my head, thinking it might make sense this time around. But to my baffled brain, it still sounds like a jumble of words thrown together. “Prophesied? What does that mean?”
He sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair. I’m not sure where he gets off being frustrated right now.
“The day I made my deal with Ajax, I fought and killed an ephilium. Before he died, he had a vision. He told me that my kingdom was doomed to fall, and I would watch it happen. I thought he was talking about Fenlire at the time, but Ajax was true to his word. The capital was saved, and Fenlire continued to flourish for many years. When the kingdom did come to an end, the conclusion wasn’t violent.
It was swallowed up in Strata’s unification.
And anyway, I wasn’t there to watch it happen.
I was already locked out of the human realm by then. ”
I swallow, still at a total loss as to where this is going to start involving me.
“So when the prophecy didn’t come true in the way you expected, you decided it was about Malice instead?” I don’t try to keep the skepticism from my voice.
He looks at me with eyes so sad they make me shift restlessly against the attic floor.
“I believed so, yes,” he says. “But the years went on, turning to centuries. My domain faced challenges, but never a serious threat I couldn’t deal with. I began to hope that maybe that ephilium had lied, or that fate had changed course.”
I huff, impatient. “Okay. But what does any of that have to do with me?”
He closes his eyes, and his face stills, remembering. “Your kingdom is doomed, Syrus Kaldare,” he repeats, an echo from centuries past. “Your kingdom will fall. I see it now. It will crumble into the abyss, and you’ll watch it happen, unable to stop the abomination responsible.”
There’s something unnerving about the wording, so clearly ingrained in Syrus’s mind forevermore. I want to say it’s nothing but bullshit, invented to mess with his head, but it has an odd ring of truth that makes my gut twist.
“What abomination?” I ask, my voice coming out quieter than I intend.
“I asked the same thing,” he says, opening his eyes and settling them on me. “The ephilium said it would be a ‘mixbreed.’ ‘An ephilium with a demon heart.’”
Mixbreed. A bit one thing, a bit another. Like me.
Except, no, not at all. Denial surges up in me.
“Hold on. Just because I’m nephilim, that doesn’t make me some kind of abomination. Not to mention—”
“Trust me,” Syrus says. “I turned those words around in my mind a hundred different ways. Especially after you came along. It’s one of the reasons Viz and I argued about what you were for so long.
Ephilium have never considered nephilim an abomination.
But they might apply that term to mixing pale-blood and demon parentage, like the second part of the prophecy suggests. ”
“You thought I might be half demon and half ephilium?” I say, scrunching my nose up. “But ephilium and demons can’t have children together, can they?”
“Certainly, there’s no known record of it,” Syrus says.
“We considered it unlikely. We suspected instead you might be nephilim, but then both your parents were seemingly human. So for a long time, I was simply suspicious of the fact that you clearly weren’t entirely human, especially when you started taking on some demon qualities. ”
I cradle my head in my hands, angry and confused. “But why would any of that matter?” I groan. “Even if I was nephilim, and the bond gave me some demon quirks, that doesn’t make me ‘an ephilium with a demon heart’ and—”
My head shoots up out of my hands, and I twist around to look at Syrus. He’s watching me intently, his eyes carrying something aching in them.
“Oh,” I say, feeling very stupid. “An ephilium with a demon heart.”
He nods and offers me a small, pained smile. “Yes, Leah. My heart. I tried to tell myself that you couldn’t be the mixbreed spoken of in the prophecy…but I’d already started falling for you. As the weeks went on with us linked, I couldn’t deny that you had the heart of this demon.”
Before I can reach for him, he stands up, having to duck a little under the attic rafters.
Resting a forearm on one of the beams, he keeps his back to me, as if he doesn’t want to face the reality—to face me.
“The possession bond between us made you an unnatural thing as far as most ephilium would be concerned. A pale-blood sullied with demon magic? Some would definitely call that an abomination. But it was my feelings for you that really made me see the true meaning of the prophecy.”
I’m silent, trying to rearrange everything I know—every dropped hint and half explanation. Syrus was so suspicious of any link between me and the ephilium. He suspected I might be working for them. And then when it was clear I had no idea about my heritage…
“So you tried to stop me becoming what the prophecy said,” I say flatly. “Because a powerless human couldn’t possibly destroy a kingdom.”
