I slidmy hand inside my pocket, leaning back against my car as Anya escorted Calia and her family past the wrought iron gates into the cemetery. The sun was high in the sky, casting the ground in sparkling rays of golden light. It was impossible not to notice the differences between today and the last time I was here.
Vivian clung to her husband’s arm with a bruising grip, the mourning veil she donned hiding her face from view. From what Calia had told me the night before, her aunt had barely gotten out of bed since the news of Brielle’s death. She refused to eat or drink, and slept the hours away in a elixir-induced stupor.
Castor hardly fared better, his haggard features seeming to show his age. We had not spoken outside of the mumbled gratitudes he spared me this morning before he ducked into the back of a town car after Vivian.
As for Xavier, he had been the unfortunate soul to stumble across his sister’s mutilated corpse as he and his father stormed the underground shelter with the Vail in tow in an effort to stop Leonora.
I did not know much about him, having only seen him once before at Calia’s funeral. Yet, he reminded me of his father, saying very little, and never volunteering any information about himself outside of direct questions. As they walked across the hallowed grounds, he followed behind them dutifully scanning the area for potential dangers.
It had been nearly one week since Brielle’s death. The family elected to keep the service intimate, only allowing immediate family and Anya to attend. Even Jasper and Rowena stayed behind, giving the family space to mourn away from spectators.
Calia was accustomed to hiding her grief, forcing a smile for everyone else’s benefit. It was only in the rare quiet moments she was afforded that grief caught up to her. She sought solacein the darkness, her cries reaching me in the silence of night, floating down the halls of the manor like a ghostly echo.
“It never gets easier,” Elios said with a sigh, appearing beside me as he had so many weeks ago. He kept his gaze trained on the Darrow’s silhouettes as they crested the hill where Brielle’s body had been laid to rest. “I have seen many mortals perish in my lifetime, but there are some deaths that will forever linger in the back of your mind.”
Though I had not known her long, I had known Brielle well enough that I knew Elios spoke true. She was a rare soul—the kind that used her sometimes overwhelmingly positive disposition to thaw even the coldest hearts. She and Calia had that in common.
Though my world had been reborn, bathed in light I never thought possible, the world already seemed darker without Brielle Darrow.
The weeksthat followed were a blur.
Though my healing had been accelerated by Elios, my injuries were far too severe to risk any additional damage. I was forced to rely on a diet consisting primarily of blood, which Calia offered up willingly.
I refused to drink directly from her, knowing my body was already at the limits of self-control after going through such significant loss. Sloane helped by drawing the necessary sustenance from Calia in Anya’s cottage. It was far enough away from me to eliminate the possibility of my inadvertently catching her scent.
Either Jasper or Elios sat in the room with me, ensuring I remained in control and did not fall into a state of bloodlust. I hardly heard them once the haze set in, falling into a slumber of fitful dreams. I hated knowing how dangerous it was for Calia to be near me at present, but I remained steadfast in my decision to keep her at a safe distance.
Elios kept me apprised of Ballard’s condition, explaining how one of the cells below the house had been transformed into a small medical wing to house him. Castor had alerted the Vail of Ballard’s treachery, and guards watched him around the clock.
I did not believe him to be a danger now that Leonora was dead. However, I had not considered him capable of treachery in the first place.
Sloane had not been to visit Ballard since arriving back at the manor, choosing to throw her full attention into my rehabilitation, much to my dismay. She was insufferable, barking orders and running me through intense physical therapy to build back the strength in the muscles that had been shredded under Leonora’s physical barbs.
Jasper and Rowena followed her around like shadows, never letting her out of their sight for a moment. I was not sure of the dynamic of their relationship, often finding the three of them trading longing looks when they thought no one was looking. It was the highlight of my recovery—seeing as I had nothing better to do than meddle in conspiracies with Calia in my free time.
There were many days Sloane would walk into my room, telling me she was done with hovering, territorial vampyres and that she was leaving after she was done with our session.
She always came back.
A meeting was scheduled with the council, alerting them to the extent of Leonora and Renwick’s treachery, including Ballard’s role in their plans. He was stripped of his position as an elder and banned from his coven. Once he regained strength,he was moved to a criminal facility, where he would spend the remainder of his days.
The meeting also offered an opportunity to show the council that Calia was, in fact, alive. However, we kept the knowledge of her heritage a secret as per Elios’ wishes. He insisted the world was not ready for the knowledge of the gods’ presence and did not know how mortals would react, knowing Calia carried their blood in her veins.
To his credit, Lucius kept his face neutral when Calia presented herself. It was his heart that gave his panic away, and I did not know if it was because he had always known the truth of her parentage or something else.
He had fled the chamber as soon as the meeting was dismissed.
In keeping with tradition, I accepted my uncle’s vacated position on the council, knowing it would make my father proud. I did not have his experience; however, I had seen enough prejudice to know our world could not survive separation.
The people of Kallistos deserved better than that.
There was a knock on the door, and Calia came in a moment later. I leaned back in my chair, watching as she slowly walked over with a seductive smile stretched across her face. “Hello, husband,” she purred, dropping a lingering kiss on my lips. “I missed you in bed last night.”
I still had my fair share of night terrors, often brought about by the most insignificant things. Yesterday, I had been walking past my father’s old study, which was being restored to its former glory. Though it looked nearly identical to its predecessor, I glanced at the empty shelves, realizing they would never be filled with the artifacts my father wanted to pass down to me.
I still struggled to articulate my feelings, often finding myself inundated with shame. Though it’d been nearly two months tothe day since she died, I still heard Leonora’s voice as clear as a bell when my emotions were heightened.
My wife never ran away from the anxieties that plagued my mind, allowing me to divulge my despair and trauma without balking. Knowing her steadfast love allowed me to fully open my heart to her when I had not done so before. There were no looming repercussions, and for the first time, I was not consumed by the fear of being abandoned.
