Chapter Thirty-Eight
Vanessa
“Leave me alone!” I shouted as I fled through the house. I had no idea where I was going or what I would do when I got there, but right then, I needed to be away from Vil.
“Vanessa!”
I didn’t stop. I couldn’t get the image out of my head of him callously decapitating a man who could no longer fight back.
A hand grabbed my shoulder. “Vanessa.”
I spun. Though I’d prepared myself for the sight of him covered in blood, I still recoiled.
“Let me go,” I said, trying to still the shaking in my hands.
He was a killer. A cold-blooded murderer of the helpless.
Just like my father.
That was the comparison I couldn’t get out of my head that kept hammering at me on repeat. The parallels between the two. I was born of one and attracted to another. So, what did that say about me?
“Vanessa, please,” Vil said, pain haunting his eyes. “Talk to me.”
“What’s to talk about?” My voice was colder than ice, and Vil flinched as its bite took a chunk out of him. “I saw what you did to that man. No remorse. No emotion. You cut him down, and it didn’t even slow you.”
I shook free of his grip.
“What would you have me do?” he shouted after me as I walked away. “Let them go? So that he could crawl back to his leader? So that others could come to harm? Is that it?”
“I don’t know!” I said bitterly. “But maybe act like you care, at least!”
Vil was suddenly in front of me, his face stony. “I do care.”
“No, you don’t. I saw you. You didn’t even blink before you shoved your sword through his chest and cut his head off.”
“It is my job to punish those who seek to harm others,” he snarled, his anger backing me up.
He took a step toward me.
“Do you think I enjoy it?” he asked, his eyes taking on a haunted look, echoing his voice.
“Do you think I like killing my kin? That it doesn’t destroy me inside every time I’m forced to do my duty?
As if I somehow took pleasure in stealing lives from those who had so many years to live?
Do you really think so little of me as to believe that? ”
I shivered as his voice petered to a ghost of a whisper.
“You certainly didn’t seem to care one way or another back there,” I said.
“It is my duty.” He shook his head. “Should I have handed the job off to Cruce? Ordered him to do it? What sort of leader or prince would I be if I ordered my people to do the killing for me when it needed doing? I take that burden on, Vanessa, so that others, like Cruce, good people, are not forced to do it.”
His chest trembled as he inhaled slowly, shaking with barely contained emotion.
“If by doing it myself, I grant even one of them an extra night’s sleep without feeling the weight of those deaths, then I’ll do it.
I will handle the guilt and suffer a hundred nightmares, a thousand, if it helps them.
Because that’s what it means to lead. I do what I do to try to make their lives better. I don’t always succeed. But I try.”
“Vil …” I said, my hands shaking as I stared at him, stunned by the weight of his confession, of the inner thoughts and emotions tumbling out sentence after sentence.
“So if you truly think that I enjoy killing, that I would murder anyone in their sleep just for fun, then go,” he said, pointing. “Take any car from the garage, and leave. I won’t follow you. I won’t pursue you. I won’t ever contact you again. But know that you have me wrong. I am not that person.”
He turned to go.
That was it. I either let him go, and things were forever over between us. Or I did something I was scared to do.
I would have to trust my gut.
And if you do that, then you’ll be as much admitting to doing something you never thought you’d do again.
So, was it worth it? Was he worth it?
My hand was moving before I even realized I’d decided.
“Vil,” I said, grabbing his arm and stopping him.
“Yes?” he asked.
I took his hand and slid my fingers through his. I forced myself not to react to the blood that smeared across my skin. Blood he’d shed.
“Come with me,” I whispered, pulling him along.
He followed. His room had been destroyed by the bomb, but others remained intact. I found a shower, and as he reached for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his body, I stilled him with a gentle touch.
“Let me,” I said softly, slowly stripping his blood-stained clothing from his body, piece by piece. I took his shirt and his pants, socks and underwear, until he was naked. He didn’t fight me, only moving his body slightly to help.
Then I ran the water until it was warm and pushed him into the stall.
My clothes came off in a heap, and I joined him, not hiding the scars on my stomach and chest. They were a part of me, and Vil had seen them before.
He didn’t care, and I was determined to try to do the same with him at least. Right then, he needed me to be strong for him, so I was.
“Sit,” I said, pulling his arm until he sat on the floor in silence. I took the center of the shower head off—it was one of those fancy two-in-ones, where part of it was permanent and part was a removable handle—and began to rinse him.
The water flowed red as I massaged his hair and washed his ears and body, sluicing the blood and other remnants of the fight from him. Vil sat still, letting me minister him, cleaning his body until the water was clear. Then I washed my own hands and the bit of my forearm that had been coated.
Next, I sat beside him, the shower falling over both of us, and I pulled him into my arms, holding him tight. He didn’t cry, but I could feel the weight of his emotions lifting. He curled into my neck and let me hold him.
I didn’t know for how long we stayed like that. No talking, no movement. Just the water splashing down over us while I held him tight to me.
“I’m sorry,” I said at last, lifting his head to look into his eyes. They were silvery-gray still, but some of their brightness was still missing. I wondered if it would ever return. “I didn’t know.”
“And there’s no reason you should,” he said. “I’d hoped to spare you from this. It’s not your world. You shouldn’t have to be exposed to it.”
I frowned. “You already said that your mate will be the princess. Which means this will be my world. Adopted, perhaps, but nonetheless still mine. I would share it all with you, Anvil. No more secrets. No more taking everything onto yourself. If you want to do this, then we’re going to do it together. ”
“Together?” he asked quietly.
“Together,” I said.
“You know that means we must take the Test, then,” he pointed out. “I won’t force you, but …”
“I’m ready to be judged,” I whispered, feeling the last of my walls fall away, revealing the truth I’d been scared of admitting all along.
“I’ve killed and seen others killed. I’m with you to the end, Vil.
If this God-King of yours judges that I don’t sufficiently love you, then I’ll die knowing he’s wrong. ”
Vil’s entire body went still. “What did you just say?”
I grinned. I didn’t want to hide it anymore. The truth was burning a hole in me, even as I’d tried not to think about it or deny it. But no more. It was time I accepted it and told the world. “I said I love you.”
He wrapped his arms around me, and then somehow, we were on our feet, lips pressed together.
“I love you, too,” he growled. “God-King, but it feels good to say that. And to hear it.”
His eyes were bright and silvery once more.
“And to feel it,” I grinned, wiggling my hips against his erection.
“I’ve been sitting next to you naked for half an hour,” he growled, pushing me back against the tiled wall. His cock was growing harder by the second. “Just what do you expect from me, my love?”
“I expect,” I said throatily, sliding a hand down my body while he watched until I could wrap it around his hard shaft where it rested against my stomach, “that you’ll do something about it.”
Vil lifted me, pinning me to the wall in mid-air.
“Gladly,” he rumbled.