Chapter Twelve Veritas
"True character is revealed in the choices a human being makes"
She slept deeper than she had in months.
Not a single nightmare chased her from the darkness.
When she opened her eyes, and knew immediately where she was.
She'd woken up here before--recently. But this time, Lennox was asleep on the chair beside her.
His large body too big to fit comfortably on the small piece of furniture.
His long legs sprawled out towards her and his normally slicked back hair was ruffled, like he had been dragging his hands through it all night.
His green eyes snapped open, to reveal dark purple bags underneath them.
"You're awake." He said hoarsely, as if he had been yelling. He sat up in the chair, and stretched upwards. His back cracked a few times before he leaned forwards again, resting his elbows on his knees. "How are you feeling?"
She didn't know how to answer that question.
Everything had happened so quickly, the fight—all the blood and the concussion.
She gingerly touched her head to feel the bandages and massive goose egg, hissing at the contact.
Her other arm was in a sling again, and she was wrapped so tight in gauze that she had a hard time breathing.
Nope, that was the two broke ribs she had received.
She splayed her hand over her lower stomach, where her knife had been.
Her own fucking blade had almost killed her.
Huge rookie mistake, that almost cost her life.
"I'll be okay." She managed to say, through the turmoil in her head and the pain that ravaged her body.
"Of course you will." He huffed, "but how are you feeling?"
"Alive." It was the only answer she could give him as her head pounded.
"Maybe you should get some more sleep." He went to rise, to leave her after watching over.
"How long have I been asleep?" She asked.
"A few days." He ran his hands through his hair.
"You had two broke ribs that pierced your lungs. The knife in your stomach perforated your liver. I am guessing that the lack of sleep and food made your body break down. It's why you're not healing as fast as you should."
After a moment of a silence, Lennox sat back down in his chair and gave her a stern, dark look.
"Who did this to you?" It was possibly the first true command he had given her--the tone unmistakable and unyielding.
"I don't know his name." She lied, and he shook his head.
"Not that, Love. I'm talking about the old scar on your stomach."
She turned away from him, biting her lip. She had thousands of scars, but he had seen those and known. "Do you expect me to remember every single scar I have earned over the years." She lied.
He grabbed her chin, pulling her face to look at him.
"These aren't normal scars, Love. You forget that I've known my fair share of whores. I know what those scars mean. So let me repeat myself, Who the fuck did that to you?"
The room, the building itself, seemed to shake with silent fury.
He dropped his hand, but she didn't look away from him.
Her hand absentmindedly stroked her stomach.
Fuck It.
She was too tired to fight him on this anyway, and it was clear he wasn't going to relent.
"I did!" She snapped, but it held no bite.
His face morphed into shock. "Right before I was to be sold off, when I was still a practicing courtesan. I mutilated myself because I knew that no one would want damaged goods. Czandra helped by giving me the knife and showing me how to do it. I couldn't afford a proper doctor,
but I was a fast healer."
She looked away from Lennox as tears began to fall.
"I knew it was my only way out of becoming some pompous lord's caged bird. So I cut myself open, and took out my womb."
She would never have children. She had defaced herself only to save herself.
Courtesans are meant to be silent, perfect obedient little women.
Some get sold for breeding, for whatever it is that their master wants them for.
But she made herself worthless, and right before her action.
"Czandra pretended to be furious with me, even if she knew what I had done, before I had done it. She had to, or it would be her head next to mine. She managed to convince the king to throw me into the fighting pits. If I survived, then he had a new gladiator to boast about, and if I died,
then he would be right where he was before, with one less whore."
She found the courage to look up at Lennox, and the fury that had slipped from his face.
"I did well in the pits, and soon I was sent to the Sicarii and given a second chance."
"A second chance at what?" He asked tentatively, he had never used such caring, careful tone with her before. She looked away again, her head pounding, her memories clouded in a haze of smoke.
"At life." She quickly brushed her tears away with the back of her hand.
Suddenly, the memory of last night unfurling like the blanket of fog had been pulled away. Of Lennox losing his mind, his dark wings splayed out behind him as he shook her awake. Of how the fear in his eyes was real, and how he had used her name—her real name—as his fear took hold of him.
Not, Love.
Not, Adan.
Her true name--Inara--a name she had not heard aloud in over twenty years.
He read all the recognition in her eyes, and did not balk.
If she wasn't already sitting, she would have fallen down in shock.
The only living being who knew who she truly was, was Czandra.
