SEVENTY FOUR

SEVENTY FOUR
DIMITRI'S POV

I continued to stare at her body. I didn't know what to do. I didn't have any idea how to move on from this.

I had figured I would hurt Milana with my choice, but I didn't expect it to end up like this. I never wanted it to end like this.

"Milana," I whispered, hoping it would turn out to be just some bad dream.

"Wake up, Milana." I urged, shaking her limp body. It was stiff. Her head was blue and drained of blood.

I felt a hand grip my shoulder, and I turned to face the figure. It was Neal. He had that look on his face. The one that was supposed to tell me that everything was okay. Only this time, it wasn't fooling me.

"Dimitri, I think we should take her to the morgue."

Hearing the morgue made me visibly angry. The morgue would mean this was permanent. The morgue would mean that Milana was not coming back.

I shook my head, refusing to accept what Neal was suggesting. "No, we can't just take her to the morgue like she is some lifeless object," I snapped, my voice laced with desperation and grief. "She deserves more than that."

Neal's expression softened, understanding the depth of my pain. "I know, Dimitri, but we need to handle this properly. She cannot stay here. She is with Lycaon now."

Lycaon? I swallowed hard, trying to push down the overwhelming surge of emotions threatening to consume me. That meant it was permanent. She was completely gone, and this was a result of my selfishness.

This was all because of some...bond.

"Don't!" My beast warned. But it did not even need to speak. My conscience pricked the second that thought burned in my mind.

The bond had no part in this. I was the one who desired this. It made me think back to my family—the curse. Maybe the Galdina deserved this. Yes. Maybe the Galdina bloodline deserved to suffer. The only thing we were good at was putting others in pain.

The terminal nature of my deteriorating health has to be what it was. Karma.

"She is dead," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "But I can't bear to let her go."

Neal placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, offering silent support. "We'll take care of her, Dimitri. We'll make sure she's treated with the respect and dignity she deserves."

I nodded, reluctantly accepting Neal's words. With a heavy heart, I gently lifted Milana's lifeless body into my arms. She felt so cold and still, a stark contrast to the vibrant woman she had been in my memories.

As we made our way out of the horrifying bedroom, I couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt weighing heavily on my shoulders. It was like Milana's ghost had wrapped herself on my shoulders.

If only I had made different choices, if only I had listened to duty, perhaps she would still be alive. But now, all I could do was carry the burden of her death and try to find a way to honor her memory.

"We made a promise to ourselves to be selfish," the beast reminded me. "If we had stayed with the Lycan woman, would she be happy? Would you be happy? This suicide is a means for the cruel woman to latch on to your weak heart even after death."

I wouldn't have some animal talk about Milana like that. I put a block on the connection, and for the first time in ages, the shield I wedged did not crack.

"We are here," Neal whispered.

I looked in front of me. The Salutary center stood in front of me. The head Salutary was there with his nurses. There was a stretcher in front, too.

I knew what was to follow. Bile forced its way to my throat when I placed Milana's body on a gurney.

A wave of numbness washed over me.

It was unreal seeing her lying there, so still and peaceful as if she were simply sleeping. If I ignored the horrible twisting of her throat.

I lingered for a moment longer, unable to tear my eyes away from her face. "I'm sorry, Milana," I whispered, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

I then turned to face the Salutary. "Take care of the body like you would a Lycan noble."

The Salutary nodded. His nurses got to work, too. I watched the gurney with Milana's body get wheeled inside.

I watched the gurney until it disappeared out of my line of sight. I wasn't sure what to do after this. Was I supposed to act proper because I was King when, in truth, I was sinking in madness and rage?

"We should call her father," Neal mentioned. "The news shouldn't reach him without it coming from you."

I chuckled. It was dry and hollow. I turned to face Neal. He looked completely fine. That was the thing about Neal. He was always fine.

"How do you do it?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"How do you stay so composed?" I clarified, my voice strained with emotion. "After everything we've seen, everything we've been through, how can you just... carry on?"

