Chapter 180: regrets

The night wind cut through the sky as I flew, the icy air biting at my skin, but I barely felt it. Snowflakes battered against my scales, but they could not cool the fire burning inside me. My wings sliced through the clouds as I pushed forward, faster, harder, as if I could outrun the ghosts that chased me.  

But I couldn’t.  

Yong’s final words echoed in my head.

"don't hurt them"

His blood was still on my hands.  

Lira’s lifeless face flashed before my eyes. The little girl with silver hair, who had reached for her mother with tiny hands. My wife’s daughter. Not mine. Not mine.  

And yet, I had killed her.  

The realization churned in my gut, thick and nauseating. My father had done this—taken innocent lives without hesitation, without remorse. I had sworn I would never become him.  

Yet tonight, the world would whisper a different story.  

The King of Dragons had spilled innocent blood.  

My own son would never forgive me.  

Aster.  

His face, his rage, the betrayal in his eyes it had been the same way I had once looked at my father.  

I had torn everything apart in a single night.  

The stars above blurred as my vision darkened with exhaustion. My mind was a battlefield, waging war against itself, screaming at me for what I had done.  

But I had no choice.  

I repeated those words to myself over and over, clinging to them like a dying man grasping for air. I had no choice.

It didn’t matter.  

Nothing could wash the blood from my hands.  

(Arrival at Maelstrom)

The castle loomed in the distance, its towering spires a black silhouette against the stormy sky. The moment I landed on the balcony of my chambers, my legs nearly gave out beneath me.  

Guards rushed forward, bowing low, their faces tight with barely hidden fear. No one spoke. No one dared to ask where I had been, why I had returned covered in blood.  

They knew better.  

I stalked past them, my boots leaving a trail of crimson in the pristine marble halls, the weight of my deeds pressing down on me.  

I could still hear Lira’s small voice calling out for her mother. Mommy.

I clenched my fists and forced the thought away, moving forward as if I wasn’t suffocating under the guilt.  

I needed something anything to drown the storm raging in my head.  

Megara.

She was waiting for me when I reached my chambers.  

Megara.  

The concubine I had taken when the loneliness had become too much, when Astra’s ghost had haunted me too often in the night.  

Her curls framed her sharp face, her golden eyes watching me with careful curiosity. She wore a silk robe that barely clung to her form, draped loosely over her shoulders.  

“Sirius,” she murmured, stepping toward me. Her voice was low, sultry, meant to soothe. “You’re back.”  

I didn’t answer.  

I couldn’t.  

Her delicate hands reached for my cloak, brushing over my armor, but the moment she touched the bloodstains, she froze.  

Her eyes flicked up to mine.  

“Sirius,” she said again, softer this time. “What have you done?”  

A sharp, bitter laugh tore from my throat. “Something I can never undo.”  

I moved past her, ripping off my cloak and tossing it aside. The weight of it made my shoulders ache, but it was nothing compared to the weight in my chest.  

Megara watched me carefully. She had always been good at reading people, at knowing when to push and when to hold back.  

But tonight, she didn’t know what to do with me.  

She had seen me return from war before. She had seen me bloodied and battle-worn.  

But never like this.  

Never with such emptiness in my eyes.  

She reached for me again, this time pressing her hands against my chest, trying to ground me. “Come to bed,” she whispered. “Let me take care of you.”  

Her touch was soft, warm. A comfort I should have wanted but I never have since I took her as my concubine as a pity on her life after slaying her father.

But the moment her hands pressed against me, all I could see was Astra.  

Astra, sobbing in the snow.  

Astra, screaming as she cradled Lira’s lifeless body.  

Astra, looking at me with eyes full of hatred.  

I recoiled as if burned, stepping back so fast I nearly stumbled.  

Megara’s eyes darkened.  

She lowered her hands, studying me. “This is about her, isn’t it?”  

I said nothing.  

Megara let out a bitter laugh. “Of course it is.”  

I turned away, unable to face her, unable to face myself.  

The room felt suffocating, the walls pressing in on me, the scent of perfume thick and cloying.  

I needed air.  

I stormed to the balcony, gripping the cold railing as I sucked in deep, ragged breaths. The wind howled around me, the night sky stretching endlessly before me.  

But no matter how far I looked, I couldn’t escape what I had done.  

“I killed a child,” I said suddenly, the words spilling from my lips like poison.  

Silence.  

Megara was stiff behind me.  

I could feel her hesitation, the careful way she stepped forward. “Sirius…”  

“I killed Yong,” I continued, my voice hollow. “I ran my blade through his chest, and I watched the life drain from his eyes.”  

I squeezed my hands into fists.  

“And then I walked into their home,” I whispered. “And I took their daughter’s life, too.”  

The words felt foreign, as if someone else had spoken them.  

But they were mine.  

Megara said nothing for a long time.  

And then—  

“Why?”  

I let out a sharp breath, my fingers tightening around the railing until my knuckles turned white.  

“Because she wasn’t mine.”  

Megara exhaled slowly. “And that was enough to kill her?”  

I turned, my eyes burning. “What would you have done?” I snapped. “If the woman you loved had given herself to another man? If she had carried his child? If your son looked at you with the same hatred you once held for your own father?”  

Megara didn’t flinch. She had always been strong, always unshaken, unbothered.

But now, something flickered in her gaze.  

Pity.  

She pitied me.  

And for the first time in my life, I felt small.  

“Sirius,” she murmured, stepping closer. “You’ve lost yourself.”  

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening.  

“Come inside,” she urged, her voice softer now. “You need rest.”  

Rest.  

I let out a hollow laugh. “I’ll never rest again.”  

Because every time I closed my eyes, I would see them.  

I would see Yong’s blood in the snow.  

I would see Lira’s lifeless body.  

I would see Astra’s broken heart.  

Megara didn’t argue. She just reached for me again, pulling me toward her, wrapping her arms around me.  

For the first time in years, I let myself be held.  

But I felt nothing.  

Because whatever was left of me had died in that village.