Chapter Sixty-Nine – Sacred Confrontation
Cass remained half-submerged in the warm mineral waters, her skin still slick with sacred oils as the grotto settled into a hush. The laughter and low murmur of the court women faded into a distant hum as Eira waded closer, the water parting softly around her lithe figure.
"You think hiding behind silence makes you stronger?" Eira asked, her voice low but laced with tension. "It makes you a coward."
Cass turned her head slowly. "You don’t know me."
"Don’t I?" Eira said, moving until they were almost shoulder to shoulder. "I watched you claw your way out of a brothel. I admired you. I even felt sorry for you. But now? I see the truth. You'd rather let him burn than let him go."
Cass’s jaw clenched, her voice taut. "You want a blessing? You want me to hand over a man who never really belonged to me? Fine. Take it. Take all of him. Just don’t come crying when you realize he only gives you half."
Eira laughed bitterly. "You’re so damn sure you’re the only one he’s ever loved. But maybe love isn’t supposed to leave you hollow. Maybe you’re just his favorite poison."
Cass’s voice dropped, dangerous and quiet. "And maybe you’re just the antidote he’s using to forget me."
They locked eyes—two women bound by fate, pulled by love, and drowning in resentment. The grotto felt suddenly too warm, too heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.
Eira’s hand trembled as she reached for the edge of the pool. "He was mine once. Before the bond. Before all this madness. I didn’t want it—not at first. I fought it, ran from it. But now I feel it. I feel him. Every breath he takes. Every time he breaks for you."
Cass leaned in, her voice a razor's edge. "Then maybe you should ask yourself why he still breaks. Why he came to my chambers like a storm that couldn’t be held back. Why he kissed me like he was dying and made me come undone in ways your neat little bond never could."
She turned her face to Eira, inches from hers now, voice low and venomous. "He told me he wanted to understand what we were. That he still felt me. That no matter what path he walked, he couldn’t stop looking back. And I let him touch me. I let him fall apart in my arms because that’s where he always returns when the world becomes too much. So ask yourself this, Eira—when he almost took you in the woods, when his hands were on your skin, was he thinking of me? Or are you just hoping he wasn’t?"
The silence that followed was absolute.
Around them, the women of the court began to sing again, voices rising in harmony, unaware that beneath the holy waters, war had already begun.
Eira stood abruptly, the water cascading from her body in ripples as she stepped out of the pool, her expression unreadable. Without another word, she turned and strode away, leaving behind the warmth of the sacred grotto and the sharp ache Cass’s words had carved into her.
Fueled by hurt and humiliation, Eira wandered the winding halls of the castle until she found herself outside Caius's quarters. She didn’t knock—she pushed the door open with force, slamming it shut behind her.
Caius stood by the window, looking out over the dusk-drenched gardens, but turned sharply at the sound. "Eira?"
"Did you touch her?" she demanded, her voice tight with fury. "Did you go to her?"
Caius's eyes narrowed. "What did she tell you?"
"Enough," Eira snapped, stepping forward, her body still damp from the springs. "Enough to know that I’m a fool for thinking you ever truly let her go."
Caius raked a hand through his hair, tension lining his jaw. "I didn’t mean for it to happen. I was angry. Confused."
"You were with me in the woods!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "You were about to take me. Was she in your head then too?"
He didn’t answer. That silence burned hotter than any confession.
Eira’s lip trembled before she steeled herself. "Tell me the truth, Caius. Was I ever anything more than a distraction to you?"
Caius's breath caught in his throat. He turned fully toward her, the moonlight catching the flicker of torment in his eyes. "No," he said finally, his voice low and sharp. "You weren’t the chaos—Cass is. And I’m addicted to it. I’ve tried to drown her out with you. I’ve tried to pretend I could feel the same with you that I feel when she so much as walks into a room. But it’s a lie."
He stepped closer, his jaw tight. "You were comfort, Eira. But she’s fire. And no matter how many times I burn, I keep going back to the flame. I don’t want to. I hate it. But I love her so much it’s killing me."
He ran a hand through his hair, the pain twisting his features. "You want the truth? I would’ve torn down the gods themselves if she asked me. I would’ve watched the world bleed to keep her safe. You were never a distraction. You were a reprieve. But I’ve been holding my breath this whole time—because I never stopped needing her to breathe."
He took a slow step forward. "But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still ache for her. I don’t understand it. I don’t want it. But it’s there. You… you make me feel like I can breathe again, Eira. But she makes me feel like I’m drowning and begging for air at the same time."
He looked away, ashamed. "I wanted to choose you. I tried. But my heart keeps breaking in the shape of her name. I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know how to stop it."
His voice cracked at the end, the truth like blood on his tongue.