Chapter 50
I woke up the next day with the worst migraine imaginable. The throbbing kind, accompanied by swollen eyes from crying and deep circles under them. At some point the day before, I'd cried myself to sleep.
I avoided thinking about the colossal mess I'd made the day before—something I regretted the instant it happened. I'd been in such an overwhelming frenzy of hurt, confusion, and fury that I only realized what I'd done when he pulled back in shock. I'd committed one of the worst offenses among fae.
A bite.
My first impulse was to try to heal him, yet the anger hadn't gone away. I hadn't actually wanted to bite him, despite being hurt and feeling everything so intensely—as if I could drown in it all. I'd crossed a line, just as he had crossed one with me, even if unintentionally.
When Zion walked out the day before, every piece of me had shattered on the floor, and I couldn't pick them up. I wanted to disappear, vanish, and pretend it had all been a nightmare.
But it was real, and now I was painfully lucid and awake enough to know it.
As if that weren't enough, it was Serguei's birthday.
I rolled over, grumbling under the covers.
I didn't want to deal with him and Zion at the same time, but there was no escaping it.
One day, while shopping in the human district, a pastor had been preaching about angels and demons on the sidewalk outside the stores. He'd said:
“You can't run away after making a deal with the devil, but you can avoid making one so you don't have to run.”
Wise advice. That I hadn't listened to. I stayed in bed thinking about the day before, but the feelings tangled in my chest, making my head spin.
I was sad about Zion's lie and being shut out by the hospital, but there was also guilt, hurt, and frustration over everything that had happened.
The feelings consumed me from the inside out, battling to see which would prevail.
I wished Zion would stay away after lying about Kaori, but thinking about how he must be feeling after the bite—not understanding it had been a reflex—made me want to go out and find him. I pulled the covers over my face, as if I could hide my shame and hurt from the world.
I didn't sense Zion's presence nearby, but I was certain he'd slept at home. At some point during the night, I'd caught his scent and knew he hadn't broken his oath to always come back.
Gathering every crumb of courage, I got out of bed and, still drowsy, went downstairs to survey the scene below.
The trail of my fury was everywhere. Knives were stuck in the walls, and one of them had hit dead center on the wooden door I loved so much.
In the heat of anger, I hadn't even realized the damage I was doing, but now I wanted to cry seeing all that mess.
I walked around pulling each one out from where they'd been driven in, feeling not even a little proud of what I'd done.
My phone buzzed in my pocket—the bakery, saying the cake I'd ordered for the birthday was ready.
They'd deliver it in the afternoon. At least one thing would go right.
There was also a message from Ambrose apologizing for taking over the interview about Kaori's case.
Now that I was calmer, I replied that it was fine.
Ambrose wasn't to blame; orders were orders, and after graduation, they couldn't suffocate me like that.
Still, even as I tried to stay positive, I felt my hopes of working at the hospital slipping through my fingers.
They clearly didn't want my image linked to the hospital, and that was a strong sign they wouldn't accept me after graduation.
But that wouldn't make me give up. This whole charade might be designed to undermine my motivation, but I wouldn't fall for that game.
I'd lost the trump card with Kaori's case, but nothing stopped me from doing something like that again.
The gift belonged to me, and one day the whole world would know my name. And it wouldn't be through Zion's ex.
While cleaning up the glass shards from the bottle I'd thrown at the wall, I thought about him.
I couldn't entirely believe his words, though I was weighing and evaluating each one.
His reasons for not telling me sooner still didn't sit right with me, even if it had been the sensible thing to do.
At the moment, I didn't know how to react.
So, trying not to think, I spent the day cleaning the house, and at 2 p.m. I busied myself pruning and tending to the garden flowers.
It had been a while since I'd given them any attention.
I put on a worn pair of overalls I used for this task and added a hat to protect myself from the sun.
While pruning dry and damaged branches, memories of the fight swirled in my mind.
