Chapter Forty-Seven
Asher
E verything hurt. Everything ached. Everything blurred.
And then she appeared.
Was I losing my mind now? Was that the consequence of such a gift? Did Eternity wish to punish me?
“You’re so odd. Like a bumbling little drake.” Her voice was lovely, as was her hair. So odd.
“Pink.”
“It is. Want to know a secret?” She leaned in, almost conspiratorially. Her light brown skin and rosy cheeks blocked the bodies around me from view. Unbelievably long lashes framed her glowing pink eyes, her flowing navy dress sticking to her as the rain assaulted us. “He lusts only for you, that prince. Like a devoted praising their oh-so-benevolent god. That male there, he worships you.”
She pointed towards Bellamy, whose head had been crushed into the mud by golden armor. I knew I needed to save him, to move, to do anything, but I felt rooted to the spot. Transfixed by the creature before me.
“Are you a goddess?” Asking that felt wrong, like it might upset her. Disgrace her. Annoy her.
“You’re not one of those idiots who believe in gods, are you? Eternity is above, below, and all around. We breathe it in and speak to it in our dreams. And yet you creatures wish to pray to false gods? That’s actually quite embarrassing for you.”
“I have met a god,” I muttered, shrugging at her. Were my knees shaking, or was it the ground beneath me? I wished it would stop.
“Sure you have. I think what you need is medical attention. Let me take you home, get you nice and cozy, introduce you to the big boss, and then all will be well. Come now, smelly.” She gestured for me to come, clearly eager to go wherever she considered home.
But that was not right, was it? My home was here. With Bellamy. He was my home. And they all needed me. They would drown if I did not wake them up soon. Had any fallen upon their weapons? What would I do if they were harmed? I needed help. I could not go anywhere when my focus was so vital to this moment.
“Why are you doing that? Stop it. I’m trying to preserve my magic, and you’re over here resisting your most prominent sins.” Her hand gripped my wrist, tugging me away from the mass of bodies. “Color me annoyed.”
“But you are pink.” I looked back, my words far more absentminded than normal. Bellamy needed my help. Bellamy needed me. Bellamy was too important.
“Please tell me you’re more fun when you’re not disoriented, because if not, then this is going to be a long life.”
A swirl of pink began to swarm us, her grip firm around my wrist and her face tight with obvious annoyance. It was then, when she lifted her free arm towards the glittering pink cloud, that I suddenly felt my control slink back into me. Groans came from behind us, and I peeked to see a bloody Bellamy being lifted by a smaller than normal Wrath.
“I think I will stay, actually.” My words were calm, but my body had begun to tremble, my magic weaker than normal after exerting so much, but still there and ready to fight back with all it had.
The female sighed, turning to face me with what could only be described as a vexed expression. “Must I force you? I prefer not to, and I just know he’ll use it against me if I do.” She did not sound all that opposed to it.
“Who is he?” I asked, stalling for time by allowing my curiosity free rein. Her hold on my wrist tightened, her voice dropping down lower and sounding deadlier than a sword as she spoke.
“We don’t have time for stupid questions. Now, come on.” With one last heave, she tried to drag me into the cloud of what I assumed was magic.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Ugh, this is ridiculous! I have killed for less! How does anyone put up with you? All I want is to finish my mission, get my creature, and be done with it all. But of course, you need to be difficult!” She rambled the words, her hand moving in time as her rage and annoyance permeated the air. “I sent that fetch to make this easier, quicker even. Ha! Some joke that was.”
She sent the fetch? She called me annoying, but—as per usual—I seemed to be the only one willing to answer questions around here.
