Unable to resist, I let my fingers wander over the roses inked along her spine. I’d seen the black rose on her arm a thousand times, but these three red roses were something else. Detailed, layered, almost alive. Three flowers, each larger than the last, their stems weaving together like they were protecting her. I wondered why she chose them.
Born in June—rose birth flower. Maybe that was it. Perhaps her mother had a fondness for roses, just like mine adored Alpine Bellflowers.
Sometimes I question why I ink reminders of everything I’ve lost into my body. The permanence never made the grief any easier.
She stirred under my hand, stretching. “Mmm, that feels nice,” she mumbled, half-asleep.
“Yeah?” I skimmed my fingers down once more. “Hey, why the three red roses?”
Her body stiffened. Barely, but enough that I felt it.
“I got them for my family,” she whispered. “Just like I assume you got the Alpine for your mom. Her name—woven into the stem. Right?”
Always redirecting. Always giving just a sliver of herself before withdrawing again.
“Yes. I got it for her,” I said quietly. “My brothers got theirs after she was murdered. They didn’t tell me for a long time. When Codrin finally did, he showed me his, and I-I needed something too. Her favorite flower made sense. So I got the same thing.” I paused. “Mine’s better, obviously.”
She pressed her face further into the pillow. “You… went alone, Cezar?”
I’d honestly never thought about how depressing that sounded. It was just… life.
“Yeah,” I said. “But it’s fine. We all have something for her.”
I tugged her closer, squeezing until she squeaked and tried to squirm away.
“Whoever did yours, though—damn. They’re beautiful,” I grumbled, refusing to let her go.
“You’re literally going to crush me,” she groaned, taking a dramatic inhale when I finally loosened my grip.
“Maybe.” I smirked, earning a humorous eye roll from her.
“I figured the Alpine was for your mom, but what about that little red rose? I like it, one single line to form the flower.”
My whole body locked. I buried my face in her hair and held on. “It’s not what you think,” I confessed. “Just me trying to repent for my sins.”
I couldn’t bear for her to know the depths of the darkness within me. Perhaps in the afterlife, I would find the courage to tell her about the blood on my family’s hands. Until then, it remained a burden I carried alone.
Chapter 57
ADELINA
Cezar got up to make lunch, and I was internally losing my goddamn mind. I felt like we were in a relationship, like he was mine and I was his. He was suffocating me, I was drowning in him, and the problem was I didn’t mind that I couldn’t fucking breathe.
Everything seemed like it was falling apart in the best way. I couldn’t give up what I had worked for, but I didn’t want to give him up either.
Fuck, what am I going to do?
It had been a long time since I talked to Stefan—the man who raised me after my parents were murdered. Doubt gnawed at me, and I needed answers. Needed clarity about where I came from, who I was, what I was turning into.
The phone rang forever. It felt like falling through a black hole until a distant voice finally surfaced with a quiet hello.
Stefan always knew what I was up to, even though I barely talked to him. He kept tabs, whether he said it outright or not.
“Hi…” I said, not meaning to be quiet; it was just hard to breathe.
“Lina, it’s been a while. How have you been?”
“I am sure you have heard.”
