Chapter 33

33

TREYTON

I don’t know why I just blurted it out like that.

All I knew was that she was staring at me, her eyes wide with betrayal and pain, and I wanted to ease her suffering no matter the cost.

She wanted my truths, so I gave them to her.

I just didn’t expect it to go quite like this.

Dark tension saturates the air as Kassandra gapes at me. Even Blaze and Aleksander stare at me in disbelief.

But then that disbelief turns to rage.

Blaze pounces on me before I can stop him, his hand already balled into a fist. I don’t fight him or push him away. It’s the least I deserve after what I did.

Who I killed.

“You son of a bitch!” he roars, spittle flying.

He rams his knuckles against my cheek. Once. Twice. Three times. When he moves his arm back to deliver a fourth punch, Kassandra races forward and grabs his wrist, stopping him. He glares at her, but she meets it head-on with a stony expression of her own. The air around them seems to spark and crackle, and I’m not surprised when Blaze gives in first, turning away with a scowl.

He pushes off of me, jumps to his feet, and storms a short distance away. He begins to pace back and forth, back and forth, his feet creating holes in the dirt.

I can feel Kassandra’s eyes on me—burning and scalding—but I don’t turn away from Blaze. His anger is the safer option. I’d rather stare down his sword than see the disapproval and hatred splayed across Kassandra’s face.

Her gloved hand touches my cheek and forces my gaze to hers. Tears well in her eyes, but they don’t fall. Her lips are thin and solemn.

“Explain,” she signs with her free hand, releasing me.

I swallow around the blade that has lodged in my throat. “It was years ago,” I rasp out. “I was just a stupid kid. I didn’t know?—”

“Explain,” she says, her fingers an aggressive flurry in the air. “Don’t give excuses.”

I close my eyes—I can’t stand to see the condemnation on her face—and prepare myself to tell her my biggest secret. The one I’m most ashamed of. The one I’ve been trying to make amends for. But no amount of atoning will ever fix what I’ve done.

How many fae died because of me? Because of my actions? How many parents lost children? Or children lost parents?

“We were preparing for war against the Fall Court,” I whisper brokenly. It hurts to breathe. Hurts to swallow. Hurts to even think. My mind is a maelstrom, and there’s no escaping. “This was before Blaze’s engagement to Serena.

“The Fall Court had promised us supplies in exchange for crops, but they changed their mind at the last moment, leaving us with nothing. My father wanted to declare war, but I knew we were outmatched. We couldn’t compete against Blaze’s army.”

Even back then, the Fall Prince had been a renowned general. His name instilled terror in every corner of the world.

It still does, if I’m being completely honest. Every fae knows the name Prince Blaze.

I take another shuddering breath, greedily inhaling air, before exhaling. “I tried to tell my father that declaring war on them would be suicidal for our troops. He didn’t listen.” My upper lip peels away from my teeth when I think of the cowardly male who rules my court. “He was determined to make the Fall Court pay for their slight against us.

“So…I came up with a solution to even the playing field. At the time, it seemed like a good idea—the only idea. I hired the brightest minds in my court to weaponize the black virus. I’ve seen firsthand how deadly it could be, and I thought that if we were to release it in the Fall Court, it would reduce their numbers significantly.”

Blaze roars in anger, but I don’t open my eyes to see his expression.

“I don’t know how much you know about the black virus, but it’s a subset of the common Fairy Disease. But it’s rare. Well, it was rare. There had only been three cases before…” Before I released it into the world.

My heart feels like it’s getting shredded. Fuck, the pain… How can someone survive this? What makes it worse is the fact that I know my pain is infinitesimal compared to others who were impacted. My emotions almost feel…wrong. Out of place. Inadequate. I know fae who have lost everyone they loved because of the virus, so what right do I have to feel such immense grief?

I finally peel my eyelids open and lock gazes with Kassandra. She’s crying silently, tears paving their way down her red cheeks. My own eyes begin to water.

“You have to understand… I changed my mind at the last moment. I chose not to release the virus. I knew that there would be innocent casualties, but…” I scrub a hand down my face as old memories bombard me. “My father caught wind of my experiments and released it regardless of my wishes. We didn’t know… We didn’t know it would be so contagious. That it would kill so many fae. That it would eradicate almost all mating bonds. I swear to you?—”

My head reels to the side from the force of Kassandra’s slap. She stares at me, wide-eyed and unblinking, as anger twists her face into something unrecognizable.

“You killed thousands of innocent fae!” she signs, more tears rushing down her cheeks. Each one creates another crack in my heart. “For what? For a political game that no one but the two of you understands?” She twists her head to address Blaze in that statement as well. “We are not your pawns. The world isn’t your fucking playground.”

“I’m sorry—” I choke out.

She whirls on me, a mixture of exasperation and anger distorting her face and clouding her blue eyes. “Why are you apologizing to me ? You should be saying sorry to the thousands of families who had to bury a wife, husband, daughter, son, brother, or sister!”

“I know.” I lower my gaze to my hands in my lap, but she once again grabs my chin, forcing me to stare at her.

“Don’t you dare look away from me,” she signs.

“You hate me now,” I whisper brokenly.

She doesn’t even hesitate when she responds. “Yes.”

“You think I’m a monster.” It’s not a question, but once again, she answers as if it is one.

“Yes.”

“Will you ever forgive me?”

This time, she doesn’t grace me with a response. She simply stares at me with a sad expression—the sight twisting my stomach into a thousand tight knots, more painful than any stabbing would've been—before climbing to her feet. She brushes at the dirt staining her dress without meeting my gaze.

But her silence is answer enough.

As she moves to stand by Blaze, the last piece of my heart dissolves into dust. I lower my head between my legs and begin to sob.