Chapter 45 #4
He rolls his eyes, flopping back dramatically. “Also, healer’s training is actual torture. Cassyr wakes me up at six a.m. Six. That’s not a time people should be conscious. My first shift, was twenty-three hours long, Daisy.”
“Funny,” I say dryly. “He says you’re always late.”
He gasps loudly. “That is slander.”
We lapse into comfortable silence for a moment. It feels… normal. Nice, even.
Then Ezra glances at me, his expression softening. “You okay?”
I hesitate, then nod slowly. “I… I haven’t explained The Void to you properly yet, have I?”
Ezra’s expression turns serious as he sits up. “No, you haven’t. What’s that?”
I draw in a breath. “There’s something inside Korithax. Something ancient. It followed him back when he came back from death.” My voice drops. “It feeds on pain. Fear. Violence. It wants control.”
Ezra swallows. “That’s why he lost it when I showed up.”
“Yes,” I say quietly. “To him, you weren’t just a surprise. You were a threat. The Void screamed it at him. It twists what he sees, what he feels. And he has to fight it constantly.”
Ezra leans forwards, propping his elbows on his knees. “And that’s why he nearly killed me and Lucifer?”
I nod. “He was terrified. Not of you. Of himself. In his head, everything is a danger.”
Ezra exhales slowly. “And he’s managing it?”
“Kinda. For now,” I say honestly. “He didn’t spiral. He didn’t shut down. He’s choosing restraint and control. But it scares me, Ez. Because I don’t know how long anyone can keep doing that without breaking. He vanishes for hours at a time and returns bloodied and drained.”
Ezra is quiet for a long moment. Then he nods once. “I’d be more worried if he wasn’t scared.”
I look at him, my brows furrowed in confusion.
“If he didn’t care about losing control,” Ezra continues softly, “that would mean the thing inside him was winning. Fear means he’s still in there, fighting.”
That lands in my chest heavier than I expected. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Maybe I need to start telling myself that, too.”
Before he can say more, there’s a knock at the door, and we both pause.
I frown. “Were you expecting anyone?”
Ezra’s face tightens just slightly. “Can’t say I have many friends here, Daze.”
He slips off the bed and moves towards the door, opening it cautiously. I lean sideways, peering around him to see who it is. Cassyr stands in the doorway. He’s still in his healer’s robes, hair tied back with an unreadable expression on his face. His gaze flicks past Ezra and lands on me.
”Oh—” He straightens immediately. “I didn’t realise you’d have company.” He bows his head at me. “Your Highness.”
Gods, I still hate being addressed as that. “Please,” I say gently with one of those awkward white people smiles. “Call me Daisy.”
He nods once, clearly uncomfortable, then clears his throat. “Anyway,” he says, turning back to Ezra and holding something out. “I brought you these.”
Ezra blinks, taking the folded black healer’s robes. “What—”
“Yours were too big,” Cassyr says flatly. “And I thought these might be more your… style.”
Ezra unfolds them—and then stills, a soft squeak of excitement coming from him. He’s standing at a slight angle which lets me see what has him so giddy. The inside lining is a soft pink, subtle, and slightly sparkly.
He looks up slowly. “You… got these custom made?”
Cassyr shrugs like it’s nothing. “I noticed you like sparkly shit. And by day two, you clearly didn’t have the energy to put any on. So now you always have some.”
I hide my grin behind my hand as Ezra stares at him speechless.
Cassyr shifts, clearly uncomfortable. “Anyway, I’ll see you at six a.m. Don’t be late.”
“Am I ever?” Ezra asks sarcastically.
Cassyr snorts. “Yes.”
He turns to leave, pausing his steps just long enough to add, “And I’ve made a nice little concoction for myself for when your yapping inevitably gives me a headache.” Then, without looking back— “See you tomorrow, sparkles.”
The door closes softly. Ezra stares at it for a second, then glances down at the robes. He turns his head slowly to look at me. “… I think I’m in danger,” he whispers.
I grin at him, bouncing up and down where I’m sat, an excited little squeal slipping out before I can stop myself. “Oh. My. God. You have a freaking crush on Cassyr.”
His face turns violently red as he yanks the robes up, hiding himself in the fabric. “Can you blame me?” he mutters. “Look at him.”
I snort. “I mean… fair. But I also think he might have a crush on you, Ez.”
He quickly pulls the fabric away from his face, his head snapping up so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash. “What? No—absolutely not.”
I raise a brow, the smile on my face making my cheeks hurt. “He had custom sparkly healer robes made for you. With a pink lining. And he gave you a nickname.”
Ezra opens his mouth, closes it, then groans and drops his face back into the robes. “… Okay, when you say it like that, it sounds suspicious.”
I laugh, walking over to him and bumping my shoulder into his. “Congratulations. You’ve been soft courted by a grumpy demon healer.”
“End me,” he mumbles. “But like… gently.”