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“Can you tell me about what happened? I’ve heard stories, and my father sees himself as the victim and so does my mom. I can’t get the full truth from either of them, and everyone else just knows rumors or won’t speak the full truth.” I hugged the pillow tighter to my chest. “Why is he so close to his brother? He takes his word above everyone else!” I seethed, anger prickling the magic to my fingertips like liquid fire.
Azia slowly descended onto the sofa, gazing off into the empty fireplace. “The king says he loved your mom, and that she was his everything. They were well matched at the beginning. Ravena was a headstrong leader who challenged him, and he was the emotional, impulsive king who shared her fighting spirit. They would spar, he would teach her to fight.” He let out a breathy sigh. “It wasn’t long until that love became poisoned with jealousy. Bit by bit, he took away her freedom.”
“Why?”
He shook his head, staring at the rug. “Because he was so afraid of losing her that he tried to control everything, and in doing so, pushed her away. He believed she was sleeping with others behind his back, accusing her of planning to leave him. This all happened when she fell pregnant with you.”
I curled my fingers into the covers. “I don’t understand. Why would he think that?”
He glanced at the door, holding his breath for a few seconds before exhaling into a whisper. “He lacked the one thing she had in spades. Self-worth. While he may have inherited the crown, Kalon was always their father's favorite, and sadly, most of the people, too. He spent most of his life believing he wasn’t good enough, but instead of dealing with that, he buried it. That insecurity reared its ugly head once he found Ravena. I think he truly couldn’t believe she loved him for who he was and wanted proof that it was because of his wealth, power, or any reason to push her away.”
My mind whirled, thoughts flitting like gnats as I tried to piece together the dynamic of my parents. “That makes no sense. If he didn’t feel worthy of love or whatever, why push away the person who did love him?”
He gave me a soft, incredulous look as if the answer was so obvious. “That’s what people do when they don’t love themselves. They both reject and crave it. Or, like the king, they want absolute proof that the person loves them, whether through testing or hurting. They can never be sure, and it’s what pushed Ravena away. He got the opposite of what he wanted.” He pressed his fingertips against his shoulders, massaging out a knot. “He looks for happiness in everyone else but needs to learn to love himself, not search for it outwardly.”
I scoffed. “He seems to love himself plenty.”
He gave me a knowing smile. “He would make it seem that way, yes. But deep down, he doesn’t feel adequate. I’ve spent enough time with him to know, and that’s why he was so wounded when you said what you did.” He put a finger in the air to pause me before I could argue. “It’s not up to you to fix him or tread around him because of his issues, so don’t worry about that. However, I will say this. You threatened to kill him, and I cannot agree with that.”
I shuffled uncomfortably. “The gods wanted me to.”
“Doyouwant to?”
I thought about Draven, and all the guild members back home who were so ruthlessly slaughtered. Murder had become a regular part of my life, and I didn’t like it. “No, I don’t want to kill anyone.”
He smiled. “Good.”
“You don’t believe in killing, and yet you live in a kingdom filled with murderers.”
He shrugged. “If I cannot help the worst of the most damned souls, then I am not a true lightworker. I also have my personal freedoms here, as I said before.”
I arched a brow. “You want to help, too?”
“Naturally. I refuse to believe we should rid ourselves of thousands of people just because they were cursed by a goddess, and then send them to the underworld to suffer for an eternity. I do not like when the scales are tipped unfairly, and like you, I see it as my purpose to find a way to make it better. There are many vampires who do not kill for fun, and feed only when necessary.”
“That’s why you’re helping me,” I realized. “It’s not just because Sargon wants you to.”
Pressing his hands against the cushions of the sofa, he groaned as he stood, cracking his neck as he did. “Bad night’s sleep,” he said, then rubbed his forehead. “Please rest, I will see you when you’re ready.”
I watched him leave, closing the door gently behind him. He didn’t say anything to my statement, but it had to be true. He believed in me, because we want the same thing.
I lay back on the blankets, closing my eyes for a minute. Kalon was always respected, so that made sense given his superiority complex. That’s why my father always took his word over everyone else’s. He was constantly seeking his brothers’ approval, thinking if Kalon could approve of him, he was somehow worthy.
For the first time, I didn’t hate my father. Ipitiedhim. He was far more broken than I knew, and it didn’t excuse a thing he did, but it did help release the rage I’d held inside for so long. Now I could direct it all where it needed to go. To Kalon. To the bastard brother of the king who truly deserved the damnation which awaited him.
Hell was built for a reason, and I planned on ensuring Kalon got to see it very soon.
***
The next morning, I awoke in Sebastian’s arms again, after dreams of distorted childhood memories of Draven and I were pieced together in some hazy sequence. The second I opened my eyes, I wished I hadn’t. I wanted to travel back, between the pages of old chapters of my life, and live there. Instead, I was here, trapped in a time when Draven was dead.
Anger was the only thing more potent than the grief I felt, and I carved and sharpened the edges of it, turning it into a weapon. My magic thrummed around my center, begging to be released. Visceral rage shot energy into me, pulling me out from the depths of depression I’d fallen captive to.
I pushed Sebastian’s arms off me, remembering what Gwen had told me about their little rendezvous in the dungeons before his execution. I’d forgotten, with Draven’s death wiping my mind of anything but that. Now, anger was all I could feel, see, and taste. Sebastian had sold me out in the dungeons to try and gain his freedom and mortality,
Sebastian rolled over as I climbed out of bed, then opened his eyes. “Morning, love.”
“Don’tmorningme.”