“Do you know what awaits you here, Asher? Death. That’s what you’ll face if you don’t come with me. Not just your death, but all of theirs, too.” Her arms lifted, gesturing to the sea of bodies around us. When she pointed towards Bellamy, I had to do my best not to flinch. If she noticed him moving, what would she do? Would she kill him? By sheer luck, she did not let her eyes stray from mine, instead staring at me with determination. Just then, I felt the ground beneath my feet harden, a ripple of Earth power that seemed to lift every sleeping soldier out of the mud as it changed the dirt to stone. A quick glance away from the battlefield showed me that a mere foot to my right, the ground remained a mess of mud and blood. “That sexy little prince you love so much? He will die if you don’t shut up, take my fucking hand, and come with me now.”
“I am not going with you, and none of them will die because I will not allow it. For once, I am not afraid of my magic. It will save them. I will save them.” While I felt the truth of what she said in my bones, I also knew that I could change it. No future was set in stone. There was always a chance to make a new one.
Did it make sense to her, that desperate need to alter the ending that had been written? Did she think me insane? Did I care if she did?
Was she glowing?
“Come with me now, or face the consequences. I won’t offer a second time.”
“No,” I said, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin. I felt her rage then, the taste of it sweet and foreign.
“Oh, if I could rip out your throat, I would. I hope you know that my death will stain your hands red, you little pest. When you visit my grave, because I’m sure he will gladly utilize my loss as some sort of manipulation tactic, I hope you remember this moment.”
With that, she spun on her heel and walked towards the cloud of sparkling pink mist, stopping inches shy of it.
“On second thought, let me leave you with a parting gift.” Over her shoulder, she looked towards Bellamy and Wrath, the white of her eyes slowly growing and every speck of pink bleeding from her irises. Her body glowed the same dusty rose color of her hair, and then she looked to me.
I felt it then, like a hammer slamming into my mind, shaking free every thought of inadequacy and each desperate need to be more than I was. I gasped, reaching for my chest.
“What do you get when you put together a female yearning for redemption and a male craving love?” The question was worded with a facetious tone, as if the entirety of our lives was a joke to her. Or perhaps she had seen something similar before and knew it would never end well. “The perfect storm.”
As if on cue, thunder boomed above, rattling my jaw and making me flinch. She disappeared, the pink dissipating behind her. Bellamy’s arms wrapped around me moments later, his hold on me so tight that it hurt. He clawed at my body, his mud-and-blood-soaked hands searching for injuries he would not find.
And though her magic had seemed to slowly fade from my body, it still left behind every thought and feeling that I had about my own inability to be what everyone needed. It hollowed me of all my joy and triumph and even anger, leaving me with nothing more than the need to do better.
“Are you okay? Who was that? Did she hurt you?” Each word sounded as if it were an effort to say, like he was speaking with limited air.
I shook my head, his hands finally settling on my face as he leaned down to look me directly in the eyes. Blood still dripped from a startling gash just above his eyebrow, though it seemed to be slowing as it fought to heal.
Wrath’s body wove between our legs, trying to catch my undivided attention. Allowing my eyes to drift down despite my mind’s inability to focus on anything but what needed to be done, I noticed the blood that coated Wrath’s fur. The silky gray strands were now almost black, his sharp teeth tucked away within his mouth. Those yellow eyes bore into me—seeing what, I did not know.
All I knew was that I had failed. Spectacularly. Whatever that female and her master wanted with me, it was nothing compared to the epic ways in which we would all die if I did not fix this.
“Strange One, you do not look right. Are you sure you are okay?”
“We need to get everyone awake and start portaling back. Ranbir will be able to check you out. Once we are in Eoforhild, we can figure everything out.” I pushed away from them, ignoring Bellamy’s planning and stepping into the mud as I clawed at my head—willing the thoughts to leave my mind while simultaneously succumbing to them.
Bellamy’s and Wrath’s words became muffled, falling behind the voice within my mind that scolded me for being so selfish, that wondered why I did not do more when seeking help from Xalie or even try to convince Yrassa. Had I truly allowed myself to give up? How could I live with myself if I let that continue on?
