Chapter 56
CEZAR
The birds wouldn’t shut up. That was what woke me up.
Lina was still out cold, face buried in the pillow, hair sprawled across the sheets like she owned the whole damn bed. These moments—her asleep, me resting for once—I wanted them all. Waking up next to her always felt… easy.
With nothing urgent planned for the day, I figured I’d take her to a few places I remembered. Show her the calmer side of this world before it devoured us again.
She lay on her stomach, blanket halfway down her back, giving me a perfect view of the tattoo that always messed with my head. Sometimes I wished she’d just stand there naked and let me admire.
Unable to resist, I let my fingers wander over the roses inked along her spine.
I’d seen the black rose on her arm a thousand times, but these three red roses were something else.
Detailed, layered, almost alive. Three flowers, each larger than the last, their stems weaving together like they were protecting her. I wondered why she chose them.
Born in June—rose birth flower. Maybe that was it. Perhaps her mother had a fondness for roses, just like mine adored Alpine Bellflowers.
Sometimes I question why I ink reminders of everything I’ve lost into my body. The permanence never made the grief any easier.
She stirred under my hand, stretching. “Mmm, that feels nice,” she mumbled, half-asleep.
“Yeah?” I skimmed my fingers down once more. “Hey, why the three red roses?”
Her body stiffened. Barely, but enough that I felt it.
“I got them for my family,” she whispered. “Just like I assume you got the Alpine for your mom. Her name—woven into the stem. Right?”
Always redirecting. Always giving just a sliver of herself before withdrawing again.
“Yes. I got it for her,” I said quietly. “My brothers got theirs after she was murdered. They didn’t tell me for a long time. When Codrin finally did, he showed me his, and I-I needed something too. Her favorite flower made sense. So I got the same thing.” I paused. “Mine’s better, obviously.”
She pressed her face further into the pillow. “You… went alone, Cezar?”
I’d honestly never thought about how depressing that sounded. It was just… life.
“Yeah,” I said. “But it’s fine. We all have something for her.”
I tugged her closer, squeezing until she squeaked and tried to squirm away.
“Whoever did yours, though—damn. They’re beautiful,” I grumbled, refusing to let her go.
“You’re literally going to crush me,” she groaned, taking a dramatic inhale when I finally loosened my grip.
“Maybe.” I smirked, earning a humorous eye roll from her.
“I figured the Alpine was for your mom, but what about that little red rose? I like it, one single line to form the flower.”
My whole body locked. I buried my face in her hair and held on. “It’s not what you think,” I confessed. “Just me trying to repent for my sins.”
I couldn’t bear for her to know the depths of the darkness within me. Perhaps in the afterlife, I would find the courage to tell her about the blood on my family’s hands. Until then, it remained a burden I carried alone.