Chapter 25
Craving
THE REQUIEM | Past
The storm outside is not as violent as the one in my heart. It rattles, shakes, and shatters everything I’ve ever believed in.
Whatever I thought we were. The lies, the false hopes, the pain this man has caused me cannot compare to the hatred I have for him.
Every time I breathe, I am reminded of his cruelty. I am reminded why I was a fool for falling for him. I gave too much of myself, yet expected nothing in return. But as I stand here in the middle of the room, breathing hard, my heart bleeding, no amount of balm can soothe me.
Zagreus stands by the door, watching me as I tear his room apart. I’ve thrown the vases at him, the antiques, and made a mess of it just like he has made of my life. But he hasn’t even lifted a finger.
That infuriates me more.
When the strength leaves me, I collapse on the ground, crying for my Father.
He killed him.
He killed my Father.
Even though your Father was an abuser?
A voice whispers, but I tune it out. Abuser or not, he had no right. He was not God, and he certainly is not anyone to me.
My hands clutch at my dress as though I can rip the agony out of my chest.
“For your sick revenge, you didn’t even hesitate to kill my Father.” My vision blurs with tears as I look up at the man standing before me.
The man I loved. The man I trusted. The man who destroyed me. And watched me burn.
“His death was not my agenda.”
I laugh bitterly through my tears.
“What was your agenda then, huh?”
My heart is being ripped out with bare hands. “Tell me. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you got everything you wanted.”
His expression hardens. “You.”
The single word steals the air from my lungs. I stare at him in disbelief before another hollow laugh escapes me.
“Me?” I push myself to my feet. “That’s supposed to make this better?”
“No.”
“Then what?” I demand. “What exactly was your plan, Zagreus? Destroy my family? Burn them to the ground? Make me fall in love with you first so it would hurt more when you stabbed me in the back?”
His jaw clenches. “You think I wanted this outcome?”
“I don’t care what you wanted!” I scream.
Thunder cracks outside.
“My Father is dead!” I can’t breathe. “My Father is dead and you’re standing here talking about intentions.”
Pain flashes across his face. But I am too shattered to care.
“You know what the worst part is?” My voice trembles.
“Not that you lied to me. I don’t care that you used me…
” A tear slides down my cheek. “The worst part is that I loved you. I defended you when everyone warned me against you. I trusted you when I should have run. I chose you over and over again.”
I wipe angrily at my tears. “And for what? You looked me in the eye every day knowing what you had done.”
His throat works. He doesn’t look like the man I knew. Not the man I loved. He walked away from me when he announced his marriage to Crystella. He lost me when he chose her over me, when he chose his revenge over us.
“You let me dream about a future that never existed.” I break, looking him in the eyes, the eyes I once wanted to drown in, not knowing they’d drown me so bad I’d never see the light again.
“That’s enough.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You don’t get to decide when I’ve said enough.”
For the first time, Zagreus takes a step forward until he’s standing only a few feet away. Rain pounds against the glass. The storm outside has finally caught up with the one inside.
“When I started this,” he says quietly, “revenge was all I wanted.”
My stomach twists.
“But somewhere along the way, you became the one thing I never expected.”
I close my eyes.
Because hearing those words now feels less like a confession and more like a curse.
“If that’s your version of love,” I whisper, tears falling freely down my face, “then I wish you had hated me from the start.”
“Stop, Dolcezza.”
“No.” I shake my head again. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. And you don’t get to call me that. You lost the right when you decided to take everything from me.” My voice breaks. “You killed my Father, and my Mother is all I have left, and you left her to die there.”
The memory of my Father flashes through my mind. His smile. His laughter. The way he would kiss my forehead and tell me that no matter what happened, he would always protect me.
A fresh wave of grief crashes over me. Tears stream down my cheeks.
“You took the only person who loved me unconditionally.”
For the first time since I started destroying the room, Zagreus looks away. As though he cannot bear to meet my eyes. That only fuels my rage.
“Look at me!”
Slowly, painfully, he raises his gaze as if it costs him something. Or maybe he only pretends that well, and I never knew the real him.
And what I see there almost knocks the breath out of me. Guilt.
Raw and devastating. I want him to suffer.
I want him to feel even a fraction of the pain tearing me apart.
“I hope you suffer the same way, Zagreus. I hope your parents are taken from you the same way you took mine away.” I don’t mean that, but I am hurting so much that I don’t even realize what I am saying. All I can focus on is the pain my words cause him.
Zagreus closes his eyes as if he’s trying to calm himself, and not hurt me. But I want him to hurt me more, so that I can hate him more.
For a moment, neither of us speaks before he sighs.
“I am saying this again, I never meant for your Father to die.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I whisper. “Do you think that matters now?”
His hands curl into fists.
“I am telling you the truth.”
“The truth?”
I take a shaky step back. “The truth left this relationship a long time ago.”
His face darkens. “You don’t know everything.”
