VALORIA WILDEROSE
My heart sinks painfully and sothing sickening settles in my chest while he looks at .
I bite my lips.
The question burns on my tongue, but I have to ask it.
"Is that why you’ve been nice to ? Why you have this unexplainable fancy, as you call it, for ? Because my eyes remind you of hers?"
My world begins to spin and collapse as I unravel another one of his lies piece by piece.
I grow even sicker, wanting to puke.
He looks shocked and offended again.
"It’s not because you have the sa eyes."
But I don’t believe him.
How can I? Everything he’s said and done suddenly feels tainted by the ghost of a woman who’s been dead for centuries.
I throw the blanket off of after breaking free and rising to my feet. Hands reach out to stop , but I maneuver away from them, refusing to be near him right now.
Everything hurts, but this ti I maintain my balance without falling and look at him once I’m far enough.
"You just said it now. Your eyes said more than enough. Even that night you looked at , except it wasn’t you were looking at. It was her."
I’m acting like a schoolgirl who just got her heart broken even though it doesn’t make sense.
I can’t help but be hurt at the possibility that every good thing between us was really just him searching for her.
Every stolen glance. Every teasing remark. Every mont I thought was ant for .
"I’m just so replacent for your dead first love that helped curse you. Soone you haven’t gotten over."
"Valoria."
"Is that why you wanted to turn into a Lycan? You couldn’t make her into one of your zombies, so you’re trying to do the sa thing with ?"
He’s taken aback more than I am the mont I say those words without thinking. Then he looks at like I’ve stabbed him in the heart with a blade already.
I’m struck by guilt that swiftly swallows every bit of my unreasonable anger, forcing to see clearly just how far I’ve reached in my accusations.
"And I thought I was the cruel one between the both of us. But you have beaten this ti," he whispers through a small smile.
Suddenly I wish I could take it back and actually hear him out, but it’s too late.
Silence engulfs the both of us. No one says another word. especially—I’m forced to be more cautious.
With my sha, I walk back to the bed slowly, sitting down, unable to look him in the eye again, overwheld by helplessness.
I shouldn’t care that he’s hurt, just like I shouldn’t be having this conversation with him, but things have grown too complicated and out of my hands, and I’m left with only confusion.
"Why do we always argue and yell when we’re together?" I ask rhetorically.
For whatever reason we fight like children and say hurtful things, but neither of us ever leaves.
Maybe that says more about us than either of us wants to admit.
I expect him to ignore , too angry to speak, but I hear his voice again—light and playful:
"Because talking is too llow."
I can’t stop the laughter that takes off guard. I never even stood a chance, and just like that the tension dissipates.
"I’m serious."
"Because you challenge and I challenge you," he responds again, more seriously.
I find the courage again to look at him and et his eyes.
"I don’t rember what she looks like or anything about her," he says with reassurance for , from nowhere, even without asking.
I find myself able to smile again.
"Tell what you do rember about her."
"I know she was unlike anyone I’d ever t before, and along the line of eting her secretly, she was everything to a long ti ago." His blank stare suddenly morphs into a frown, recalling sothing unpleasant. "I know that her betrayal stung more than words could describe."
"What was it like back then?"
"I don’t know. A lot of my mories feel like they were stolen from . All that’s left is pain and anguish that ti has never been able to fade. A strong overwhelming desire for destruction and revenge and a single compulsion resounding in my mind—that once I beco a god, everything will make sense again."
I can’t say anything after that, knowing where both of us stand on that topic. Still, I’m interested to know another reason why he strives to attain sothing so far-fetched.
His mories.
What does it even feel like to live without them, I wonder.
To exist for centuries with only pain as your compass and revenge as your destination.
I climb deeper into the bed, getting ready to fall asleep again, and he sets the duvet aside for , folding it over my body once I’m in. Once again he tucks in.
"I wandered the halls drunk... you took back into my room, didn’t you?"
I’ve suspected since earlier today when he practically pinned down just like I was that night.
Azrael stares at like a deer caught in headlights, but he doesn’t confirm or deny anything, wearing an uncomfortable expression.
"You need to rest."
He gets up, turning to leave finally, but I reach out and take ahold of his hand before he can get far enough.
"Wait. I don’t want to be alone," I confess, hit with a wave of embarrassnt.
I’m not terrified by the dark, but I don’t want to wake up from another dream alone.
It would be the perfect ti to tease for being a wuss, but he misses the opportunity on purpose.
Rather, he slowly sits back down next to , staying still without complaints even when I don’t let go of his hand.
"I’ll stay till you fall asleep again."
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