Chapter 78: A heavy kind of truth

Ciel’s words lingered long after he said them, even as silence returned to the hallway. The weight they carried refused to leave me.

“Because Elara is hurt right now, and you don’t want to add salt to her wounds.”

At first, I didn’t get it. A part of me wanted to argue-- to tell him that I only wanted to comfort Elara, not cause her any hurt. I wanted to share the pain instead of hiding from it. But as I stood there, with his voice echoing in my head, the truth slowly began to sink in.

Elara wasn’t thinking straight right now; none of us were…

Even I, for all my supposed empathy, couldn’t deny the storm brewing inside me. Guilt, grief, anger, to say the least, all twisted together into something ugly in my heart. Something that made me resent myself for still being alive.

And it only made sense that if I could feel this way about myself… then what about Elara whose husband had just died.

The thought made my chest ache.

It wasn’t fair, but it was human. Even the kindest heart could falter when grief demanded a place to land. I thought about her face in that room, the way she clung to the hope that Icarus’ death wasn’t true. Denial etched in her whole being.

Her gaze had seemed lost, as though she was staring at her mate’s lifeless body, begging him to wake up even when she knew he couldn’t.

Not even an angel could walk through that kind of pain and not lose themselves for a moment. And without doubt, deep down, a part of her blames me just as I did myself.

After all, it’s the truth. Maybe Icarus would still be alive if he hadn’t gotten close to me, nor tried to protect me back there.

The thought felt fair, but the realization stung worse than anything.

My eyes dropped to the cold floor beneath me. I could almost see the faint reflection of my own tired face in it. And I felt like I probably wouldn’t recognize the girl reflected in it if I could see the reflection.

Ciel must’ve seen my expression twist because his tone softened as he interjected. “Alyssa,” he said quietly, his voice low and deliberate. “Don’t do that.”

I looked up at him, not confused but still... “Do what?”

“Don’t start blaming yourself again,” He leaned a little closer, his gaze steady. “Although it’s normal to feel that way right now, it doesn’t mean you deserve it. Doesn’t mean you should drown in it.”

I wanted to believe him. I wanted his words to wash it all away. But they didn’t.

They just sat there, warm but distant, like sunlight I could see but couldn’t feel.

“I know,” I whispered, though my voice betrayed the lie in it. “I just… can’t stop thinking about what she must be feeling.”

Ciel sighed quietly. “You can always feel it with her. Blaming yourself won’t help neither of you out in the end.”

His words were firm, but not unkind. There was something almost protective in the way he said them. I realized then that he wasn’t just thinking about Elara’s grief, he was thinking about mine too.

I nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The hallway had gone still again, the world holding its breath as though afraid to intrude. I could still hear the faint hum of the dim lights as time passed by.

The silence was deafening yet calming. However, inside my heart, it was chaos.

Even as I tried to accept what Ciel had said, the guilt wouldn’t let go. It hung on me like a second shadow, whispering that I didn’t belong here…

That every tragedy around me had my name stitched into it.

I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling out of place even in my own skin.

Ciel must’ve noticed once again. He always did.

But he stayed quiet this time, for a long while. He just stood in silence with me with that unreadable look of his-- calm on the surface, but with something sharp buried deep underneath. Then, after what felt like forever, he broke the silence.

“How did you even get to Icarus’s place, Alyssa? What the hell happened?”

The question caught me off guard.

I blinked and turned to him, my mind struggling to catch up.

He tilted his head slightly. “When I left for town, you were still in the packhouse.  So how did you end up in Icarus’s home?”

My breath hitched. I hadn’t expected him to actually have been unaware of what had happened. Ciel really wasn’t in the packhouse when I’d been kicked out. It felt like a relief knowing he played no part in that, but still, that didn’t ease the hurt of it all.

But now, all of his confusion made sense. He’d left for town, so he didn’t’t know what transpired between me and the pack afterwards.

I lowered my gaze, the air tightening around me again.

How was I supposed to explain it? The betrayal? The accusations? The way everyone in the pack had turned their eyes away from me while I was accused of causing Michael’s death…

I exhaled slowly. “You’re right,” I said faintly. “When you left, I stayed in your room for a while… but it didn’t take long before everything fell apart.”

Ciel frowned, his attention sharpening.

“They blamed me, Ciel.” My voice trembled despite myself. “Gamma Jerome and the elders — they said I caused Michael’s death. That I… that I sent him to his doom.”

Ciel’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “What?”

I nodded weakly, forcing the words out. “Jan told them she saw us kiss.” I didn’t care about that now, it was the least of my worries.

He froze.

“She said I wanted Michael out of the way… that I’d lured him into danger so I could be with you.” My throat tightened painfully.

For a long moment, Ciel said nothing. His silence was worse than any curse. His hand balled into a fist at his side, and I could see the pulse in his neck flicker.

“And they kicked you for that?” His voice was low, dangerously calm as he added in detail, guessing what had happened.

I nodded. “They didn’t even let me explain. I was thrown out before I knew it. I didn’t have anywhere to go but find my way back to town… That was when Icarus came to find me on the road.”

Just saying his name made my voice break.

“He was on his bike,” I continued, trying to hold myself together. “He offered to take me back to my apartment in town. I didn’t know we were heading to his place instead. I didn’t even realize something was wrong until I saw Elara, Zias, and those betas. Icarus had told me he’d taken Elara and Zias out of town before…”

Ciel’s eyes widened slightly, but I didn’t give him time to speak. The words were spilling out of me now the memory clawing its way to the surface whether I liked it or not.

“It seemed they’d been holding them hostage. The whole story about him witnessing Michael’s death was a lie they made him tell. And to finally get rid of me, they made him deliver me to the betas to be killed. But then, he…” My voice cracked again. “ He fought them all just to give us a chance to escape.”

I closed my eyes, the tears stinging again despite how many I’d already shed tonight. “He should’ve run with us. I begged him to. But he just smiled and told me to take Elara and Zias first. Said he’d catch up--”

Ciel’s hand rose not to stop me, but to rest gently on my arm. His touch was steady, grounding.

“ All while he knew he wasn’t coming back,” I whispered.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Ciel didn’t say anything. His expression had gone dark again, his jaw set tight like he was holding back something violent. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but carried a weight that made my stomach twist.

“They’ll pay for that,” he said simply.

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes.

There was no hesitation there. Only a cold, calm fury that I’d seen before. The same one he’d worn when he’d sworn he’d find whoever was behind Michael’s death.

But this time, it was even heavier. Perhaps because now he knew who it was.

“Ciel…” I started, but the words fell apart.

He shook his head, indicating that I’d said just enough.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. There was nothing left to say.

The silence between us stretched again, only this time it wasn’t empty. It was filled with all the things we couldn’t say aloud. The guilt, the grief, the thin thread of understanding that somehow bound us together through it all.

I drew in a deep breath and looked at the door again. The sobs behind it had faded now, replaced by a heavy quiet. I remembered his warning, and couldn’t help but ask.

“Do you think she’ll ever not look at me as the reason she lost her family?” I asked quietly.

Ciel followed my gaze but didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was calm, almost tender.

“She will,” he said. “Maybe not today. Maybe not soon. But… she will. Because deep down, Elara knows you didn’t do this.”

I nodded slowly, though I wasn’t sure I believed it. Still, his words were something to hold onto-- a fragile kind of hope.

As we stood there, side by side in that dimly lit hallway, I realized that everything from this point forward would never be the same again. Not for Elara. Not for me. Not for any of us.