“I need to go to Yrassa.” Whatever hostile argument the two had been having was abruptly ended in favor of staring at me in disbelief. And why not? I had just promised them that I would stop trying, that I was done. While I knew that the female’s magic had begun to gorge on my psyche, depleting me of any and all egocentric thoughts, I still could not stop the way it made me feel.
“What do you mean? Ash, we need to get to Dunamis. This has gone on for too long. You need to speak to Adbeel, and we need to prepare. I need for us—”
Like a bow pulled taut and held there for far too long, I snapped, the harsh arrow that was my words hitting home in Bellamy’s chest.
“We have no time to waste prancing around Eoforhild and speaking to your king. Lives are at stake. The world is at stake! For one moment, can you please care about anything other than these stupid fantasies of us living under a rainbow and picking strawberries and having a happily ever after? That is not going to happen, especially if we do not stop this war!” I yelled, voice hoarse from the hysterical way I shoved the thoughts to the surface.
My hands flew outwards gesturing to the destruction and the death that surrounded us. A very clear show of how bad this could—and would—become. For his part, he just watched me with barely parted lips and unnaturally wide eyes.
“I was not meant to live in joy, how can you not see that? Everything I touch withers and dies— I kill it , Bellamy. I kill it! I cannot show you love through small kisses and pretty flowers and pregnant bellies. I was not made to be that way. But I can fight for you and I can die for you. How can you be so selfish as to not let me do so? To do everything I can to repent? To save the lives of those I have wronged? The world does not revolve around us and our self-centered desires! The world was not made for dreamers!”
Stunned, he momentarily stared at me, the great smack of my vitriol hitting him in the chest and leaving him gasping for air. But then…well, it seemed the female’s magic had fed the very opposite trait of Bellamy’s than it had mine. But it left him just as uncontrollably frantic.
“You want to call me selfish? Fine!” It was his turn to yell, that beautiful and raspy voice somehow sharp now, when it was so often a lulling and heavy tune. “I am selfish. I never pretended to be anything else with you, Asher. From the moment I saw your face in Reader River, I knew I would do anything, be anything , for you. You say you would die for me. That is the easy part. I would kill for you. I would burn the world to dust for you. I would defy the gods for you. I would become the villain, gladly ! Do you think that I do not see how we differ in that? That I do not realize you would choose the world over me? That you would sacrifice everything for the good of the world, including us?”
Fingers threaded through his hair, tugging as he tried to speak his thoughts. Small black flames erupted near his feet, the magic in his veins writhing beneath the skin of his neck. A hiss sounded from Wrath, the dalistori looking around us with paranoia and trepidation upon his face. Bellamy’s voice caressed my heart once more, the action soothing until it was not.
“Before you, I was fighting for my realm out of obligation. Blindly attempting to save everything and everyone that would rather see me rot in the ground than sit atop a throne. I never even wanted the damn thing. I do not want to wear a crown and watch as half of me wars with the other. I barely cared to exist before you! And then I watched you walk onto that balcony in a hideous fucking gold gown, looking so clearly miserable, and I wanted nothing more than to make the world better. For you! Everything I do is for you! And if it is from my own selfish desire to be the thing that makes you happy or perhaps to feed off of that joy like a drug, then I am selfish . And I do not want to be anything else. Because it constantly feels like the end, and I do not regret soaking up every second when I do not know if it will be my last! But you refuse to do the same, to put me first! How do you think that makes me feel?”
I meant to speak, to apologize or argue further or maybe even laugh at the ludicrousy of such a thing because of course it was the end. We were all quickly sailing towards death, none of us prepared and each of us pretending like that was not the truth.
Before I could so much as think to conjure a response, Wrath’s shouts filled the air.
“Get down!”
The hissed instructions tore my attention, and I found myself trying to dive down, Bellamy jumping towards me to cover my body. We grunted as we hit the soggy and sticky mud, the thickened substance practically grabbing hold of our limbs. Even with all of the sloshing, I still heard the cry of pain, still understood exactly what the next graphic smack into the mud was. With a shove, I got Bellamy off of me, and what I saw would live on a throne within my nightmares, just beside Winona’s throat being slit.
