Chapter 130 130
Amarien's POV
Her lips curved slowly and knowingly. Like she had been waiting for that refusal and found it exactly where she expected.
“Ah, my friend,” she murmured, her voice tender. “I knew you would refuse me again.”
She paced around me.
“This is why,” she continued, folding her hands before her like a patient teacher indulging a stubborn child, “I did not come empty-handed.”
I frowned despite myself. “What are you talking about?”
“I came with an offer.”
Offer? I wondered.
I hated that my heart quickened.
I hated that some ugly, starved part of me leaned closer.
She stepped around me, slow and deliberate, until she stood at my side, close enough.
“I know what binds your tongue,” she said softly. “I know what chains your hands.”
My jaw tightened.
“You are afraid,” she went on, “of the blood of his child being on your head.”
My fingers curled into my palms.
“You want to remain clean of this.”
Clean. I do want a clear conscience.
“And you can,” she whispered like she heard my thoughts.
My breath hitched before I could stop it.
She turned then, facing me fully. Her eyes were not wild tonight.
“I will make it so,” she said.
My pulse pounded in my ears.
“Whatever I did… or will do… to Daevir’s child will be on my head. Not yours.”
The air thinned.
For a moment, I could not swallow. The words echoed, cruel and sweet.
And gods help me…
I had prayed for this.
In the dark, when pride was stripped from me, and all that remained was grief and rage, I had begged. Begged the gods. Begged any benevolent or malevolent force listening. Begged the wind, the stars, the damned silence.
Do it for me.
Do what I cannot.
Make him feel it.
Make him understand.
Theron had been taking his time to deliver justice.
All I wanted was an eye for an eye.
A tooth for a tooth.
I could see it, unbidden. Daevir on his knees. His son, torn from him. The helplessness in his eyes. The disbelief. The cracking of something inside him that would never mend.
The same look.
The same agony.
The same endless, suffocating emptiness.
I endured
It was tempting.
Gods, it was tempting.
She would do it.
She would bear it.
And I…
I would remain untouched.
Untainted. Unbothered.
I would keep my hands clean while my heart feasted on vengeance.
“I have appealed to you for weeks,” she had said before.
“You deserve vengeance,” she had told me.
“You deserve retribution.”
My hands trembled.
I hated that I wanted it.
The Scarlet Witch watched me carefully. She did not rush me. She did not press.
“All I need,” she had said before, “is your voice.”
The Scarlet Witch tilted her head slightly, as though adjusting a piece on a board only she could see. “Just a word. Just permission. And Ares would be dead.”
She was getting to me.
She knew it.
I knew it.
“You will get it all on one condition,” she said smoothly.
There it was.
I should have known.
Nothing from her ever came without a hook buried inside it.
“What condition?” I asked, my voice colder now.
“Make a covenant with me.”
The word slid over my skin like frost.
“And marry Theron. Become his second chance mate.”
“What?”The word tore out of me before I could stop it.
For a moment, I simply stared at her, certain I had misheard.
“How did Theron get into this?” I demanded.
She smiled faintly, as though amused by my shock.
“We may have different methods,” she said, folding her hands behind her back, pacing once in a slow arc. “Different goals. Different appetites.”
Her gaze found mine again.
“But we serve the same end.”
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
“And what end is that?” I asked quietly.
“To bring Daevir down.”
The air thickened between us.
“Theron hates him,” she continued. “As you do.”
My jaw tightened.
Hate was too small a word for what festered in me.
“And Theron needs strength beside him,” she said. “He needs a bond that restores what he lost. A second chance mate is that key.”
My heart began to pound again, but for an entirely different reason.
“You think I would chain myself to him,” I said slowly, “for the sake of your vendetta?”
“Our vendetta,” she corrected softly.
I ignored that.
“You would gain all you've ever wanted,” she pressed. “Position. Influence. Theron’s territory. His warriors. His claim. All your enemies under your feet.”
Her eyes darkened.
“And Daevir down on his knees begging for mercy.”