Being a vampire, she could see her memories when she drank someone's blood.
The night that she found Adan, alone in that forest, she had seen who she truly was.
She had promised to keep her secret, and protect her or for as along as she could.
Adan's eyes widened as she stared at Lennox. "How?" She breathed. She would kill Czandra for this betrayal.
"I knew the first day we met." He said softly, tapping his temple, but what kind of power would allow such a thing?
"Stay out of my head." She whirled on him.
"I can't help it if you're so easy to read." He smirked, but the smile slipped again. "Even if you are reasonably strong at holding up your mental walls."
He had put it all together, who she was—what she was. He could have handed her over to the king and asked for anything his heart desired. Then she would truly be a bird in a cage. "If you know who I am, then you know what I am." She needed to hear him say. She needed to know how fucked she was.
"The only surviving member of your House. Your father was Roland Fuere. Your mother was, Ariadne. Your great-grandmother was the first dragon to marry into a phoenix line. Agnisus Nazyr."
She could do nothing to hide the shock on her face.
She had buried her truth so long that she no longer felt like Inara Fuere.
"So I'm your prisoner then, planning on depositing me at the king's feet to garner your reward." She was so, so tired, her head fell back into the pillow in defeat. She knew her luck would run out sooner than later.
His laugh made her pause, the sound sung to something deep in her bones.
"I would rather die." He smirked, and winked at her when she finally locked eyes with him.
"Since I know who you are, it's only fair that I share with you who I am as well. Honestly, I am a little put-out that you didn't figure it out. I thought you would have by now."
The grin was nothing but a true smile, as he stood.
His wings splayed out behind him in a fury of shadows and smoke.
"Look familiar?" He asked with a roguish grin.
He plucked a feather free and laid it on her hands, still resting over her stomach.
It took Adan all of a minute to finally let the realization hit her.
"You." She seethed, she went to lung for him but barked out a hiss of pain had her clutching her stomach.
"You're the captain--you're Jax." She was going to fucking kill him.
"You locked me inside that ship and set it on fire!"
She yelled, and he winced--actually winced.
"To be fair, I knew what you were then. I knew you would survive the fire. I just wanted to see if you would actually use your power to save yourself."
"You fucking arrogant, controlling prick!"
"Yes, but you did save yourself." He put his wings away, and sat back down on the chair, folding his long legs over one another. "I was worried you buried that power of yours so far down that it no longer existed."
"When I get out of this bed, I'm going to—" Her face burned with rage.
"I should probably also mention that I am the leader of the Grimms."
Her jaw dropped in shock. He was the leader of the rebels that she had been looking for—that she admired--she was going to be sick.
"So now you know that I will not be bringing you to the king. Seeing as, you could damn me as much as I could damn you."
Lennox uncrossed and crossed his legs again, the movement far too graceful for a man of his size.
"If you knew who I was, why didn't you just tell me all this before?"
He shrugged, "I knew who and what you were, but I didn't know where your loyalties lied. I couldn't tell if you were truly loyal to the king or if it was just an act. I knew for sure when you saved that girl's life. I knew then that I could trust you with this—with my life."
He swallowed hard, his throat bobbed as he stared at Adan.
"I guess I won't be returning to the castle anytime soon." Seeing as, she needed Lennox's head as payment for entry.
"No." He said softly, as if that hurt any less.
The castle wasn't her home, she didn't even remember what it felt like to have a home.
Her room in the castle had come close, but it wasn't the same.
It was just another gilded cage, filled with luxuries and books and things.
All that were replaceable and inconsequential.
Home was the last time she felt safe when her parents were alive.
Even that memory had been tainted with their blood.
It had been a very, very long time since Adan felt safe.
"So I guess this means that you won't be buying me my freedom." She wasn't angry, she wasn't anything but numb. The onslaught of information was enough to make her head spin.
"I doubt the king would be reasonable at this point..."
Has he ever? She thought, and Lennox grinned.
"Get some more rest." He rose slowly from the chair, and again stretched to crack his back. As if he had been sitting in that chair for a good long while. "We can figure out the rest later."
Adan wasn't sure if she could fall back asleep, by the way her mind raced. His back was to her when he reached for the door.
"Lennox." He stilled, turning to face her, his hand still on the knob. "Thank you." She offered him a small bridge between them.
"Please, Love, call me Nox." Not a command--but a small offering. He gave her a small smile before disappearing behind the door, closing it with a quiet snap.
Exhaustion ripped at her, and she found sleep faster than she expected.