Neal's expression softened, and he placed a hand on my shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. "I'm not as composed as I may appear, Dimitri," he admitted quietly. "But I've learned to compartmentalize my emotions, to push them aside when I need to focus on the task at hand."

I nodded, understanding his words but still feeling a sense of inadequacy gnawing at me from within. "I wish I could do that," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "But every time I try, it feels like I'm betraying her memory."

Neal squeezed my shoulder gently, offering silent support. "Grief is a natural response to loss, Dimitri," he said softly. "But we can't let it consume us. Milana wouldn't want that for you."

I looked up at Neal, searching his eyes to see if he was bullshitting me. He didn't seem like he was.

"Milana wouldn't want that for me?" I murmured because I felt that to be far from the truth. "She took her life, Neal. I'm sure she wants this for me."

Neal seemed to give it a thought before answering. "Then don't give it to her. If that is what you believe."

"If that is what I believe?"

"Dimitri, grief can cloud our judgment and make us believe things that aren't necessarily true," Neal replied, his voice gentle but firm. "Milana's actions were her own, influenced by her own struggles and pain. But it doesn't mean she wanted you to suffer. Killing herself out of spite just seems over the top. Nothing like her."

I sighed, wanting to believe it. But it just seemed so hard.

"How can you be so sure? You weren't there when I... When I told her we were done after five years of waiting."

"Because I knew her, Dimitri," Neal said, his tone carrying a note of sadness. "I knew her well. You did, too. And despite her shortcomings, she loved you deeply. Look at me, so you think she was the kind of woman who would weaponize her death in hopes of consuming you or defining your life?"

I looked at Neal in the eyes, expecting the words to fall out easily. But they didn't. Part of me wanted to believe him, to cling to the hope that Milana's love for me transcended a hope of hurting me. But no matter how hard I tried to stomach that lie. It wouldn't settle.

"Then why would she do it? Milana was full of life. What other than my rejection would make her do this?"

"I don't know, Dimitri," Neal replied, reaching out his hand to meet my shoulder to comfort me. "If closure is what you need. We could get a druid. I heard their connection to the spirit realm allows them to communicate with the dead."

His bad joke almost made me chuckle. A druid in the Lycan kingdom was something that would never happen. The hostility we Lycans had with werewolves was tamer compared to what we had the servants of the mad god and the reason for the Lycan curse.

"Yes, I should definitely bring a druid here and give my second cousins an opportunity to usurp my throne."

Without warning, Neal brought me in for a hug.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," he said when he broke the hug. "I could just tell you needed it."

I nodded. "Do you have any idea where Camille is? I'm sure she is as shocked as I am."

Neal shook his head. "She disappeared shortly after the body was fou—" Neal had barely gotten the words out when his phone chimed.

He took it out and glanced at the screen. I noticed the shift in his demeanor.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No," he assured, his gaze returning to me for a brief second before he turned back to the phone and began furiously typing. "A sentinel dispute, I believe. Nothing serious."

It was a lousy lie, but I decided to let it go. Neal just didn't want to trouble me, and he was capable. Whatever the issue was, he could quickly settle it.

"I have to go," he eventually said.

I nodded, understanding Neal's need to attend to his duties. "Of course, Neal. Thank you for everything."

He offered me a reassuring smile before turning to leave, his steps brisk as he slowly disappeared into the distance.

Left alone with my thoughts, I took a deep breath and made my way through the palace space, not knowing quite where I was headed.

The garden was probably the best place to start. I would be able to gather my thoughts there.

When I reached the garden, I expected it to be desolate, given the circumstances. But someone was there, staring at a small set of growing sunflowers.

"Eva?" I called out softly, uncertain if she had heard me over the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Eva turned to face me, her expression hinting at surprise. "Dimitri," she greeted, her voice barely above a whisper as she half ran to meet me.

Her eyes were red and puffy. She has been crying.

"How are you holding up?" She asked.