Luella told Bastian this. "It’s not your fault. It is his," she hissed. "Graves… But no. I cannot even call him that anymore. Can I? He is not Graves."
He is the same male you have always known,Bastian said.
"That is just it, Bastian. I don’t know him. Not truly. I don’t think I know any of you. You say you wish to make me a… queen." Luella could barely say the word. Didn’t even want to linger on the implications ofhowthey would make her such. "And yet, you will not share anything with me. It is like I am still your prisoner, living at the behest of your whims." She swallowed, mind in a million places at once. It was so easy to speak like this, with no one to see her. "I know nothing; therefore, I must be nothing."
Bastian’s presence in her mind swelled, consuming her in a soft sort of domination. Sensual and silken, he impressed himself upon each corner of her mind, chasing away the spiderwebs that clung to the corners, spun with self-hatred.
You are not nothing, Luella Eritrais,Bastian said into her very being.You are everything. If the others gave themselves only a moment to think on it, they would realize how true that is. They would realize that they have spent so long chasing after the one written in the prophecy that they have missed what has been right before them.
She thought she knew what he meant, but she whispered, "What?"
You.
They both grew quiet after that.
But Luella’s thoughts never did quieten.
She thought of how Bastian had said her name. Then, she spiraled. Was that… even her name?
It doesn’t matter,Bastian whispered.To me, you will always be Luella Eritrais. It is the name of the heirus Princess I first stole into the dreams of.
But what if it’s not mine?A thought so treacherous she could not bear to speak it aloud.
Make it yours,he murmured.
A wet sob crept up her throat, filling the room. She was so tired.
She scrubbed her hands over her eyes, black dots sparkling from how fiercely she rubbed them. And she decided to keep them there, her hands resting over her eyes, covering her, shrouding her in the dark—a place so familiar to her, yet not.
"You make it sound so easy," she said, into the dark.
Because it is. If you want to be angry, be angry at the Tenebrae. He took your name, so reclaim it.
Bastian had a way with his speech, ever the Advisor. This was not the first time she had noticed it, however. How he saw her clearly. She, a rippling lake, murky and dark. And he, the sunlight that chased away the shadows. He saw her fears, her worries, and plucked them from her mind like exploding stars. In his hands, the death rattle of a supernova receded, and they glowed anew.
The vampire built her up with words wrapped in silk, whispered directly into her very being.
She turned onto her side, bundling her hands underneath her chin as she pulled her knees to her chest. The bed was comfortable and smelled faintly of the ocean. It made her wonder how vivid the islands would be if traces of them clung to this dusty cave. "Thank you, Bastian."
You’re welcome, pet.He settled deeper into her mind, no longer sensing her resistance.You should rest. Sleep.
"I don’t think I can. I worry—" A yawn threatened to crack her jaw, betraying her.
Forget your worries for now. Sleep.Bastian brushed against her mind, sending shivers down her spine and out through her wings.Do you want me to help you?
"How?" she mumbled.
You know how.
She thought on it, deciding that he had earned her trust in this. "Okay. Send me to sleep, but Bastian?"
He hummed.
"Let my dreams be good. Please?"
For you, only the best of dreams, he answered.
Her body grew drowsy in an instant, her lids fluttering shut as a relaxed sigh slipped from her parted lips. She sent him one last clear thought, ringing like a bell.I’ll leave the door open.
