Chapter 29 He hates me now
Aurora's POV:
I sat in the middle of the sprawling silk bed, the silence of the room pressing against my eardrums like a physical weight. Why? Why did something catastrophic always seem to happen the moment we let our guards down? Every time we shared ourselves, every time we slept together and felt a moment of peace, the world outside seemed to splinter into pieces. Was the Moon Goddess punishing us for trying to find comfort in each other? Was I a curse on his life, or was he a curse on mine?
I wasn't supposed to fall in love. I had told myself that a thousand times. I came here for revenge. I came for a way out of my misery. I came to find a weapon. But now, as I stared at the empty, cold space beside me where he should have been, I realized I had lost the most dangerous thing of all: my detachment. If he rejects me in four days during the ceremony, I won't just lose a crown or a title; I’ll lose the only soul who ever bothered to look at the girl beneath the stripper’s glitter and the scars.
"Where are you?" I whispered to the empty air of the bedroom. "Please, just be safe."
Then, it hit me.
A sudden, sharp bolt of agony lanced through my chest. it was so intense that my breath hitched and my vision blurred. It wasn't my pain—I knew that instantly. It was his. It felt like being crushed under a mountain. I felt the heat of fire licking at my lungs, and the sickening scent of burning rubber and gasoline filled my nostrils as if I were standing right there. I doubled over, clutching my stomach, a silent scream dying in my throat. Something was wrong. Something was horribly, deathly wrong with my husband.
"Elio! Kelvin!" I scrambled off the bed toward the door, pounding on the heavy oak with my fists. "Please open the door! I need to check on my mate! Something is happening to him! I can feel it!"
The locks finally clicked open, and I didn't wait for an explanation or a greeting. I sprinted down the grand staircase, my bare feet slapping against the cold, hard stone. I burst through the palace gates just as a sleek black machine—a human car, not a carriage—screeched to a halt in the courtyard, its tires smoking.
Dust and grey smoke billowed from the vehicle. Men in human suits scrambled out, their faces covered in soot and grime. I saw Calus first. His clothes were torn to shreds, and his arm was hanging at an awkward, broken angle. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird as I searched the group for the one face I needed to see.
Then, he stepped out.
Deacon looked terrible. His face was a mask of soot and dried blood, and his expensive human clothes were shredded. But it was his eyes that stopped me in my tracks. They weren't that glowing, fierce gold I had grown used to; they were a flat, stony, lifeless grey. He looked right through me, hiding his pain behind a wall of ice. He didn't stop to greet me. He didn't even acknowledge that I had been standing there, waiting for him in the freezing night air, trembling with worry.
He walked right past me. His pace was brisk and mechanical, as if I were nothing more than a statue in his garden.
"Deacon!" I called out, turning quickly to follow him. "Deacon, wait! Talk to me!"
I tried to keep up, but they were wolves. even when they were injured, their strides were long and fueled by a primal power I hadn't yet mastered. They vanished into the upper wings of the palace, always two steps ahead of me, leaving me gasping for air in the hallway. They were so lucky, I thought bitterly. They had their power to carry them through. I only had my fear.
I stumbled back, nearly tripping over my own feet, until a pair of steady hands caught my shoulders. It was Kelvin, one of the younger palace guards.
"Kelvin," I gasped, clutching his sleeve as if it were a lifeline. "Do you know what's going on? Why is he acting like that? Why won't he even look at me?"
Kelvin looked toward the stairs with a worried frown, his expression pitying. "I heard they had an accident in the human world, Luna. An explosion. The reports say nobody was seriously hurt, but the Alpha sustained a small injury. He’s likely just in a state of shock from the crash. You have nothing to worry about. Go back to bed."
"Nothing to worry about?" I echoed, my voice rising in frustration.
If he were strong, if he still had his full Alpha healing, a "small injury" would have been gone in a heartbeat. He wouldn't be covered in blood and soot. But I knew the truth that Kelvin didn't. I knew his skin wasn't knitting back together like it used to. I knew he was becoming mortal because of me.
I ignored Kelvin’s reassurances and ran toward the King's private wing. My chest still throbbed with the ghost of his pain, a dull ache that wouldn't go away. I reached his heavy chamber doors and raised my hand to knock, my heart up in my throat.
"Deacon? It's me, Aurora. Please, let me in. I felt you... I felt the accident. I know you're hurting."
There was a long, suffocating silence from behind the door. Then, a voice boomed from the other side—a voice so cold and filled with such raw, jagged venom that I recoiled as if he had actually slapped me across the face.
"Aurora, get the fuck away from my door!" Deacon roared. "And leave my room for the servants to clean afterward. I don't want to see your face tonight!"
I stood there frozen, my hand still raised in the air, ready to knock again. The rejection felt sharper than any knife Thorne could have ever used. He was hurting, he was bleeding, and yet his first instinct was to cast me aside like a piece of trash—like the "toy" the Elders always claimed I was.
I looked down at my hands, which were trembling with a mixture of deep grief and mounting, hot fury. He wanted to push me away? He wanted to go back to being the cold, heartless Hollow King?
Fine. But he forgot one very important thing. I was a Lieu. And we don't back do
wn from a fight especially not with a man who thinks he can break my heart and survive the night.