Chapter 248

He wrestles with himself, but the pain reflected in me forces his decision. His eyes turn white, small veins of the same color spread across the contours of his face and the rest of his body. The air crackles with barely contained energy. I lower my gaze to my little one, waiting for any moment when life will flood her again, for the color to return to her cheeks and her blue eyes to look at me as if I’m her whole world.

Minutes pass and nothing changes.

I turn my attention back to Azeroth, his appearance returned to normal. He shakes his head. My lips tremble as I try to hold back the sob tearing me apart from the inside. I fail. My scream is visceral, ripping from my core as my whole body shakes, breaking piece by piece.

The ground beneath my knees trembles.

It’s Cassian’s pain, which I can feel inside me too, making survival almost impossible. Every breath hurts.

In this world where life is anything but normal, even we expect to follow the laws of nature. It is not natural for a parent to lose a child. It is not natural for parents to outlive their offspring.

“Why?” I manage to force the words from my mouth, shards of glass scraping my throat. “Why can’t you bring her back?”

Azeroth crouches beside me and places his hand on my shoulder, as if that could erase the pain.

“I don’t know, daughter. The threads of her soul are severed, and I can’t weave them back together.”

Evren cries in Nymera’s arms, as if she knows the one she came into this world with has now left, as if she feels the same void I feel.

The tears keep sliding down my cheeks, plunging off the cliff of my chin. I don’t care how dangerous they may be, I couldn’t hold them back even if my life depended on it. Come to think of it, life hasn’t been kind to me, maybe I don’t want to keep playing its game. Maybe I don’t want to stay here.

Other tears that are not mine fall against my face. With a tremor he can’t hide, Cassian caresses our daughter’s cheek. The streams run freely down his face, and when we look at each other, I know we are both feeling each other’s torment. He embraces me, and I bury my face in his chest, wishing it could be a comfort. The shaking of his shoulders splits me open. I can’t breathe.

“It’s my fault. I failed to protect you,” he mutters.

I press the hand not holding Bryelle against his chest.

“Don’t you dare carry this guilt,” I say, rage in my voice. Not at him, but at this cruel life.

The sound of footsteps draws our attention to the doorway, where Tharion looks at us with sad eyes. I wonder if he understands the gravity of this. At his side, his father gives us a look brimming with regret.

I feel the shift in Cassian’s emotions, from deep grief to rawest rage. He rises, tearing away from the warmth only his body could give me, and charges at Zerion. He grabs the collar of his shirt with both hands and yanks him close until there are barely inches between them.

“Why is my daughter dead?” He shakes him. “Why is my daughter dead while your son doesn’t have a single scratch? You had one job! Just one! Protect them with your life!”

“Do you think I didn’t try?” the golden-eyed vampire retorts. “They were after them, Cassian. The fact that Evren still breathes is a miracle. They slaughtered everyone in their path.”

“How?” I ask. “How did they do it?”

Bryelle’s body is unmarked; there’s no wound, no clue to help me understand why my little girl isn’t breathing.

“Kaelric got into the baby’s mind. He must have forced her into a nightmare and her body… her body couldn’t withstand it. A mind so young, only days old, couldn’t survive something like that.”

“It was deliberate,” Azeroth adds. “They did it to hurt you, to make you lose control. You must think with a cold head.”

“Cold blood?” I snarl. “They stole my daughter! Do you think I can see past the red haze of the blood I want to spill?”

I look at Cassian, who stares at Zerion’s son as if killing him might bring our daughter back. With Bryelle’s body still in my arms, I move closer to him and caress his forearm. Tears burn my eyes, hot and furious.

“We can’t lose more innocent lives.”

The pain leaks through every word.

I close my eyes, trying to gather myself, and glance at the others in the hut.

“But we can end the ones responsible for this.” My heart clenches. “I don’t want to wait any longer, I want them dead. Every last one of them. I want to hear their screams, I want to see the terror in their eyes.”

“You’ll have it,” Cassian and my father vow at once.

“Luois and the others are on their way.”

“How long?”

“A few hours.”

“I could bring them,” Azeroth offers.

“No,” I cut him off. “I need… to think.”

Everyone knows the truth. I need these hours to weep before battle. None of the tears I shed will close the wound, nor do I expect them to. Slowly, they leave the room, until only my father remains. Even Cassian seems to need a moment to himself. For an instant, I fear this will close him off in his pain, that he will never let me in again. I wonder if I’ve lost him too.

“Where is she?” I ask. “Has she crossed over?”

The silence stretches longer than I’d like.

“She’s with me,” Azeroth finally says. The sound that leaves my torn throat is the closest thing to astonishment. “She is in the same place where you once were.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can’t I see her?”

He shakes his head.

“Will you watch over her?”

“Every second.” He extends his hands toward me. “You must give her to me, Elara.”

“Why?”

“It will be better if her body goes with her, her soul will have a place to take refuge.”

I look one last time at Bryelle’s little face, with her round, pale cheeks and lips that have already lost their rosy color. Again, my heart contracts, and a sob climbs my throat unchecked. My eyes flood with tears, and when I place her onto Azeroth’s strong hands, I have to look away so as not to be consumed by this pain. I can’t, not yet.

When this is over, maybe there won’t be any strength left in me to go on. Maybe I’ll look for a way to end myself, but until then, I’ll seek vengeance.

Bryelle’s body fades away bit by bit like tiny stars vanishing into the distance.

“She was light, and light she shall remain.”

I collapse to the ground, this time with no arms to catch me. I feel the worst kind of cold—the one no embrace can warm.