Wrath lay in the mud, his stomach rising and falling far too quickly, his breaths coming out as pained wheezes. I screamed, unable to stop the blood-curdling sound from scratching up my throat, clawing its way to freedom and reverberating back to us as it echoed in time with a streak of lightning. Both Bellamy and I reached for him at the same time, the golden arrow wobbling as we jostled the dalistori. A small hiss of pain left Bellamy’s lips as he quickly ripped his hand away, but my eyes remained on Wrath.
Cries of agony came and went—hello, goodbye; alive, dead; the beginning, the end. Not bothering to look around us, I honed in on Wrath’s distressed face, his yellow eyes squinted in anguish.
“It is going to be fine, Wrath. We are going to make you better. Ranbir can help you. Please, hold on.” My fingers went to his chin, rubbing just below it as I pulled back his fur to look at the arrow.
Black blood poured from his throat, soaking his body and my hands with each gurgled breath or stuttered heartbeat.
“I do not see anyone moving. Whoever shot that is either gone or hiding. Either way, we need to go, now. Places like this are too open. Wrath, can we pick you up?” Bellamy’s ringed fingers appeared in my line of sight as he placed them around my forearm, but I heard the way he muttered to himself, the unsure and somewhat resigned tone to his voice.
Wrath must have too. Because he let his body relax, the tension leaving him as he looked over to me. I shook my head, not willing to hear goodbyes. No more. Please, no more.
I am proud to call you mine and to be yours, Asher.
Another arrow flew through the air, Bellamy’s hand moving faster than I could fathom as he caught it just in front of his face. Both of us looked up to see a male in the distance, a large, golden bow in his hands. He stayed for but a moment, and then he was gone, disappearing in a puff of black shadows.
That was when the ground beneath us shook.
Mia was coming.
“Please, do not leave me, Wrath. I love you. I love you so much. You are my family. Please.” I was begging now, the words coming out in a cracked whisper.
Kill them all for me, Strange One.
That voice, still eerie within my mind even when death—his master—knocked upon his door, was like locking the bolt. And still, I watched as his chest began to slow its pace, and his eyes fluttered closed.
And then the soldiers appeared in the distance.
Wisps of black shadows made way for golden armor, which glinted in the distance as the rain fell harder—the thunder louder than before. My fingers tightened on Wrath’s unmoving body, the sound of his heart gone.
I leaned down, letting my forehead rest against his rain-and-blood-soaked side. No, I could not take this. Could not survive this.
“Please, Eternity, if you exist, bring him back to me.”
Padon, help me. Help Wrath. Help your creation.
Silence kissed my cheek, death stroked my hair, and the end greeted me.
“I love you, Wrathy.” My whispered affection breezed past the dalistori’s unhearing ears, and suddenly, my body was vibrating with his namesake. My eyes rose, looking in the distance at the coming army.
“I cannot portal them all on my own, and if we wake them, then they will be in a daze and likely panic. We have to be the ones to fight.” Bellamy’s words were full of nerves, not for the fight, but for my mental state. I swore to myself then that I would not worry him, not show how broken I was, not distract him.
Nodding, I released Wrath, wiping my hand clean before grabbing onto Bellamy and squeezing his in return as he threaded our fingers together.
“Then we fight,” I declared, staring into his blue eyes—into home.
“For Wrath,” he whispered.
“For Luca,” I returned. “For Winona and Pino.”
“For you, Princess,” he proclaimed, leaning in to press his lips to mine. The kiss was a promise—a vow—and though now was not the time to be thinking such things, to be dreaming at all, I saw a flash of a projected image in my mind. Something that made my soul ache and my heart cleave in two.
I watched as Bellamy showed me a vision of him down on one knee, presenting me with a ring. And I mourned all that Wrath would miss.