Everything he'd said now made more sense, and my foolish heart wanted to believe him, but my thoughts kept clinging to the lie about Kaori and, despite everything, I felt bad for her. Damn it! I felt bad for both of them.
Zion had even confessed he was in love and had tried to kiss me.
A kiss I'd been waiting years for, something I dreamed about and squirmed just imagining.
In that moment, there was so much sincerity, so much vulnerability, but I wasn't ready—my instincts as his partner were wounded, and he could easily use the kiss as a way to manipulate me.
And then, the damn bite. A bite was worse than a slap, worse than a punch.
It was a kind of violence that shamed and subjugated the victim.
He'd be right to never want a relationship with me again, and I wished he would stay away after lying about Kaori.
Yet when I thought about a life without him, my chest tightened and tears flooded my eyes.
I shook my head, determined not to think about all that anymore. How many more ways would I break myself just from liking someone?
“Dramas of youth. At your age, I also thought every fight was the end of the world. But look, here I am!”
I didn't even bother being startled—I already knew Serguei's voice.
“Hello, Serguei,” I greeted flatly, wiping a drop of sweat from the side of my face with the back of my hand.
“I thought you'd already be getting ready for my birthday. Don't think I'd cancel the party just because you think you have a broken heart.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I murmured to myself as I yanked out weeds. “But I also don’t want to discuss feelings with someone who clearly doesn’t understand matters of the heart.”
Serguei laughed inside my mind.
“I may not understand hearts, but I understand fractures. And what you two have doesn’t even come close to a crack. Every relationship has its ups and downs.”
“More downs than ups, apparently. Zion lied to me and I bit him,” I confessed, even though he must have already seen it in my memory. “I bit him and I don’t know how to fix it, just like I don’t know how to silence the jealous, wounded beast inside me.”
“Oh, such drama. What’s a little lie compared to so many other kinds of betrayal? Try killing the person you love most and then having no way to apologize. Then you’ll know how many pieces a person can shatter into and still keep existing.”
I had no response. That story. The story about Zion’s mother.
I opened my mouth to ask more, but decided against it.
It would be rude. I’d never thought about how he felt, and all the stories about the subject were strictly political.
Serguei was seen as a villain, and I used to believe he really was one—until the day I met him.
Now I was curious about the story behind the story and would give anything to hear his side.
“Anything? Is that a blood pact?” I huffed and cleared the thoughts from my mind.
“I take back what I thought. It was just hyperbole.”
“A pity. Either way, my perspective hardly matters. No matter how the story is told, in the end, Ravena dies.”
“But what about your version? Were you ever given a chance to defend yourself?” I asked, setting the pruning shears down on the damp soil.
“There’s no defense for the villain.”
“I don’t think you are one.”
He laughed without humor.
“I think a blind capybara has better instincts than you,” he mocked.
“Or maybe you’re afraid of people seeing the real you.”
He laughed again, but this time with genuine amusement.
“So what? Should I be the good guy? Would the red cloak and white robes look good on me? I don’t think they’d match my eyes.”
This time it was my turn to laugh, but the laughter died quickly as I remembered the massacre he’d committed after killing Ravena. That brought me to another topic.
“I researched the Law of Succession,” I said, cutting some dead branches as I recalled the research I’d done a few days ago. There was an entire book on succession laws, full of rules and flourishes.
“And did you find what you were looking for?” Serguei asked, his tone growing more serious.
“I spent an entire night reading the tome on Succession. I found a lot of unimportant information, but I also found something unusual. There’s a law that caught my attention,” I said, a bit uncertain about the subject.
I felt like I was walking on eggshells. But these were eggshells lined with thorns, and if they cracked, things would get ugly between us.
“This law says that the king’s last three decrees must remain in effect for ten years after his death, and the successor cannot revoke them. ”
“Very good!” Serguei said, still without humor. “And what were the last three laws Elaizer decreed before his death?”
I took a deep breath, recalling everything I’d read.