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She’s good at that.
Choosing a leather armchair close to the south window, I slump down into it. It’s July, but the water is probably still cold from the late season snows and runoff. What I wouldn’t give to not be mired down with the anxiety of impending war, and for once, just have a day to breathe easy. Maybe a day on the lake in the middle of summer to go fishing or grill out or anything but be a hamster on this wheel of training to keep busy and waiting for the sky to fall.
Just one damn day.
Footsteps slowly scale the stairs behind me, and I force myself not to react.
“Rhys,” Aurelia calls softly.
Sighing through my nose, I shift my gaze from the window in acknowledgment but say nothing. Honestly, I’m afraid whatever comes out of my mouth might set her off, and for the first time, she almost sounds sweet.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
Leaning back in my chair, the confusion nearly bowls me over. “For what?”
“For blowing up our room. For making you bleed during my PTSD freak-out. For losing my fucking mind. For being a class-A bitch. Pretty much the entire day.”
Sipping my drink, I nod. “Apology accepted.”
She takes a step back, clearly shocked, and I can’t figure out why. Doesn’t she know I would do anything for her—even forgive a piddly fire?
“That easy?” she asks, her mouth dropping open. “I don’t need to get on my hands and knees and grovel?”
She’s joking, but the mental image of Aurelia crawling naked across a messy bed, flashes across my mind. I almost growl aloud at the thought, my jaw tightening as my eyes go half-mast. Hastily, I look out the window to hide my body’s response to the seemingly inane comment, praying she doesn’t notice my reaction to a simple sentence.
“Nope,” I mutter, proud my voice doesn’t break like a damn adolescent.
She sighs, wringing her hands. “Well. Thanks. I’ll leave you to it,” she murmurs before turning to head back down the stairs.
“Aurelia?” I call as she reaches the third step down.
She pauses, her shoulders tightening. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, too.”
Those words are laced with every bit of regret I’ve stored in my soul. Regret for saying yes when I should have died before I accepted a bond she didn’t want. Remorse for Lucien, for killing him instead of just breaking his neck. Maybe I could have done it different. Maybe I could have saved him.
Maybe then Aurelia wouldn’t be mated to someone she couldn’t stand, bonded for eternity to the man who took everything from her.
She nods and, Fates help me, her bottom lip begins to tremble.
How many times have I made her cry? A thousand? A million?
“I-it’s going to take a little while for me to forgive you. I know you have your side to the story. I know you have things to tell me, and I’ve been unwilling to listen. I’m sorry I can’t give you better than that, but I’m afraid if I forgive you, I’ll have to take the burden of all the guilt I’ve piled on your shoulders. And I can’t bear the weight. I have to blame you, because if I don’t, I have to start blaming me, and I won’t survive the guilt. So, I’m going to have to hate you a little while longer, if you don’t mind,” she finishes her speech on a whisper, her voice barely reaching my ears.
The tears have broken free of her lashes, running in rivulets down her cheeks as she swiftly makes her way back down the stairs.
Apparently, just one day is too much to ask for.
Chapter Ten
AURELIA—1855
They came for me after I sent Lucien on to the Otherside. After Rhys left me alone in that forest. After I called upon my meager knowledge of the funeral rights and sent Lucien to his rest. While I lost the child in my belly and slowly bled more and more lifeblood. I’d wanted to die, but I never wanted this.
Soldiers came, and I fought. I fought so hard, but it wasn’t enough. I was beaten and tortured. Iva loved hurting me, loved it when she drew any measure of blood. Realization dawned as to what she was doing.
She was making Rhys bleed through me, torturing us both for something I’d done. For wanting to leave, for wanting my own life. I was to blame. I would have felt sorry for him if he hadn’t stolen the life I’d created for myself.
