Chapter 70: Too Confusing

Chapter 70: Too Confusing
Chapter 70: Too Confusing

“I can not kill you,” Ikrus said finally but Aniya was too quick to respond.

“Because it is too late.”

“Because I don’t want to,” he countered and something about those words made her feel at ease but confused. “I never really wanted to.”

Very confused.

Never?

But that didn’t make any sense. He had always wanted to kill her because it was easier for him that way. Because of the agreement he had made with his father regarding his departure to the North Border. He had always told her about how he had to kill her.

Now, he claimed he had never wanted to.

Her heart filled with a trickle of sincerity. A profound genuineness, truthfulness.

Not her own.

Ikrus’s.

Aniya frowned as it dawned on her.

By Ignas.

“But I poisoned you,” her voice cut through the silence of the room. It was low but the gravity of the words it carried felt too heavy.

“And I poisoned you right back. The scales are even.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.

What was the meaning of this?

This sincerity that felt flowing through her.

These feelings.

This… this… what was this?

This vulnerability!

She couldn’t afford this. It was stupid. She was a mother! She couldn’t risk this. Any of this. She had Ignas to go back to, the people that loved her and this mark, bond, whatever it was, it was wrong.

It was making her feel vulnerable. Putting her out of her game. Making her act out of her plan.

Too much.

“I don’t want this… this thing,” she cried, her voice quivering. “It is too much for me. Take it away.” She turned in bed to look at him, “please Ikrus.”

But then she turned right in time to see him leave the bed, withdraw his warmth from her and turn to his back to her. His feelings in her veins had vanished too, like they were never there. She felt a sense of hollowness, as if the space his feelings had occupied in her was normal and now that they had been pulled away, it just felt wrong.

It was confusing.

Everything was so confusing.

“Ikrus…”

He said nothing.

She called him again but he did not answer.

His steps were slower than usual as he continued to walk away from her. Till he got to the doorstep of his study. He stayed there for a moment, with his hand on the doorknob and she thought that he would look at her, even a glance. But he pushed the door open, vanished into his study and closed the door firmly behind him.

Something about that made Aniya cry even more. She hugged Arlo to herself and wept.

It would have been better if he had lashed out at her, if he had been angry, if he had promised to hurt her, do something, anything.

It would have been better.

Because she knew what to do with those kind of feelings. She knew how to react, how to plan ahead in response.

But what was she supposed to do with silence? With genuineness? With her own vulnerability?

She had just tried to kill him and this was all he would do to her?

By Ignas, what was she supposed to do with this?

Aniya continued to cry, until exhaustion finally captured every part of her and sent her to sleep.

—-
—-

Aniya woke up to the sun seeping in through the curtains. She blinked a couple of times before she sat up quickly.

The sun was up! This up!

She had woken up terribly late.

How dare she do that when she knew she wasn’t in a safe environment? Who sleeps comfortably when in the environment of a person they had attempted to kill?

Her son!

Her son!

She looked around the bed for Arlo but couldn’t find him.

Where was Arlo?

She staggered off the bed quickly, scared that he had rolled to the ground in his sleep.

But he wasn’t on the floor.

Her stomach dropped.

Ikrus had done something to her son while she was asleep—- Ikrus had—-

“Good afternoon, Kharesh.”

Aniya staggered, shocked to see Ikrus standing behind her.

Even more shocked to see Arlo in his arms, smiling, in fresh clothes and seemingly well fed.

She instinctively reached forward to take her son from him, but he instead anchored his hand around her waist and pulled her closer, so she shad nowhere to look but up at him.

“No good afternoon for your mate?”

Anita’s heart raced, her skin prickling with sensations at their point of contact.

She frowned. She had just tried to kill him last night. Now he was here, taking care of her son and smiling down at her as if they had the best night together.

Memories of their intimate moments flashed in her mind and a warmness spread across her. A devilish smile crossed his lips.

He had sensed that.

She frowned, trying to pull her feelings away from him.

She gulped, trying to shake off the thoughts and the effects they were having on her.

“Good afternoon. I want my son,” the words tumbled right out of her mouth.

“And you will have him.” Ikrus leaned closer, so close she could see the sparkle in his dark eyes. What was wrong with him?

“But first we have something very important to talk about.”

Anita’s heart raced.

Finally.

He was going to tell her what he had in store for her and her son.

Of course he was happy because of that.

What a twisted monster.

She nodded, because her words were failing her. The urge to pull him into an embrace felt overpowering. She wanted to kiss him too.

Wanted?

No.

It was this… bond.

Yes, it was the bond!

She was certain that when he was done, telling her bluntly, as he always did, about how he was now back to his senses and wanted very much to kill her, she would finally be able to hate him fully again.

Her hands were still hanging in the air, and a sudden urge to drop them to his shoulders and pull him closer so she could feel his lips on hers and—-

No! No!

Her hands dropped to her sides immediately and she clenched her fists, looking away. Rage filled her, at herself. Still that rage didn’t feel enough.

She needed to get away from him. Away from this hand around her waist. This warm reassuring presence around her.

She needed to think, by Ignas! Away from him!

“Speak, Ikrus. We don’t have all day.”

His hand held up her chin to look up at him and now she had more feelings to battle with.

“We need to speak about our Joining Ceremony.”

What?