Chapter 40
40
Amir
A nora hasn’t spoken a word to me since last night, and it’s eating me alive. She knows now—the real me. What I’ll do to keep her. The evil, unhinged shit I’ve done just at the thought of losing her.
Now there’s only one question.
Can she still love a monster?
Because that’s what I am.
I might look like an angel. I might hold the beauty of one. But I am nothing of the sort. I’m darkness, rage, a monster through and through.
I’m not easy to love, and I know it. I wanted to keep this part of me from her—this terrifying, ugly side—but Fate doesn’t give a damn about what I want.
I stand outside on the porch, my hands trembling like I’m some nervous boy meeting a girl’s father for the first time. I’m not used to this—I’m supposed to be strong, untouchable. Yet here I am, sick with fear because I’m terrified she’ll walk out that door and look at me differently .
When she traveled last night, she didn’t just bring the bruises back with her—she came back with the truth. And now, I can’t run from it. I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I can’t rationalize the madness that clouds my mind when it comes to Anora. There’s no excuse, no way to justify it. And every time I think about what I did, the slaughter, I feel the rage and shame creep back in, ready to consume me all over again.
I’ve always lived with the burden of what I’ve done. I’ve tried to separate myself from it, distance myself from the others who suffer because of my actions. But what happened in that moment—a moment full of blood and madness—came from fear. From seeing her blood on the wall. From knowing she had been hurt and I wasn’t there to stop it. It tipped something inside me, something I can’t control.
I hear the beasts inside me roaring, clawing, urging me to go to her. To do whatever I have to do. Beg, plead, grovel—whatever it takes to make it right.
When the cabin door creaks open, I hold my breath. She steps out, and in that instant, the whole world stops. She’s beautiful, as always, but today...today she looks different.
Her hair is flat and sleek, flowing smooth down her back. She’s wearing a light winter coat, the kind that hugs her just right, with matching tan boots. Her dress and leggings suit her perfectly. Emotion swells in my throat, and I bow my head low. She deserves a king who knows her worth. She deserves a king who can honor her.
She stops at the top of the porch, drawing a sharp breath. Then, with a loud huff, she steps closer to me.
“I—I don’t know what to say,” she murmurs. Her voice is hesitant, guarded. God, I want to touch her, but I force myself to keep my hands by my sides .
“I was going to tell you,” I say softly.
She gives me a small, weary smile. “I know, Amir,” she breathes, her words soft and visible in the cold. Her breath fogs, curling in the space between us. “I remember when you tried.”
She looks up, her eyes meeting mine, and the intensity of the moment is overwhelming.
“Do you hate me for what I’ve done?” I ask her quietly, my voice thick with guilt.
Tears well in her eyes instantly, and it shatters me. I’ve seen a lot in my endless years, but nothing crushes me like a woman crying—especially her.
“It’s okay to hate me,” I whisper. The words taste bitter coming out.
Her head snaps up, her eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and sadness, and the heat of it burns through me.
“That’s the problem, Amir,” she says, her voice cracking. “It doesn’t matter what you do. Nothing will change how I feel about you.”
I try to touch her, to reach for her, but she steps out of my grasp.
“I—I’ve always known there’s a darkness in you. But both of you are the same. You’re no different from your sister.”
Her words strike me like a blow, and I drop my head, shame washing over me. It hurts so damn much to hear her say it. My ears twitch, and I can feel the beasts inside me retreating, submitting to her judgment. I’d do anything—anything—to win her favor again.
“Innocent women and children,” she mutters under her breath. Her words cut into me, and it takes all my strength to stay standing. Every part of me wants to drop to my knees and beg for her forgiveness .
Her steps bring her closer again, and when she looks up at me, her gaze burns. But there’s something else there too, something confusing. There’s a shift in her scent—something hopeful.
“Have you ever touched dark magic? Felt its corruption?” she asks, her tone sharp.
“No, Anora. I have no dealings with dark magic,” I answer quickly, desperate to prove I’m not irredeemable.
“How many times have you done something like this?”
“Once,” I answer honestly, my voice steady. “I went into my six-hundred-year slumber immediately after.” I pause, then hesitate. “Well, there were the dragon shifters I had to execute?—”
She slaps my chest, cutting me off.
