5. pendulum

5

pendulum

Rivian

PRESENT DAY - October 24th

"You have some explaining to do." Troian's tone is harsh but low as she tosses me my dirtied shirt, stepping over bodies with a painfully bothered look on her face.

I won't lie, I am happy to see my sister so . . . effervescent, after death nearly greeted her. I was worried for a moment. Worried that I'd lost the only person who didn't look at me like I was a monster.

I take the shirt and pull my arms through the sleeves, buttoning it up a few notches before walking to stand over my wife's torpid body.

"Where do you want me to start?" I ask my sister, not glancing in her direction as I roll up my sleeves, hoping to avoid the futile sting of regret that I might be prone to feeling at a time like this.

It's not something I allow myself to feel, but in this moment, it's the very thing that haunts me. How did I let it get this far?

"Start with what the fuck you were doing with my mother, Rivian. And why the hell did you let her nearly kill her." I close my eyes as Troian's feigned resolute words fill the space between my ears, knowing that if I spare her the truth, she'll only find out anyway, and her anger might be more warranted than it already is. I can't stand the thought of purposefully hurting Troian. She's the one person I didn't think enough about hurting when I sought out to enact my plans.

I've been selfish. Very fucking selfish. But the realization comes far too late.

"What the hell were you two up to?" I look over to my sister, her face now displaying the thoughts and feelings she's strongly trying to avoid; a look of utter devastation on her face.

Troian has always been the type of girl to hide her emotions, the ones that make her seem vulnerable anyway. She doesn't like when people can read her or when she's in a position to be taken advantage of. I taught her that; I taught her to keep her true feelings hidden just enough to make the whole world question who it is they're dealing with. But now I wonder if it did her any good or if I've twisted her to be someone I needed to be.

It reminds me of how Lucynda has been with me since the moment I met her. A defense mechanism I believe. But she never quite mastered the skill of hiding vulnerability the way my sister had. Which allowed me to play on her emotions and attempt to feed a false narrative to her, making her believe she desired one thing more than the other. Now look at where we are.

" We were not up to anything, Troian," I tell her truthfully. Lucynda and I have never schemed together. Though I won't lie, I would have preferred that. That was my plan after all, was it not? To get Lucynda to be on the same page as me—feeling tormented by the pain her mother caused her, needing her to believe that her life's trajectory was a result of the day her mother left her—all so that she and I could feel absolution in the suffering of her mother together . But my failed attempt at manipulating my sweetest sin was never going to go the way I wanted it to because I let my own feelings get in the way.

I tried to play the role I was given—a villain who only does what benefits himself—but with her I wanted to feel the pull of her soul to mine. I yearned for her body to be close to mine and I craved to twist my fingers in her hair. I wanted to hear her soft moans and watch the bat of her eyelashes as she tried to hide herself from me. I wanted her. But I was too stubborn and dead set on ignoring my needs to fulfill my wants because I knew in the end, she'd do the same to me that everyone else has. She'd leave, and Lucynda leaving me . . . that would break me, and I was not in position to be broken again.

But as I look down at my wife, the mess she's made surrounding her, the sound of disappointment gripping my sister's tone, and the other problems I have to face when I leave these bloodied walls, it doesn't take long for me to recognize that I was the foolish one.

If I'd never met Lucynda, everything would have gone according to plan, and I'd likely be dead . . . for good. But as it is, I did meet her. It was inevitable. I was thrown into a war brewing in my head, indecisive about what I needed and what I wanted. I thought one was the other, that I needed my absolution and only merely wanted her. But I was wrong about that too. I just forced myself to believe that I didn't deserve the luxury of having someone who had the power to destroy me, that I was weak for wanting to have her as anything other than a means to an end. My failure was not heeding the advice that those who have the power to ruin you, to rip your heart out and destroy you, are the ones you should fight to keep around.

I shake my head of the thoughts, knowing that nothing will come of me dwelling on the situation at hand. Time is undoubtedly of the essence, and I need to figure out how I am going to resolve this.

I look over at Troian, an understanding filling her eyes as she allows me to have my moment of mental restitute.

She deserves answers, real and truthful answers.

But once again, I'm selfish. And even despite my epiphany, I can't force myself to give that information up just yet, not until I know I can be forgiven—if that's what I even want—and even then, I need to make sure this is fixable before I send my sister on a path of destruction of her own. Not that I think my sister is capable of anything I have ever done, or what Lucynda has done for that matter. But then again, betrayal can play a funny part in one's brain, switching courses at the drop of a dime.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you-"

"Don't lie to me. You've already lied to me once." I hear the pain in her voice, the hurt is written all over her face. It irritates me.

She closes her eyes, still trying to evade the pain that I know she wants to let herself feel. But she's just as stubborn as me, if not more and she doesn't let anything dictate sadness in her heart. "I won't let you tell me any more lies, Rivian. Please, I need the truth." She crosses her arms over her chest and waits on me, waits for me to give her what she deserves.