He drops his head to his forearm. “Yes. I thought if I prevented your ephilium powers from developing, then we’d all be safer,” he says. “Including you.”
“That’s a funny way of saying you thought I’d be less of a threat,” I say, and my voice comes out harsh and bitter. All that talk about keeping us safe, and he meant keeping everyone safe from me, as if I might turn into some raging monster at any moment. It’s ridiculous.
Syrus turns sharply around, his gaze imploring.
“Leah, I was falling head over heels for you—someone whose very presence in Malice put my whole domain at risk. I knew I couldn’t live without you, so yes, I took precautions. Obviously, now I wish—”
“You said yourself it’s all interpretation, Syrus!” And now I’m on my feet, frustration making my blood run hot. “You bet everything on some vague ephilium mumblings that you can’t even really be sure are true, much less about me!”
He takes a step back, his gaze hardening a touch. “The ephilium who foretold the prophecy was your great-grandfather, Leah. You’re wearing his sword. Now doesn’t that seem like the most miraculous coincidence?”
I slump back down onto the mattress, staring at my hands as the air rushes out of me.
Fuck. That does seem like a hell of a coincidence.
Even if I’m not sure I believe in fate or destiny or whatever, I can understand why Syrus was worried.
I’ve seen how seriously he takes his duty as lord.
It would be impossible for him to sit by if he thought something jeopardized his domain. And still…
“So you were afraid, I get that,” I cross my arms. “It doesn’t excuse things, but maybe I see where you were coming from.
Except you didn’t find out I was an Illidore until after I left.
So none of that really explains why you didn’t tell me.
I deserved to know why you thought you needed to shut down my powers, but more than that…
” I give him a hard stare. “If I’d known what you were so scared about, we could’ve worked something out together. ”
He drops his hands to his sides. “I know that. I tied my own hands in the end by pushing you away. At first, it was because I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”
“You thought I might be an ephilium agent,” I say.
He nods. “Or something like that. The circumstances of our meeting already involved a kind of trap being set for me. I wondered if it was maybe just a different trick than I first thought. And you kept a lot of secrets—hiding your real name and your human connections. You disappeared for hours that one time and wouldn’t tell me why. ”
“Because I was afraid of you!” I snap. “I didn’t want to get my friends or family on a demon lord’s hit list.”
“And I came to understand that,” he replies. “You let me in and showed me who you were, and I started to trust you.”
“Right,” I say, working out the timeline in my head. “So I earned your trust, but it wasn’t a two-way street. You lied to me about the runes you put on me, and then my powers turned up anyway. Really great fucking plan, Syrus.”
He raises an eyebrow, and it sends a spike of irritation through me. If Syrus would match my anger, that would make this all easier. Instead, his voice is aggravatingly even.
“Does it help that everything I told you about the runes’ purpose was true? I said they would keep away ephilium magic and protect you. That was accurate, just in more ways than one.”
“No,” I say coldly. “That absolutely doesn’t help. It just shows that you’re a clever, sneaky bastard.”
He nods, accepting the insult. “Not clever enough, obviously. Because I didn’t anticipate how much it would hurt you or understand how I was driven by my own insecurities.”
It’s hard, being given what you’ve begged for so long from someone: acknowledgment, accountability. It’s not the instant relief of a cure, but more like a painful surgery that maybe, just maybe, might lead to some healing.
“I kept telling myself that I would reveal everything to you eventually,” he continues.
“But I’ve been a ruler a long time, Leah, and I’m not used to having to explain or justify my decisions to anyone.
” He sighs, and I’m reminded that Syrus exposing himself like this—raw and naked, prepared to be judged—can’t be easy.
“You’ve accused me many times of trying to control you,” he continues.
“But really, it was the situation I wanted to feel in command of. I didn’t want to take your freedom, but when the elements of the prophecy started falling into place around you…
well…it felt like the forces of fate were ripping all control away from me.
I was afraid, and that had me doing anything I could to get that control back, while still trying to keep you. ”
His words cleave my heart open a little more. “Except you didn’t keep me. You lost me,” I say softly. “I went to Aradis.”