Chapter 147 When the storm finally broke
IRIS
I follow him through the hallway, my boots squelching in the mud he tracked in, and I already know where this is going. I can feel it coiling in him, waiting to burst, and I know he can’t stop it himself. He doesn’t even glance at me as I open the door to our bedroom.
The second the door swings wide, the chaos hits me like a physical force. Clothes are strewn across the floor, books fly from the shelves, and the furniture is in shambles. His anger has taken a tangible form in the room, tearing it apart piece by piece. A vase skitters across the floor, crashing against the wall and shattering into jagged pieces. My chest tightens, my hand goes instinctively to my mouth, and I flinch.
“Darian…” I whisper, stepping cautiously into the center of the room, careful to avoid shards of glass and overturned chairs. “Stop. Please.”
He doesn’t glance at me. He’s moving too fast, throwing anything he can grab. The walls, the floor, the very air seems to vibrate with his rage. The storm that’s been inside him since our father’s death has finally found a place to explode, and it’s terrifying.
“Darian!” I shout, my voice rising despite the fear curling in my stomach. My heart is in my throat. “Please… stop!”
Finally, his hands pause mid-air. He turns slowly, chest heaving, eyes blazing. The room is a mess, chaos incarnate, but he looks… broken. Not just broken—raw, exposed, the kind of hurt that can’t be hidden by anger alone.
“Why…?” His voice is low, almost strangled. “Why didn’t you let me kill him?”
I step closer, careful not to startle him further. “I already told you why, Darian. I won’t let you do that. I won’t let you lose yourself to vengeance. I’ve said it before, and I’m saying it again now.”
His lips press into a thin line, and he throws himself to the floor, collapsing in the middle of the destruction he created. His body curls slightly, shoulders shaking, and for the first time, I see him truly broken. The storm is still there, but it’s quieter now, buried under grief and exhaustion.
I kneel beside him, sliding my hands into his as gently as I can. “I know,” I whisper. “I know it hurts. I know it feels like poison in your veins, like you’ve been poisoned by him, by your father, by everything. And yes… it hurts. God, I know it hurts.”
He doesn’t respond, just breathes heavily, shoulders rising and falling. His fingers curl around mine, tight and desperate. I can feel the tension in his muscles, the weight of his rage, the grief he’s been carrying alone. I press my forehead to his shoulder, murmuring softly, “But you can’t let it destroy you. You can’t let it take you from yourself.”
He shakes his head slightly, a hollow laugh escaping him. “I can’t… it’s too much. It’s always too much. And now…” His voice falters. I tighten my grip on his hands. “…and now it’s only getting worse. Everything I’ve been… everything I am… it doesn’t matter. It won’t matter soon anyway.”
“What do you mean?” I ask gently, fear clawing at my chest.
He lifts his head slowly, meeting my eyes. And for the first time in what feels like an eternity, I see something soft in his expression. The anger is still there, lurking at the edges, but the raw vulnerability eclipses it. “Iris… I’m going to die. Soon. So… what’s the point?” His voice trembles, and I feel it in my chest, a pang of helplessness that twists me.
I pull him closer, letting him lean into me. “Darian,” I whisper firmly, “there’s no need for us to talk about that right now. Not yet. We can’t control what’s coming, but right now… you’re here, and that’s what matters. You’re alive, and you’re breathing, and that’s enough for this moment.”
He presses his forehead into my shoulder, letting out a ragged breath. His body shakes against mine, and I can feel the tension slowly bleeding out of him, replaced by a brittle vulnerability that makes my heart ache. “I… I don’t know if I can face it,” he murmurs, voice raw. “I don’t know if I can face… any of it. Everything I’ve been promised, everything I’ve been told… it’s all leading to the same end.”
I tighten my arms around him. “Then let me face it with you. You don’t have to do it alone, Darian. You’ve never had to.”
He pulls back slightly, looking at me, and I can see the storm of emotions swirling in his eyes; fear, sorrow, regret, anger but underneath it all, there’s something softer, something fragile and tentative. His hand brushes against my cheek, and I shiver at the tenderness in the motion.
“Iris…” he whispers, voice barely audible. “I… I love you.”
I blink, taken aback, my chest tightening. The words are simple, but the weight behind them crushes me. I want to tell him the same, to wrap him in my arms and promise him the world, but I also know that words can’t fix what’s coming.
“I know,” I murmur, pressing my lips to his temple. “I love you too. But… don’t speak about the future, not right now. We can’t change it yet. Just… be here with me, now.”
He shakes his head slowly, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Maybe… maybe my fate isn’t to live long. Maybe… maybe I’m not meant to be king. Maybe I’m not meant to have a life beyond this pain. But I… I wanted you to know… I wanted to tell you…that I’ve fallen for you, hopelessly.”
His voice breaks, and I press my forehead to his, letting my hands cradle his face. “I know, Darian. And I hear you. But your life isn’t over yet. Whatever the future holds, whatever fate has in store, you’re not alone. Not ever, as long as I’m here.”
He closes his eyes, leaning into my hands, and I can feel the tremor of exhaustion and grief running through him. “Iris… if I can’t… if I fail… if I don’t…” His voice fades into a broken whisper, words swallowed by the storm in his chest.
I shake my head softly. “You won’t fail. You’re still here. You’re still standing, even if it doesn’t feel like it. I can’t take away your pain, Darian, but I can stand beside you while you carry it. And I will. Always.”
He opens his eyes again, just a fraction, and I see a flicker of gratitude, of relief, in his gaze. “You… you’re not afraid of me?” he asks, voice trembling.
I shake my head, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face. “No. I’m not afraid of you. Not the storm inside you. Not the grief. Not the rage. I’m here for all of it, for all of you, Darian. Even when you can’t see the light in yourself, I can.”
His lips press together, holding back something I can’t quite name. The tension in his body eases slightly, the raw edge of anger dulled by the fragile connection we share. He leans closer, letting me wrap my arms around him, and for the first time since the funeral, I feel him breathe with less urgency, less fire.
“Iris…” he whispers again, softer this time. “I don’t know how to do this… how to keep going. I don’t know if I can.”
I press my forehead to his, my voice a low, steady murmur. “You don’t have to know, Darian. You just have to keep taking one breath at a time. One moment at a time. I’ll be here. I promise. You’re not walking this path alone.”
He lets out a shaky laugh, muffled against my shoulder. “Maybe… maybe that’s the only thing I need to hear right now.”
I squeeze him, holding him tight, feeling his strength and his vulnerability collide.
He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. “Iris… I love you. Even if… even if my fate is to end soon… even if I’m not meant to be king… I… I love you. I wanted you to know.”
“I know,” I whisper, brushing a tear from his cheek. “And I love you too. That’s enough. That’s enough for now.”
He rests his forehead against mine once more, allowing himself to simply exist, to simply be. The storm hasn’t vanished completely, but it’s quieter, contained. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I see him not as the Lycan King in waiting, not as the storm of grief and rage, but as Darian, the man I love, the man I’ve been holding onto even when he couldn’t hold onto himself.