"I don't recall the lie you claim I've told. Enlighten me." I'm an asshole, but I can't help it. I've been carved into the shell of someone who is simply designed to work in circles that only benefit themselves. But I move that way because it protects everyone else. They have to see that.

"You're eighteenth birthday." Troian looks me dead in my eyes, obviously annoyed that I won't answer her question, but I can tell that she never expected me too. Another pang of disappointment rattles me, a feeling that I know I will start to feel more of.

She takes a deep sigh and does her best to mimic a voice that is supposed to resemble my own. " I am the only one who loves you. I will always protect you and keep you safe.”

"That was not a lie," I tell her now feeling anger at her for ever assuming that I would make promises I cannot keep . . . intentionally anyway.

"Then what the fuck do you call all this?" She waves her hands around us and I don't even flinch at the scene. I know what lies around us. Death. Destruction.

"This isn’t a reflection of intentional harm to you. This was a mistake. I had no clue she'd go off the rails like this." I try to maintain composure, control. But another thing about my sister is that she is not easily manipulated or fooled. She is like a vacuum for bullshit, and she can see right through me.

"Another lie," she says.

"Elaborate," I walk over to the bar top where I spot a somewhat clean cloth, picking it up to wipe the blood I know is staining my mouth. I can still taste my wife on my tongue.

"I think you wanted her like this. I think you like her this way. I think you sought out to make her feel the pain you've felt, the pain you hide from everyone else in your life. You wanted to make her hate you as much as you hate you. You wanted to make her mad at the world just like you are so that whatever you were doing behind all of our backs wouldn't make you feel stupid, because let me tell you Rivian, this is all so fucked up and stupid." She pegs me with a deep, burning need for truth in her eyes and I have to try my best not to applaud her; she really is fucking smart. Clearly, I’m more transparent than I believed. "And don’t you dare try to say that you don’t like her like this, otherwise you wouldn't have fucked her . . . like this ."

My face heats. Not out of irritation. Out of lust. I don't want her to know that I did in fact enjoy taking Lucynda in the midst of her going off the rails. It was thrilling. Fulfilling. It made me feel seen because for so long, I've been hiding in the layers of what I really am . . . cruel and vilified. Born in blood.

But she’s right. This is fucked up and I know it was only a sliver of fantasy that I allowed myself to have because it was once again . . . control. But I’m going to have to let go of the idea that I will remain in control if I want any chance in tending to the ruination of this kingdom.

"I did not ask for this nor did I plan for this to happen." I’m careful with my words so as not to purposefully lie to her.

"Then what did you plan for? Because you are not entirely innocent in all of this. And what about Travois, huh? In case you forgot, he's still trapped in a cage, probably starving and bleeding dry while you play bloodbath with your obviously deranged wife."

"Like you care. Don't you have a boy toy to justify killing? That's what you do for fun right?" I point a judgmental look at her as I let the words fall from my mouth.

"Rivian, enough!” she demands, raising her voice as she scolds me. “This is not who we are. Ever since dad died and you brought Lucynda around, you haven't been yourself. You-"

"I haven't been myself since the night I turned! Since your mother broke my neck and turned me into this !"

Troy dips her head as my words reverberate around us, leaving both of us ashamed of the fight we hold between ourselves when both of us know, this is not meant to be our fight.

"You were always meant to turn, Rivian. It's your legacy. Your nature.” I hear the sincere sorrow fill her tone, and I know that what she’s saying has truth. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t despise that she’s bringing it up. “I, however, did not sign up to be betrayed by the one person who I looked up to, lying to me and sneaking around. You are ruining this Society for whatever agenda you have going on,” she scoffs. “And you ruined your wife in the process."

I hate when she's right. I hate when anyone other than me is right, but I know I am the cause of this mess we're in. The mess that now includes everyone in my kingdom because I wanted to forge Lucynda's need for vampirism, in hopes that she wouldn't disagree with my desire for Ameliana's death.

I can't weaken now. I see the pain on Troy's face, but I can't let that be my motivator. If I show weakness to her, the wrong people watching could take that the wrong way and use that against me.

"You don't know anything," I tell her, hating that I can't just fess up to everything and let it all out. Again though, I don't want the wrong ears to be privy to that knowledge and right now, I can't afford to trust anyone.

"You're right, big bro . I don't, and it sucks that you are trying so hard to keep it hidden from me. I thought we trusted each other. I can't help you if you don't let me understand." I let silence feather over us, opting not to answer her. I want to, it stabs against my heart to just give her the fucking answers. But I'm not sure I even have all the answers.

"Why did you let this happen?" she asks, this time in a much more sincere and calming tone.

"I didn't mean for this to happen, Troy. I never meant for you to get involved and for-"

"For your wife to try and kill me?" She chuckles, looking down at Lucynda and deadpans, "I thought we were starting to become friends."

