I fell in love.
I fell in love with a woman who could never love me back, not the way I wanted it. Yet, I pushed, knowing full well she would never choose me of her own accord. It was in her eyes—the way those hazel jewels darkened when she looked at me. They did not convey love or lust. It was wariness. She was skeptical of love and of a future until she met Matthew.
Even through the cloudy haze of magic, the love she felt for him was unmistakable. Perhaps that drove the demon inside of me. The jealousy and rage I had felt clouded every choice I made. Every moment I wanted with her was tainted by the obsession rolling through my veins.
And now, I’d become the villain in her story.
I did not blame her. I hated myself far more than I hated her for not loving me. Even before the coercion, she was a sickness in my veins. I could not cure myself of her. Yet, moments of tenderness over the years had given that sick part of me hope.
Until I realized loving me would be little more than a means to an end for her.
It was in her eyes the night of the ball, the night she had let me claim her. It did not stop me from reveling in her glory, nor did it stop my mind from running away with all the possibilities of what we could be if she just gave in.
If she had not met Matthew, maybe our journey would’ve been different, but as I looked around my cell, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
She was never mine to keep.
Chapter3
Matthew
“You fuckingasshole!” Eva screamed at me before launching yet another vase at my head. I ducked, barely missing the object as it crashed into the wall behind me. Water and glass slid down the side of the cottage, hitting the floor near my feet, along with the burnt remains of the flowers I’d picked for her yesterday.
Since we’d arrived at the small cottage by the sea, her mood had become a violent tempest. The waves crashed against the cliffs of Morheim, matching the unpredictability of her power. It was equally beautiful and terrifying how in sync our surroundings and Eva had become. They were both mourning, their grief near tangible in the air.
The cliffs were barren; a jagged, rocky terrain with the only sign of life being the mountain goats that had steered clear of us since we’d arrived. Unlike other parts of Aethion, Morheim’s climate hardly changed. There was a permanent chill in the air, one that seeped into your bones and was near-impossible to get rid of for those that were not born in these lands. Yesterday, Eva refused to come inside. The wind whipped at her hair, tangling it so badly I could hardly get the knots out. But she hadn’t moved, her eyes cold and unseeing as she looked out on the raging waters below.
From the moment we landed twelve days ago, she had been like this. Her body had erupted into a swirling mass of colors and heat. I was knocked away by a burst of air as she was consumed by the flames. I could do nothing but watch, separated and trapped by an impenetrable shield I could not break. What little vegetation surrounded her had turned to ash beneath our feet. The overwhelming scent of smoke burning my nostrils until the fire slowly died away, leaving Eva bared to the world. She’d curled up in a ball, her body shaking uncontrollably given the power it’d expelled.
She hadn’t stirred as I lifted her into my arms, carrying her into the small cottage and submerging her in a tub of cool water to bring down her body temperature. As she slid into the bath, the water let out a violent hiss. Steam rose in thick waves, small bubbles forming as it began to boil with her inside. She was not fazed, her own body protecting itself from the immense heat.
I muttered a small prayer to the gods at her insentient state. Erina’s blood still coated her hands, the thick crimson stain turning the water red. I hadn’t wanted her to see it, to realize what was left behind of the horror she’d witnessed. I took care in cleaning her, scrubbing beneath her nails and removing any trace of blood from her skin. She hadn’t balked, not even spared me a glance, as I poured fresh water on her head and slowly washed her hair. Her eyes continued to stare into the empty space, completely devoid of any and all emotion.
She didn’t stir once.
As I laid her down on the bed, Eva had simply turned away from me and curled in on herself. We had no food. I would need to go out to hunt and forage, but I couldn’t leave her—not yet. I was bound to her, unable to move from her side. So, I’d laid down beside her, trying carefully not to disturb her, but to let her know I was there.
My head throbbed with the amount of power I’d displayed—more than I had used in decades, perhaps even since the war. I knew from the beginning that going up against my father would require everything I had. He was right when he’d said he had centuries of experience on me, but he had also ensured I’d been taught by his best men. By the time I was fifty, I was able to come out victorious against any opponent he’d pitted me against. At times, he sparred with me himself. Those had always been reminders that no matter how good I was, he was better. He’d beat me until I could no longer walk, often having his men drag me back to my room and forbidding my mother from sending a healer to my chambers.
The saving grace in the throne room had been that he didn’t have access to the full depth of his powers while in Orion’s body. If he were ever reunited with his own, it would likely lead to our demise. I only hoped that a century of disuse would cause a lapse in power large enough that I could strike first.
And then there was the issue of Erina’s death at Damien’s hands. My father knew what he was doing by forcing Damien to kill Eva’s sister before drawing the entity out of him. He left the boy to face the consequences of his actions, even if they weren’t of his own free will. He knew Eva would never be able to look past that; she would always see a monster who took someone she loved from her.
Eva’s power had grown at an unprecedented rate. When we had been reunited, I assumed the first surge was nothing more than her body being overwhelmed at the return of her powers; they had flooded her system so quickly they couldn’t be processed. But as I looked into her eyes in the throne room as she’d pinned my father against the wall—the flicker of flames and promise of revenge flaring as they waited to be unleashed—I knew this was something different. I panicked as Damien pleaded with her, Erina’s blood still coating his hands. She’d gone wholly still, lethal rage thrumming beneath her skin. I felt it as I’d wrapped my arms around her and shadow-walked here.
But now, twelve days had passed, and there was no sign of her rage diminishing. She’d hardly spoken to me. The only words uttered were those asking to be brought back to Helia. The amount of power still within her was staggering. I could feel her restraint as it simmered beneath her skin.
Eva stood before me, panting and eyes wild. It appeared she was losing the ability to contain her power, her iron fist releasing the first emotion at the surface. I would gladly take her rage; it told me she was still somewhere inside and primed to fight. These past few days of silence had been unbearable. She was merely a shell of the woman I knew, and though I understood the pain behind it, I couldn’t stop my heart from breaking for her.
Shaking my head, I kicked the glass aside and took a step toward her. She immediately backed up. “I want to go back, Matthew.”
I raised my hands in surrender. “You know it isn’t that simple, Princess. I want us to go back, more than anything, but we need to work a few things out before we go and–”
Another object came crashing at my head as I twisted to the side, letting the debris collect around me.
“Do you think I do not know that? That I don’t know my power is in shambles and I cannot control myself? I know it is not possible, but hekilledher, Matthew.” She stormed toward me, her hazel eyes on fire. Her fists pounded into my chest, and I relished the sting. I would take every bit of anger she would give me, if only to give her an outlet for those unrelenting emotions. “He.Killed.Her.” Her voice was strained, small sobs escaping before she could stifle them. “And I don’t care if he wasn’t in his right mind when he did it. He took her from me. How am I supposed to move past that like it isn’t destroying me?”
“Darling,” I said, my thumbs swiping under her eyes to catch her tears. “It was Lachlan who took her away from you. Not Damien. And while I don’t dare diminish your rage towards him, because you deserve to seek revenge for that pain after everything they’ve done to you, you also know he was under Lachlan’s control.”