“Be for real!” she snaps, and I wince at her modern slang. It’s grating, but I don’t even care.
She’s here. She hasn’t left. That’s all I can hold on to right now.
I cup her face gently, thankful she doesn’t push me away when she should. “I don’t mean to make light of this, angel,” I say softly, my voice steady. “You hold all the cards, Anora. I can’t justify what I’ve done. I take full accountability for everything.”
She sighs, leaning into me, her arms wrapping around my waist. “Now it makes sense. Why you didn’t want to come here.” Her words cut through me, but her touch grounds me.
“We’ll fix things,” she says suddenly, her voice firmer. She pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes. “We’ll get with Angie, figure out how to activate my powers, and then we’ll destroy dark magic. Together, ” she snaps, determination burning in her tone.
Her words make me freeze. I pull her back to meet her eyes, unable to help the worry creeping up inside me. “Then we’ll go,” she mutters, her voice softening. “I wanted to stay here, on Wintermoon. But I don’t want you killing anyone because of me.”
That twist in my stomach tightens, and I want to argue. I want to tell her I’ve got my temper handled, but do I? I ate her ex’s heart because he had the nerve to think about raping her. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Just... rage.
Maybe humans are on to something with their lesser punishments—prison, second chances. I shake my head at the thought. Hell no. Hurting my woman is just cause for death, no debate.
And there it is—I just rationalized my own madness. I’m insane, plain and simple. A goddamn lunatic. And yet, when I look into her eyes, how can I not be?
“I promise you, between the Great Flood and the Great War, that’s all that happened,” I murmur.
Her glare feels like a dagger, but she nods. I know that sting of what I’ve done will live with her forever.
“You’re not fully to blame, Amir,” she says quietly. Her tone is softer now, but it doesn’t feel like relief. She steps back from me, placing her hands on the porch railing. She gazes into the distance like she’s searching for answers.
“Something’s wrong,” she says. “It’s like that whole situation was orchestrated. All the times I’ve traveled, I’ve never made contact with anyone. I’ve always just... observed.” She pauses, looking back at me. Her brows furrow, and her confusion is clear on her face. “I know you said I come to you from a distant future. I guess that means I already have my powers then. But last night... the cloaked woman said to me, ‘I needed to learn.’ Then she let me through the veil. That’s when the bear shifter caught me. He knew I was a witch instantly. He wanted me dead. ”
“That was three days after the Great War,” I explain. She stares up at me, awe flickering in her expression for a brief moment.
“Hm,” she says softly, looking away again.
“I needed to learn,” she echoes. “Learn what? What you’ll do if you lose me?” She sighs heavily, her words adding an almost unbearable weight to the moment.
I stay silent because I know exactly what I’d do if I lost her. This entire planet would be reduced to ash, left as a hollow shell. If I have to spend eternity alone, then so be it. I’m not surviving without my mate.
“I need access to my powers now,” she mutters, mostly to herself. “I need to figure out how to control this. It feels like the cloaked woman holds all the cards, and I don’t even know how to defend myself against her.”
I bow my head to her. “I’ll do anything to make that happen,” I promise quietly.
“She said when I tamper with things, I alter the course of time. She told me it’s always better to observe,” Anora says, frustration spilling from her tone.
“I wish you could just see who the cloaked woman is,” I tell her. “It would help me figure out who’s guiding you during your travels.”
She huffs in frustration, rolling her eyes. “Every time I try to get closer to her, it’s like... like I can’t reach her, even though she’s right there. It doesn’t make sense,” she mutters.
Before I can respond, the pack starts filing out of the cabins, one family at a time. Anora looks to me, holding out her hand. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go shopping, forget about our problems for a little while.”
I freeze. Even knowing the kind of monster I am, she still loves me. She still wants me .
When she realizes I’m not moving, she reaches out, grabbing my wrist and clasping her hand in mine.
“Wrong or right, Amir, I still love you,” she says softly. She smirks, her gaze narrowing. “I’m side-eyeing you, though.”
I kiss her before I can even think, pulling her close and pouring all of my love and despair into it. She needs to feel how much she means to me—to know she’s my everything.
“I love you, Anora,” I breathe against her lips, my voice rough.
“I love you too,” she whispers back, and I see it. I smell it. Her love for me is real. Even after everything, she still loves me.