“Then tell me!” I scream.
“Tell me why we are standing on opposite sides when we were supposed to be always and forever!”
His jaw tightens. “I was never going to marry Crystella.”
“Another lie.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why?” I demand. His gaze goes flat.
“Because Ronan and Vane needed to believe I would.”
My stomach twists. “What does that even mean?”
“I can’t tell you.”
I chuckle bitterly. “Of course you can’t.”
“Dolcezza—”
“Don’t.”
My voice cuts through the distance between us. “Every single time I ask you for the truth, you hide behind secrets.”
His expression flickers.
“If I tell you certain things, I put you in danger.”
“That’s convenient.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then prove it.”
He can’t. We both know that. Because maybe he is telling the truth. Or maybe he is lying again. And I can no longer tell the difference.
I bring a trembling hand to my temple as a sharp pain pulses behind my eyes. For the briefest moment, the room tilts. The shadows near the fireplace shift.
I blink until they’re gone.
He’s on me in another second. His large, calloused hands cup my face. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, slapping his hands away.
The specks of black cover his pupils. “It wasn’t nothing.”
“Since when do you care?”
I know how cruel my words are. But I am drowning, and I want him to drown with me.
“I never stopped caring.”
I smile at him. “If you cared, my Father would still be alive.”
He doesn’t deny it or try to defend himself. The anger is exhausting. The grief is exhausting. Everything hurts.
My Father is dead. My future is gone.
The man I loved is standing in front of me, looking like he’s suffering too, and I hate that some pathetic part of me still notices.
I hate it.
“Where is my Mother?” I ask, not letting him know how desperate I am. I know men like him feed on desperation; they love when the prey they want to capture shows anxiousness. It’s fun for them.
“Safe.”
I lift my head. “Take me to her.”
“No.”
The refusal is immediate. I expect it. “So, now you’re going to keep me here against my will? First, you tried to rape me and now I’m your slave?”
“No.”
My pulse kicks. “Then take me to my Mother.”
“Not yet.”
A hysterical laugh escapes me. “Not yet?”
I stare at him as if he’s gone mad. “You’re keeping me from her?”
“You don’t understand the situation.”
“Then explain it!”
“I can’t.”
“Please.” The word slips out before I can stop it. I can’t lose my Mother too. She’s all I have left now.
“Please, Zagreus. If you ever loved me, or cared for me, let me see her.” I take a shaky breath. “I just want to see her.”
My eyes burn. “I need to know she’s alive.”
“She is.”
“I need to hear her voice.”
His expression hardens. “No.”
My knees nearly buckle. “Why?”
“Because I said no.”
A sob rips from my throat. I sink to the floor. The grief I’ve been holding back crashes over me all at once. I cry so hard that I can barely breathe. For several moments, all I hear is the storm and my own broken sobs. Then arms wrap around me.
I should push him away. I should hate his touch.
Instead, I am too exhausted to fight.
My forehead presses against his chest as I cry.
And for a moment, I hate myself for how natural it feels.
His hand slides through my hair. “I’ll bring her to you.”
Hope flares so violently it hurts. I pull back immediately. “What?”
His eyes lock onto mine. “I’ll bring your Mother back.”
My heart pounds. “Really?”
“On one condition.”
The hope dies. “No.”
“You haven’t even heard it.”
“I don’t care.”
“Marry me.”
I stare at him. Certain I’ve heard wrong. “What?”
“Marry me, Selene. Be my wife.”
Shock gives way to fury. I shove against his chest and stumble backward. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“I’m serious.” His arms wrap around me, pulling me closer to his chest.
“After everything you’ve done?”
“Yes.”
“Dolcezza—”
“No.”
I point toward the door. “Get out.”
“I can protect her.”
“Get out.”
“I can keep her alive.”
“Get out!”
The thunder outside shakes the walls. Neither of us moves. Then Zagreus straightens. The warmth vanishes from his face. The vulnerability disappears behind cold determination.
“You have a choice.”
My stomach drops. “I am not choosing anything.”
“You are.”
He walks toward the door. Each step feels like a countdown to the misery I chose the moment I thought he was capable of love.
“You can continue hating me.”
My chest tightens.
“You can refuse me.” His hand settles on the handle.
“But understand something.” He looks over his shoulder.
And in that moment he is like the stranger I met all those months ago: powerful, untouchable, dangerous.
The heir to the underworld throne and not my Zagreus.
“There are men outside who want your whole bloodline dead.”
Fear crawls up my spine. “I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to. But eventually you will have to decide.”
My throat closes. “Decide what?”
His eyes meet mine one last time. “Whether your hatred for me is greater than your desire to see your Mother again.”
The door opens. “No—”
But he is already leaving me alone with my grief. With my doubts. With the impossible choice he has placed at my feet. And as the door shuts behind him, something terrifies me more than anything else.
I don’t know what the right answer is.