Chapter 83 Chapter 82
Evelyn.
"For a long time, they blamed me for her death." The anguish in his voice was evident, but I couldn't take my gaze away from the ground. I felt him move and I flinched, unbiddenly taking a step back.
"I grew up with the immense guilt of being my mother's killer and bore everyone's hatred for me. In a way, my father suffered her loss but he had very different way of letting me know." He said, his voice tinged with sardonic amusement.
I managed to look up at him then and what I sent shivers down my spine. Reminscing about the past had caused him to look more distraught, his face clouded over with pain.
"He spent a good portion of his life, reminding me of how much of a weakling I was and made sure he spelt it out on me everytime he got the chance. So much that..." He trailed off, and his eyes watered. Blinking it back, he continued speaking, his voice stronger. "So much that, he had it written out on my chest."
Slowly, deliberately, he peeled off the layers of his clothing till his chest was laid bare. Even in the dim lighting, I could still see it clearly, the word 'weakling' written in bold letters, seared into his flesh. I couldn't tear my eyes from the scars etched upon his body, my mouth falling open in shock.
The tales of his past were like a chilling narrative of agony and cruelty, and I felt an overwhelming mix of horror and sorrow for the pain he had endured. As he recounted his journey, the pain in his voice was a haunting echo of the past. His confession about not wishing for a mate, followed by his initial intention to kill me, tore at my heart.
He wore his clothes back and continued speaking, his voice surprisingly blank. "The taller, I grew, the more intense his anger became. And it was I who bore it all." He took steps, getting closer and I found myself unable to move from the spot where I was rooted in. "He loved his whips, so he used them everyday until every part of my body until the skin tore off. Nothing I did pleased him. Absolutely nothing. Everywhere I went, their words were the same. I was a good-for-nothing miscreant who should have died in place of my mother. If only it stopped there."
"I became older and my father found incredibly dark ways to extract enjoyment from my suffering. He'd prepare sick games and have me compete with people after severely weakening. My life was always in a kill or be killed situation and if I didn't satisfy him, punishment awaited." Tilting my head to face him, he bored into my eyes, eyes glowering as he added. "I spent more time getting tortured inside this walls than I did anywhere else this palace or kingdom. Anywhere else."
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would escape. I snapped it shut, tears streaming down my cheeks as I stared at him. He let go of my chin, walking a considerable distance away from me. The weight of his revelations sent shivers down my spine. I could hardly comprehend the pain he'd endured. Yet, he wasn't done.
"Going through such unspeakable tortures, the last thing I wanted was a mate," he confessed, and my heart wrenched. "My original intention was to kill whoever it was if I did have one. But when I did, I couldn't bring myself to." His words were filled with a raw honesty that left me stunned. "Despite everything, what did she do in return? She died and that's my fault?!" He snapped, his voice rising.
I bit back a whimper, burying my face into my hands as I cried out. This was too much. This suffering was too much!
"Finally, you." He said, turning to look at me and I was compelled to gaze at him through my bleary gaze. his voice was lower, colder. "You planned to kill me. And honestly, I can't even blame you for it. My deepest regret remains the fact that you should have gone through with it." Kieran's voice was filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger as he spoke, and I couldn't bear it any longer. Remorse washed over me, and I couldn't hold back the tears.
My own actions, my misguided plot to end his life, had been born from a lack of understanding, from the belief that I was taking vengeance on a monster. The revelation of his past and the sincerity in his voice left me stunned and remorseful. I had pushed him to this point, and it was a burden I couldn't bear.
"I didn't mean to," I pleaded, my voice trembling. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing. Please, forgive me." I cried, unable to see past my heartache, my sorrow for this man who had been through so much than I could ever fathom.
He walked up to me again, staring at my face. "I don't know if I should believe you. For all I know, you could use this against me. You hate me."
"Not this much! Not this way!" I screamed, shaking my head vigorously. "Not... After this. Please, I just want to..." I trailed off, unable to form sentences. "I just want another chance. Another attempt at this. I'll do anything. Just give me another chance." I begged. I stared into his eyes and what I saw, mauled my already shattered heart to fine dust. His haggard face, the unbelief in his eyes, the stark fear and distrust.
"You'll do... Anything?" He growled and I nodded, hurriedly wiping off the tears on my face. In one swift movement, he was in front of me, grabbing me by my neck, his face dangerously close to mine as his eyes glinted so many different colors, colors that had me transfixed, marveling in it. His hot breath on my forehead, he brought his head closer to the side of my face.
"I'll accept your apology..." He growled into my ears, biting my earlobe and I squirmed in pain... And something else. "After you have served your punishment. His response was a promise of punishment and an exploration of dark desires. He tore the clothes off my body, leaving me naked and exposed for his eyes and I held my breath.
Restraining me on the cross like restraint , he smashed his lips on mine, pushing his tongue into my mouth, his scalding kiss igniting a storm of emotions within me.
"I hope you're ready for all of it. Because, there's no way in hell or heaven that I'm going to be gentle." He growled into my lips and gasped, my body thrumming with fear and anticipation. This room, with its oppressive history, is about to become a canvas for the emotions and desires that bound us together.