I lower myself to bend down next to my wife, pulling whatever torn fabrics she still wears to cover her up. I did fuck her up. I know that. And yes, part of this was my intention. I wanted her to be angry. I wanted her to understand why I was doing what I was doing. And for a moment, she did. She even defended me for it. Until she realized that I had betrayed her just the same. I only knew that I couldn't tell her the truth about her mother willingly, she would have never let me act out my vengeance. And I needed that more than anyone could ever come to understand. It was the very thing I engineered myself in when I turned. But Lucynda would have never understood because my sweet sin's heart is too big for her own good. She craved light when I needed dark.

But then there was the curse. Something I never even considered because even the thought of it is rare.

"Lavendulan messorem," I whisper as I stand to face my sister.

"Excuse me?"

"The lavender curse. Lucynda has it." I decide to offer her one piece of truth. One thing to let her know just how dangerous my wife has become and that we might expect more of it if we don't act fast.

"Rivian." Troy's hushed warning does nothing but make me realize just how selfish I've truly been. But I couldn't control it, they'd never understand that though. They'd never understand that I didn't have a choice to pursue all of this. I'd made it worse, sure, but I was so blind in my own rage and pain that I couldn't push myself out of it. I was forged in my own flames of destruction, dooming myself by binding my dominant emotion of revenge to the forefront of my mind. Once my mind was made up, there was no turning back.

And then someone comes along and steals my attention, my soul burning for the obsession of her that I reveled in. And I just had to go and attempt to shape her to be anyone other than someone who desired love. Because love is a weakness. I didn't want that for me, knowing that my passion for her would quickly be revealed to be just that. And kings aren't allowed to be weak. Something that was engraved into my skin, evident in the many scars I endured by the hands of my father.

"Fuck, this has gotten way out of hand." I scrub a hand down my face, not really knowing how to fix this. But the inevitability of the truth will come out. I have to make sure that on the other side of this all, peace will be granted and everything will be back to where it was before I brought Lucynda into my life. But all the while, keeping her in my life. Because she may be mad at me now, but she is mine and I am not letting her go.

"You can say that again." Troy turns her head from left to right, slowly and finally, looking at the depth of chaos surrounding us. Questions likely fill her head the same as they do mine.

How do I rid my wife of this curse? How do I reel back in my Nocturnes and ease their minds while ensuring they still trust me, in the midst of a Rogue? A Rogue that is likely still at large. Who the fuck is it and why? How can I clear my brother's name when he seemed so compliant with his imprisonment? Is he truly guilty? What am I going to do with Ameliana assuming she freed herself from the fire and is now roaming around God knows where. How can I get my sister to trust me if I can't even tell her the truth?

How will I get Lucynda to forgive me?

There's only one thing I know I can control right now while I try to wrap my head around solutions for the others. I hate the feeling of what I'm about to do. It'll only make her angrier, but it's what has to be done.

"Lock her up." I give one final look to my wife before leaving her side. "I need to keep her restrained until I can figure out how to help her. Nathairia is surely on her way." I steel my back and decide I have got to stop feeling pity for myself, and I need to start a motion of some kind of plan to fix this. I need to get the kingdom back in order, figure out who's been fucking with my Society and . . . I need to get my wife back.

I walk past Troian, not willing to even look at her.

"Hold up, did you just say Nathairia?" Troy grabs me by my elbow and spins me back around to face her, a look of shock blanketing her face.

"Indeed." I speak low as I brush her hand off me.

"Oh, you've really lost your mind, haven't you?" Her sarcasm irritates me as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Who made you this way? What has you so fucked up that you-"

"Me. I'm the villain, Troian!" I raise my voice, causing my sister to flinch slightly. Everything is boiling over and I am running out of patience.

I bring my eyes up to hers and I see a tear threaten the corner of her eye. I lower my voice. "This is all on me. I did this."

"No, I refuse to accept that. You need to let someone in, Riv. Your wife is suffering. I am suffering." I hate the hurt that rattles her tone, I hate the look of disappointment painted on her face.

She notices my pause and takes a step closer to me. "I'm sorry. I just want my brother back."

"You don't think I'm trying?" Anguish plays in my tone and I know there might not be any coming back from this, but I have to try. "I may not be ready to fully impart my reasoning for all that I've done, but you need to trust me when I tell you I am going to fix it. All of it. And right now, that means bringing in Nathairia." I sigh. "Are you with me, or against me?"

There it is again, the small sliver of vulnerability my sister allows only to stomp it down and reignite the emotions that deny any kind of hurt. From the outside, she looks fine . . . happy even. But it’s obvious in her pleas for me to act swiftly that more than just this current moment has been affecting her for a while now.

"You are so stubborn." Troy rolls her eyes while aggressively batting away the tear that fell down her cheek. She walks back over to Cyn's body and leans down. "I'll get Lucynda taken care of, and I'll trust you while I can. But I need you to tell me what your problem is with my mother. And why your wife was involved."

I dip my head before turning back around to leave.

"I promise to tell you everything," I say before I drop my voice to a whisper that I know she won't be able to hear. "Just . . . help me."