50. Fifty

Fifty

This was not going to work for me.

We had not spent our entire lives building these bonds just to abandon them when we lost our glue.

That’s what he was—Ardan. He was the glue that had held our family together all these years.

I would not defile his memory by letting that family crumble into ruins.

Landers watched me from the desk in the corner of my room as I paced back and forth at the foot of the bed. Smirking at the tenth sigh I let out, he finally turned to me. “You seem to be getting quite a lot done.”

I scowled at him, continuing to pace a few more steps. I let out a final sigh and said, “I have to see her today.”

“I agree.” Landers leaned back into his chair, watching me as I lowered myself to the edge of the bed.

“I can use my shadows to get her door unlocked, but—”

“Unfortunately, the wards I weaved for this castle do not allow anyone but me to break into a room. A precaution taken in the event we are ever under attack.”

I groaned. My plan was wilting before it even had the chance to grow roots.

He reached into the pocket of his leathers. “But, I do have a key.” He grinned as he held up a single iron key, its intricate, woven handle shining in the sun pouring in from the terrace. I stalked over to him, snatching it out of his hand and inspecting it. It was heavy—old—with a small black gem soldered into its side, right above the teeth.

“You live to annoy,” I said, my eyes still fixed on the ancient thing.

“I do my best,” he drawled.

I pulled my eyes from the key to see his were already on me. They were soft, open, as they gazed at me. I smiled as I slipped into his lap, draping my arm around his shoulders.

“Thank you, for everything,” I whispered softly across his lips before pressing mine to his.

A kiss I would never get enough of.

A kiss that made me believe that maybe, just maybe, not all love was painful.

He slid his fingers up the back of my neck and down my jaw, stopping only to tuck a curl behind my ear. He pulled away from the kiss, just enough to see my face as he said, “Go, take care of your family.”

An hour later I was pacing again.

My eyes darted back and forth between my boots and the door Ata had locked herself behind. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever wrath awaited me on the other side.

I would take all of it.

I pushed the key into the lock, and when it clicked in, I twisted.

The room was in shambles.

None of the furniture, none of the art had survived the wreckage. I closed the door quietly behind me, pushing the key into my jacket pocket as I took one step inside.

There was silence.

Heartbreaking silence.

The songs from the birds did not flow through the open balcony archways. The curtains did now billow in the warm breeze.

“Ata?” I called out softly, but I heard nothing. Nothing but the crunching of glass beneath my boots.

I called her name again, taking another step in. I moved splintered boards of wood, stacking them against the wall as I created a pathway through the room. A shiver skidded over my skin, and I realized she had pulled the glass doors shut, suffocating the oxygen in the chamber. Webs cracked through the glass, threatening to release the pieces from their places with the softest of touches.

The room was a reflection of so much pain. Pain that ate away at your marrow day by day—second by second.

I saw her then.

Curled, so tight into a ball, and pushed behind the broken bed frame. The fragments of my heart I didn’t think could break any smaller, turned to dust at the sight of her.

I ran to her, sprinting over tattered fabric, and throwing everything out of my path that blocked me from her side. I dropped to my knees beside her, and the eyes that looked up at me were not my friend’s.

I pulled her into my arms and let her fall apart.

The glass doors cascaded to the ground at the wail that escaped her lungs.

Her fists beat against my chest, against my jaw, but still I pulled her closer.

Still I held her tighter.

I would take it all.

“Why!” she screamed as her fist connected with my shoulder. “Why!”

Another blow.

“Why did they take him from me?” she sobbed, flinging her arms around my neck. Pushing her face into my shoulder as her fingers tangled in my hair—clawing, grasping for anything. “We were supposed to have more time. I needed more time.” Tears began rolling down my own face, mixing with hers as they met at the base of my throat.

I swallowed back a sob.

I didn’t know what to say; I didn’t have any answers for her. All I could do was hold her, and hope that somehow . . . somehow, it would be enough.

That she would know she was not alone.

I pulled her tighter, as if I could absorb her pain and make it mine—as if I could take it from her and bear the weight of it myself. Anything . . . I would do anything to help ease her pain.

But I knew. I knew from my own shattered heart that there was nothing anyone could do or say to fix this.

So, I pressed my cheek to the top of her head and whispered, “I love you, Ata.”

Eventually, her sobs subsided, and our deep breaths replaced the cries of agony and grief.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

I pulled away from her, cupping the face I did not recognize. “Do not apologize for your pain. I will be your punching bag, your sounding board, your shoulder. I will be—I will do whatever you need, so you feel something other than this misery.”

She smiled at me softly as the face she hid behind slowly shed. The deep red hair turned to black, and her eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes looked up at me.

“You can make it through this,” I said. “ We are going to make it through this.” And as I pulled her head back into my chest I chanted the words that had kept me alive—kept me whole. “You will not break”

She sniffed, wiping her nose with a corner of her torn shirt. “I never told him how I felt. He never knew I loved him.” Her voice trembled as she said the words, strangling a sob desperate to escape.

“He knew, Ata. I promise you, he knew.”

“I am scared,” she whispered. “Scared of who I will become without him. He was all the best parts of me, and he never knew.” I pulled her forehead to my lips, laying a soft kiss against her skin and let out a soft breath.

Then told her everything he had used his last breaths to say.