As I’m about to intervene, Athalda, amidst coughs, manages to choke out, “Are you certain Samael is merely your stepbrother? You might find you share more with him than you realize.”
“He’s a monster. He tortured the innocent. Do you think you’re innocent?” Lyra challenges, her voice hard, but then unexpectedly she withdraws her shadows, allowing Athalda a moment’s reprieve. The old witch collapses to the wooden floor, her knees hitting with a thud that echoes through the room. Looking up at Lyra, there’s a fleeting moment where I feel a pang of sympathy for Athalda. Perhaps, in some twisted way, she and Lyra aren’t so different—both manipulated by Euric, both deceived and used for his ambitions. Yet this common ground doesn’t excuse Athalda’s actions.
“What are you doing? Do you want me to finish her off for you?” Nyx offers, but the suggestion seems off, especially coming from someone who claims to be the light against the darkness.
“No, I’m not a monster. And your power… It’s nothing compared to mine,” Lyra asserts, her authority undisputed in the dim light of the room, as she turns back to Athalda. “You claim Zomea’s vast? Then I banish you from this palace. Find a new corner of misery for your existence. Perhaps away from my father’s influence, you might find redemption. Or not. Either way, if our paths cross again, I may not hold back. I may be a monster.”
Without responding, Athalda disappears from the room, perhaps wisely choosing silence over a parting jab. The air feels cleaner, somehow lighter, though Nyx’s quick move to embrace Lyra sets a knot in my stomach. I turn away, unable to watch their display of unity.
“Let’s move away from here, please,” I mutter as I head toward the main sitting room.
The weight of what she said weighs heavily on my mind. “I may be a monster.” The possibility of her embracing that darkness fully is a thought I don’t want to entertain.
Chapter3
Lyra
“Doyou think Drew will welcome me back into her home after what happened?” I ask and draw near Colton, who has paused by the fireplace. It’s the same fireplace where my father and I shared countless conversations during my last visit here.
“You mean after you annihilated half of the Luminary Council—practically vaporized them?” Nyx chimes in from behind, causing a wave of nausea to wash over me. I feel an urgent need to escape.
“Shut up, Nyx,” Colton snaps then turns to me with a softer expression. “Drew will definitely welcome you back. She’s with us. After what you did, the rest of the council scattered. My parents have even retreated to Nighthold by now.”
It’s a relief to hear that.
“We need to go back then. Now,” I declare, ready to use my magic to transport us to the bridge.
“Wait, aren’t we going to discuss what happened here?” Nyx interjects, but I’m not in the state to delve into that conversation.
“I need some time...alone,” I say, my gaze shifting between Nyx’s frustrated look and Colton’s concerned one. They both nod, albeit reluctantly, understanding my plea for a moment’s solitude.
The journey back to the hive is uneventful, a small mercy for which I’m grateful. Once back, Nyx and Colton leave me to my thoughts after I assure them I’ll manage on my own. My room feels both comforting and isolating as I close the door behind them.
I find myself yearning for Chepi’s company, his presence a calming force amidst the storm of my emotions. Lili’s care for him eases one of my many worries, but it’s a small comfort against the tide of fear and uncertainty that threatens to drown me.
The dread of wielding my dark magic again, of the potential harm I could cause, knots my stomach. The control I managed over it with Athalda was only due to my weakened state, a temporary leash on a power that’s both exhilarating and horrifying.
Seeking some semblance of normalcy, I head to the bathroom to wash away the physical reminders of the day’s events. Stripping off my blood-stained clothes, I confront my reflection in the mirror, relieved to find my eyes a swirling mix of blue and green, untainted by the black veins of corruption. The sight offers a momentary respite, but it’s short lived. As I wash, the sight of dried blood under my fingernails—my father’s blood—overwhelms me, sending me reeling to the toilet where I’m gripped by dry heaves.
The tears that follow are not for him but for the pain he caused, the pain I’ve inflicted, and the inevitable suffering yet to come. The thought of losing control again, of the darkness within me breaking free and taking over, is a weight too heavy to bear right now. I try to tell myself thecouncil members deserved to die, that Euric deserved to die, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
Eventually, I find the strength to rise, wash my face, and don the black nightgown Drew provided. I’m thankful she keeps this room stocked with clean clothes. Crawling into bed, I’m enveloped by the soft linens, a cocoon against the chaos of my thoughts and the world outside. Here, in the quiet darkness, I allow myself a moment to breathe, to mourn, and to steel myself for what lies ahead.
I might have been asleep for mere minutes or entire days for all I know when I’m roused by a soft knock on my door. Silently cursing the disturber, I hop out of bed.
Opening the door, I discover Colton in a pair of shorts, his hair tousled, and his impressive abs on display. Whether he’s just woken up or finished working out, I can’t ascertain.
“You were in pain. I felt it. Another nightmare?” he asks. Strangely, I can’t recall if I was dreaming, which is unusual. I must still be weak, too exhausted to even dream properly.
“I’m not sure,” I respond, tucking my hair behind my ears and gesturing for him to come inside.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he says, but the thought of discussing anything is overwhelming at the moment.
“Can it wait until tomorrow? I’m... My brain feels like mush,” I plead.
He smirks, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes, “Mush, huh? Sure, we can talk tomorrow, Princess,” he concedes, turning to leave. Yet the thought of him leaving fills me with a sudden sense of urgency. My moments with Colton are precious, especially with the uncertainty surrounding Nyx’s role in all this.
“Stay. Come to bed with me, please,” I say, offering a small smile.
