“Shit. Fuck!” The prince looked at me, his stare burning. Yes, he would leave now with so many truths left unspoken. Once again, the universe was creating a fissure between us, and perhaps that was the biggest sign of what would come.
“Go. I understand. Write when you can, but focus on what is important.” I silently prayed to Eternity that I looked somewhat believable in my conviction.
Appearing unconvinced, Bellamy sighed. Then, as if not able to help himself, he closed the distance between us, both of his hands releasing his towel to cup my face. Our lips met, and the world ceased to exist. There was only Bellamy and I and this moment. A kiss like this could kill, could starve, could heal. It was charging, like a storm building up in the sky, the energy so all-encompassing that everyone in the area could surely feel it. My arms wrapped around his neck, red dress still in one hand while the other gripped the black mess of waves at the back of his head.
When the shadows enveloped him, pulling him away from me, Bellamy muttered one final sentiment.
“I love you.”
And then he was gone, only Wrath and I remaining.
Bellamy never said goodbye, and I wondered if that was because he feared what it implied. An ending of sorts. A confirmed period at the close of a sentence. Something final. In my chest, my magic stirred, as did my growing panic. Stuffing down those feelings, I did everything I could to remind myself of the decades of training I had been given on proper expressions. I was not a youngling. I could manage my emotions.
With a deep breath, I dropped the red dress and walked over to the bed. A floor-length golden gown was there, the silk thin. The designer had gathered parts, creating small folds on each side of the waist. The small straps, nearly as narrow as a needle, were black, as were the silk slippers beside it.
My heart picked up, a bit of sweat beading on my neck despite the way my body shook from the cold. Bellamy’s black flames still roared in the fireplace from when he had lit it upon my waking, but they felt more like ice than fire—the strange searing heat like a cold burn as it kissed my skin.
The dress was beautiful, though not as incredible as what Pino had crafted time and time again. But could I wear it? What would it feel like for anything gold to grace my skin? If I did, was that conceding to Mia and Xavier? Would they metaphorically win?
Subconsciously, I started chewing on my lip, tearing at the skin there and likely making my mouth look horrid. Mia had always hated that. She said beauty was a female’s strongest weapon and that, when cultivated, one could conquer with their looks alone. My lips took from my beauty, stole it away and left me with a face empty save for the imperfections once hidden beneath.
In the last couple of months, I had sealed away all that was taught to me in my two hundred years of being a ward to Mia and Xavier. It felt easy to gild those ideas, beliefs, and rules, imprisoning them. But sometimes, I felt that gold seeping into other parts of my mind.
It was Wrath’s bored expression and confused eyes as he jumped onto the bed and got comfortable that made me realize I already knew the answer to my own question.
Yes, I cared. Even if it was stupid, even if it was dramatic, I cared about what putting gold on my body meant. And I could not do it.
Shaking my head, I backed away from the dress.
“Is this some sort of test? What am I expected to do? Wear that?” When I hit the wall, I felt the tremors begin, once more looking far weaker than I wanted. Not again. I could not break apart and show so many feelings—so much pain. What would they think of me if I broke down over a dress? “It is hideous, and I will not put it on.”
Wrath looked far more concerned than before, his hair standing on edge and body growing. With as much dignity as I could muster when acting like a fool, I tightened my towel and proceeded to run out of the room. Cheeks heated and heart racing, I stumbled forward in the halls, opening every unlocked door in a desperate attempt to find Henry.
But after scaling a set of yellow stairs and rushing through yet another hallway, I found myself in front of a set of faded green double doors, the handles a strange brassy color. I ripped them open, not hesitating to dive into the unlit room. I could not search any longer, could not do anything other than fall to the floor in a fit of sobs.
My knees hit first, quickly followed by my free hand. The tears tore through my body, crashing waves of betrayal in a sea of remembered pain.
Bellamy was gone, likely throwing himself into harm’s way to protect innocents with the remainder of his Trusted. Nicola, Farai, and Jasper were surrounded by vipers with golden scales. Winona and Pino were fucking dead.
And I could not breathe.
How many times would I die upon a floor until it finally stuck? Eternity might bless the world yet and end me now. What an embarrassing way to break, at the hands of silk and past hurts, nearly naked on the floor of someone else’s home.
Even with the knowledge that anyone could have seen me running through the halls in only a towel, I still could not do anything but gasp for air and feel everything. With the last dregs of my strength, I let my mental gates open and tried to pull in any emotion outside of my own.
To my surprise, there was a mind not far away, full of curiosity and empathy.
Shah.
I looked up, grasping at my throat as I did, and there she was. Atop a seat built just below a wide window, which provided a beautiful view of the star-filled sky and vast expanse of trees, sat the Queen of Behman. Despite the sight, her eyes remained trained on me, the dark depths of them lit by the moon and so extensive they seemed endless. It was terrifying how much I saw inside of them.
Her thoughts raced—her mind just as full as that gaze.
Why was I there? What was wrong with me? What should she do? Was it a panic attack? Was someone hurting me?
On and on, question after question until I forced that stupid golden gate closed, watching it slam and locking it tight. Then I shook my head, my damp hair whipping back and forth as I tried to rid myself of everything. Tears still quickly fell down my cheeks, the salty taste of them drying out my mouth.
How should I explain that I was drowning above water? Suffocating on a color that had smothered me my entire life?
