Her eyes flickered at my words—clouded with grief, but not doubt.It was like the thought of something darker, something intentional, hadn’t touched her mind.
I watched her closely.That same hollow look clung to her face, like sorrow had wrapped its fingers around her throat and wouldn’t let go.She was too far gone in mourning to consider the possibility that her mother’s death was more than a mistake.
But I couldn’t let it go.
A Timehealer?Dead by poison?No.That didn’t sit right.It clawed at the back of my mind like a whisper I couldn’t ignore.
She blinked, slow—like she was dragging herself out of a place I couldn’t follow.Then she went on, voice flat, mechanical, untouched by what I had just said.
Like the truth hadn’t reached her yet.Or maybe...she just didn’t want it to.
“With her death, our family shattered.My father and brothers… became more ruthless in pursuing power.Their thirst for control knew no bounds.”
Her hands clenched into fists as her voice hardened with conviction.“But I refused to follow in their footsteps.I vowed to put an end to their corruption.”
She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself before continuing.“The poison needed years to ferment, to reach its full potency.And when it was finally ready… I traveled to France to begin my mission.”
Her words lingered in the silence that followed—a declaration of defiance, sacrifice, and war she had waged alone.
And now, I understood.
She wasn’t just fighting against corruption; she was fighting against the legacy that ran through her veins.
I reached for her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.“And how is it that you did not die, my love?”My concern for her safety momentarily overshadowed the storm of questions swirling in my mind about Mathias.
Elizabeth shifted, lifting herself onto her elbow to meet my gaze.“I waited until the poison had fully matured,” she said, her voice quiet yet resolute.
A flicker of something darker crossed her expression.“There were moments when guilt consumed me, whispering doubts, making me question whether I was inflicting suffering on innocent lives.But then I would remind myself of the atrocities committed by Lord Winston, by my father—true monsters and sadists who thrived on pain and power.”
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as memories resurfaced, raw and unrelenting.Without hesitation, I reached for her, pulling her into my arms.She melted into my embrace, her body trembling as she released the emotions she had buried for so long.
“You did the right thing,” I whispered against her hair, my grip tightening around her.“You had to protect yourself.You had to stop them.”
Her grief was a tangible force, tugging at the threads of my soul.
Slowly, she pulled back, her tear-streaked face lifting to meet mine.Her eyes, filled with an aching vulnerability, searched my own.
“Amir, you have been my protector, my solace.You have shown me kindness and comfort, shielding me from my father’s fury.”Her voice wavered, but the truth in her words was undeniable.“Despite your claims of being darkness… of being a monster… there is so much more to you.I’ve always seen the man beneath it all.But here, lying beside you, it’s undeniable.You’re strong, brave… and far kinder than you let the world believe.”
She exhaled shakily, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
“You would have been a wonderful father,” she whispered.
The words hit me like a blade to the chest, carving through the walls I had spent years fortifying—a father.The thought had never crossed my mind.Duty was always my priority—loyalty to Lazarus, the mission, the war.There had never been room for such dreams.And yet, something stirred within me, something unfamiliar and dangerous.
I swallowed, the weight of an impossible future pressing against my ribs.“If I ever had sons, I would raise them to be fearless warriors.They would embody honor, bravery, resilience, and heroism,” I declared, my voice steadier than the storm raging inside me.
Elizabeth tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her gaze.“What would you name them?”
For the first time, I imagined a life beyond bloodshed, beyond vengeance—a future where I was more than a weapon.
“My sons would have powerful names,” I mused.“One would be Roman.And if I had another, I would name him Marcellious.”
She smiled softly, then asked, “And what if you had a daughter?”
A daughter.
The thought nearly unraveled me.I had always envisioned raising warriors and preparing them for battle.But at that moment, I saw her—a girl with Elizabeth’s strength, fire, and gentleness—a daughter who would be fearless, resilient… and unstoppable.
