I missed him

I missed him
Avaris

I woke up with the impression that I had been thrust into another person's body.

Everything was sore: my ribs, my spine, even the parts of me that weren’t supposed to feel pain anymore. I felt as though my breath belonged to an older person, and my skin was cold from perspiration.

An older person who had died and come back wrong.

The space was dim. It was muted rather than dark, as if it was trying not to frighten me. The walls were unfamiliar to me. There was a basin by the wall and a chair by the bed. Curtains that swayed just slightly, as if the wind had come in to check on me and decided I wasn’t worth waking fully.

But I was already awake, too awake to realize the wrongness of this situation.

I was struck by the memories like a flood with no shore to cling to.

Xaren.

Gods, Xaren.

His words, his silence, and his deceptive lies veiled in goodwill. The way he looked at me when I asked if what Callum just said was true, and gave me nothing but betrayal.

I’d trusted him. He had the closest relationship with Dyvian, so I would have bled for him. And throughout it all, he was among the hands wielding the knife that had harmed my life and would undoubtedly do so indefinitely.

And still, that wasn’t the worst of it.

No. The worst was the truth.

That my mother’s soft lullabies, my father’s constant vigilance, my brother’s cold distance, none of it had been indifference. I was not being pushed away by them. I was being protected by them. The only way they could show me their love was by erecting physical barriers around me.

And I…

I never said thank you. I never even understood. I was mean, I hated them, hated myself for becoming a part of the family.

My throat ached, but I refrained from crying. My cheek's curve was traced by a single, silent tear that seemed to have found its proper place. Like it knew where the pain lived.

I tried to sit up.

A big mistake.

My muscles ached and felt lethargic, as if I had been asleep for centuries rather than hours. My hands trembled as I pushed against the mattress, trying to remember how to move, how to be.

Angel of Kindness.

That’s what Callum called me now.

What a cruel, cruel title.

It sounded beautiful on the surface, almost poetic. But based on the stories I had heard from Callum, I knew better. I knew what it really meant. The key to awakening Lucifer. The weapon dressed as a blessing. The reason they died.

The reason my family died.

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. It grounded me, anchored me to the moment, to the guilt that sat heavy on my ribs like a second spine.

They were gone.

And it was because of me.

Not because I failed. But because I existed.

I reached for the edge of the bed, gripping it like a lifeline. My legs didn’t want to obey me either, but I forced them to dangle over the side. The floor was cold. My breath fogged faintly in the air.

I hated it.

I hated how the world kept going. I wanted someone to blame.

But there was no one left.

Except me.

"Avaris?!"

A loud voice slashed through the silence like a blade.

I blinked and the door flung open with heavy footsteps resounding in the room. And there he was.

Crown Prince Theodore.

It was not a dream or vision, like the one I described, that caused my mind to fog up.

It was him in person, tall, regal, and slightly disheveled, as if he had hurried here faster than his title permitted. His dark hair clung to his temples and his breathing was uneven.

He looked… terrified.

Had he saved me?

Had he been the one to pull me from the edge of whatever nightmare had swallowed me whole?

From Callum?

My heart thudded painfully against my chest, too many questions sprinting through my mind.

What happened to Xaren? Did Dyvian… know? About the betrayal? Or worse, was he part of it?

My thoughts were like wildfire, despite my best efforts to quiet them. I vowed to keep Dyvian out of my thoughts and to keep him out of this delicate space where my mind was already breaking down.

With the house, the fictitious freedom, and the business I pretended to care about, I had convinced myself that I had a new life.

But I was lying to myself. And I knew it.

I missed him.

Gods, I missed him.

I missed his voice. His body next to mine. His eyes that always looked like they’d seen the end of the world and somehow still chose me.

My throat closed. I didn’t know what I was feeling, grief, guilt, anger, longing. Maybe all of it. Maybe nothing at all.

And before I could say a word, Theodore crossed the room and pulled me into a hug.

He encircled me with his arms as though he was terrified that if he let go, I would vanish. I could feel his body trembling even though his armor was pressing against my skin.
And I swear… I heard it.

A sniff from him and a hitch in his breath.

The Crown Prince was crying.

For me.

I should’ve said something. I should’ve hugged him back. But I just sat there, limp and hollow, staring over his shoulder like a man who had run out of exits.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, pulling back to search my face.

His eyes were red-rimmed. His voice strained, careful like he thought I might shatter if he spoke too loudly.

Was I okay?

I didn’t even know what okay was supposed to mean anymore.

I parted my lips, but the words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t lie. I couldn’t say yes.

So I said the only thing that felt true.

“…You found me.”

Dyvian didn't.