Chapter 20 Elias
ELIAS
His chest caved in on itself under the weight of his sorrow.
He wanted her—wanted Penelope with a force that felt almost sacrilegious in its intensity.
To accept her as she was, to covet every fragment of her being, to claim her entirely—not just in secret, not just in stolen moments when the town slept, but openly, in the clarity of day, without shame, without fear.
And yet, even as desire coiled inside him, strangling him like a noose, a question gnawed at his core.
Did he not deserve a love that was proud?
A love that would call out to him openly, without shame or hesitation?
Or was he fated to grasp at fleeting moments the cover of darkness allowed, to watch her from the shadows while she lived the life others had built for her—while she obeyed rules he could never abide, while she bound herself in chains of duty?
To only visit her in the stolen moments they could find behind closed doors?
The thought twisted through him, and with it, a bitter ache of longing that made the bed beneath him feel like a coffin. Each breath he drew was shallow and ragged, as if the very air had grown too thick to breathe.
To her, he was sin. He was the serpent that tempted her away from all that was holy. But to him? To him she was everything. She was the garden itself.
If he had only heard her father, if he had not seen the way she froze—choked on her own shame, he might have gladly loved her in silence for all of his endless days.
Yet, he did not. In that moment, all he could hear—all he could sense, was her.
Her gentleness. Her breath. Her scent. The melody of her heart.
If he had not been so enthralled, so consumed by her, he might have lived this lie just a little longer.
The fox curled closer to him on the bed, his wet nose poking Elias’ cheek as he sniffed as though he could scent the injury upon his heart.
“It’s alright,” he breathed, though the words came out broken. He pressed his arm across his eyes, trying to shield himself from the light, from the world, from the knowledge that he could not simply reach out and take her. “I deserve a kind love… I am fine…”
The lie twisted in his throat. Warmness ran unchecked down his cheeks, soaking the sheets beneath him, and he choked on a soundless sob. “I… I am not okay.”
“I am not a monster,” he sobbed.
He curled against the sheets.
“I am not my maker.”
“You cannot remain here,” Eleanor said, weighing down his mattress as she sat on the end. “You need to feed eventually.”
“And I suppose you will offer your blood?” he mocked, refusing to turn away from the wall, hiding from his own humiliation.
“Well, no,” she said, exhaling a laugh that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. “But the rats and other creatures are starting to pile up. It is gross, Elias. Your fox has even started leaving them on our doorstep.”
Elias turned slowly. He held her gaze for a moment and then, despite the hurt, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth despite the ache in his chest. “You are enjoying this,” he said, voice raw yet not without affection.
“I did tell you to leave her well enough alone,” Eleanor scolded, unapologetic.
“But I am also your friend, Elias. Just as I am hers. If you think I am going to watch you rot, you are sorely mistaken. And if I must clean up after you, I expect some cooperation. At least pretend you value yourself beyond mere misery.”
“You make it sound so… pedestrian.”
“Pedestrian? Elias, you are curled in despair like a child. It is tragic—and frankly, ridiculous. I will not watch you squander yourself. Besides, you have not even tried to work things out with her. You just left.”
“She was ashamed of me!”
“She was scared!” Eleanor shot back before stopping herself with a forced breath.
“Listen, I understand where your hurt comes from. Osiris suffered with much the same anxiousness. But, you chose to get close to her. You see how the women in our town are raised. The fact that Penny of all people was willing to go against her father—even if in secret, should show you that there is hope. Read her letter, at the very least. Osiris went though great lengths to retrieve it from that fox of yours. Quite smart, I must admit.”
Elias held her gaze for a moment longer before releasing a breath. “Very well.”
“Good. And after that, perhaps we can discuss the proper management of foxes and vermin. Because if I step on one more dead rat, I will make myself a fox-fur coat.”
He inclined his head, laughing at the idea of Eleanor ever being capable of violence.
Eleanor lingered around the house for only a moment longer, with a few passing comments about the creatures scattered about the house his fox had left for him.
It was not until the door had closed and he was alone, that he pulled the ivory letter from his breast pocket, tearing through the thin envelope and pulling out the parchment.
I suppose you were right,
Her letter started, the familiar curve of her ink spanning the paper as he read.
that first night we met… my final composition will be one so sorrowful, yet so full of beauty. Because in my music, you will be safe. You will never again be hunted, Elias. Persecuted for what you are.
And it is in my hopes that you might still listen. That from a distance, you will still hear my music. That eventually, you will understand.
And if I could ask one thing of you, one favor.
Do not waste my sacrifice.
Live your life, every second of it. Find real happiness beyond your library, beyond the walls that bind me now, beyond the life I am forced to lead with another. And, if it can be, love—for my sake, and for your own. What use is an eternity if it is empty of love?
Yours,
Penelope
“No,” he whispered, voice broken as his fingers curled into the paper, crumpling it in his grasp. “No, this is not how it ends. Not like this. Not with him.”
Rising to his feet, his movements were swift, decisive, each step carrying the weight of centuries of loneliness. A loneliness he refused to return to. He would find her. He would claim her. He would not let their worlds dictate how their love ended.