Chapter 131 131
Amarien's POV
“No.”
The word came faster this time. Cleaner. Sharper.
I did not hesitate.
“I refuse your offer,” I said, meeting her gaze without flinching. “And I refuse to marry Theron.”
I matched her masked eyes.
“There would be no covenant. No political binding!”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she did not interrupt.
“I will not trade one chain for another,” I continued, my voice steady even as my pulse raced. “If Daevir falls, it will not be because I bound myself to a man I do not love.”
The air between us shifted.
“Leave it to the gods,” I finished. “Let them decide what becomes of him. And what becomes of me.”
For a heartbeat, silence stretched.
Then her mouth curved, not in amusement this time, but in something far more brittle.
She stepped forward.
One step.
The temperature seemed to drop with it.
“You don’t know what’s coming,” she said grimly.
Her voice had lost its velvet softness. It was iron now.
“Daevir will not stop,” she continued. “Not until you are dead.”
The certainty in her tone made my stomach twist.
“He will hunt you,” she went on. “He will dismantle everything around you. He will not rest. Not after what has happened to his son.”
My throat tightened, but I refused to look away.
“And on that day,” she said, her gaze burning into mine, “when you stand alone and the walls close in… you will realize you needed Theron more than anything else.”
The words struck deeper than I wanted to admit.
But I had made my choice.
“I will not marry him,” I repeated, quieter now but no less firm.
Her expression hardened.
“Then pray your gods are kinder to you than fate has been so far,” she said.
And just like that, she turned, and she was gone.
The silence pressed in immediately.
Heavy and oppressive.
I stood there for a long moment, unmoving, shaken by what just happened.
My heart cracked with pain.
My breath faltered.
The image of Daevir’s face rose unbidden in my mind.
The last time I saw him.
The way his eyes had searched mine.
The way my heart had betrayed me by aching instead of hardening.
I had told myself I hated him.
I had clung to that hatred like armor.
It was easier than admitting the truth.
Easier than confronting the weakness that still lived inside my chest.
But when I saw him again…
When our gazes met…
Something old and stubborn had stirred.
Something that grief and rage had not fully killed.
Love.
I squeezed my eyes shut as if that could banish it.
I couldn't!
The realization was worse than any threat the Scarlet Witch had spoken of.
Daevir might hunt me.
He might destroy everything I have left.
He might be the reason my life fractured beyond repair.
And still…
Still…
A part of me loved him. Maybe it was the part that loved my dear son.
Oh, I can't tell!!!
My knees gave way before I could stop them.
I hit the ground hard. The strength I had clung to in her presence dissolved the moment I was alone.
A sob tore out of me, and I bent forward, my hands pressing against the earth as though it were the only thing holding me upright.
I was supposed to hate him.
I wanted to hate him.
It would have been easier.
But love is a cruel thing.
It lingers where it shouldn’t.
It survives where it has no right to.
I wept, kneeling there. I wept, not just for what was lost, not just for what was coming,
But for the terrible truth that despite everything…
I still love Daevir.
Daevir's POV
I burst into the court with blood still drying on my armor.
The doors slammed open under my hands, the sound cracking through the chamber like thunder. Conversations died instantly, and the scent of iron clung to me.
Zephyr was already there.
Of course he was.
He stood at the foot of the dais and bowed low, his silver hair falling forward, posture flawless as ever.
But he did not lower his eyes.
I strode past him without acknowledgment, my boots echoing sharply against the stone. My gauntlets were slick. My sword, still nicked from bone.
I did not feel the cuts.
I did not feel the bruises.
I felt only the image burning behind my eyes.
Her.
“I saw her,” I muttered, the words scraping out of me.
No one answered.
Good.
My temper was blazing with fury.
I tore off one glove and flung it across the hall. It hit a pillar and dropped uselessly to the floor.
“I saw her!” I repeated, louder this time.
Amarien.
After all these years.
She had stood there with no hint of remorse in her eyes.
No regret.
Only that cold restraint that made my heart lurch
“She looked at me,” I growled, pacing toward the side corridor that led to my private library. “And there was nothing.”
Zephyr’s footsteps followed at a measured distance.
“She has no remorse in her eyes,” I continued, my voice rising with each word. “Not a flicker!”
The memory clawed at me.
The way she held my gaze without trembling, there was no softness in her eyes anymore.
“She is probably floating with joy,” I spat, pushing open the doors to my library so hard they struck the walls, “that she got Ares. That I am paying for what I did to her!”
I grabbed the edge of a heavy oak table and flipped it. Books scattered across the stone floor in a violent rain of leather and paper.
The crash echoed.
Still, Zephyr remained bowed.
Silent.
Infuriatingly silent.
“I fought for her,” I snarled, slamming my fist into the wall.
The stone cracked under the blow.
Pain shot up my arm.I welcomed it.
“I bled for her!”
Another punch.
Dust fell from the fractured stone.
“She stands there as though I am nothing!!”
My breathing grew ragged.
The rage that had carried me through battle now turned inward, eating through muscle and bone.
I struck the wall again until the skin over my knuckles split.
Finally, exhaustion crept in.
The kind that drags behind fury once it has burned too hot for too long.
My chest heaved.
The room felt too small.
Zephyr had not moved.
He remained bowed, hands clasped before him like the picture of obedience.
The sight only irritated me further.
“Speak!” I barked.
Silence stretched.
Then…
“Which one burns more, my lord?” His voice was calm, controlled, and careful.
I turned slowly toward him.
He did not lift his head.
“Fighting a battle that leads nowhere,” he continued evenly, “or seeing the woman you love again in that battle?”
The words struck harder than any blade.
My gaze whipped to him in fury.
“You presume much,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.
He did not flinch.
“I merely observe, your majesty,” Zephyr replied.
My jaw tightened.
Love.
The word coiled in my chest like something forbidden.
I had buried it beneath anger.
Beneath justification.
Beneath the belief that she had chosen Theron over me.
But when I saw her…
When our eyes met…
The years between us had shattered.
What I had not prepared for was how my heart would react.
The way it clenched.
The way it remembered us.
“You are dismissed…” I snapped.
Zephyr bowed deeper.
“As you command.”
He turned and walked away without haste, his footsteps fading into the corridor.
I stood alone amid the wreckage of my own making.
Books scattered.
Table overturned.
The wall cracked.
My reflection caught in the dark window, blood-streaked, eyes blazing, jaw set in a mask that fooled no one.
Least of all me.
Slowly, I sank into my chair.
The leather groaned under my weight.
My fury burned inward instead of outward.
Zephyr’s words echoed in the hollow space he left behind.
Which one burns more?
I dragged a hand down my face.
And somewhere in the corner of my heart, beneath the rage flaring, beneath the pride, beneath the wounds…
The truth remained.
I still love her.