Page 84 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

“Where do you need me, Bell?” Cyprus asked, not sounding the least bit perturbed by having his spot taken from him. I admired that about the whisp, his ability to adapt and smile through challenges. He was incredibly optimistic and energetic, never faltering in his mood.

“Betovere. Something about this feels wrong. Bigger than us having Asher. We make no real moves until I get to the king. He will want to know what is happening,” Bellamy said, his voice grim but strong. He was rising, as those in power must do during times of fear and danger.

Bigger than me? Did Bellamy think the fae were fighting back against the demons’ attacks on Betovere? I grew angry at the idea, the simmering heat of fury boiling over and spilling out of me.

“Perhaps if you would simply stop attacking the fae, then your subjects—your entire realm—would not be in danger,” I seethed. This argument had been a long time coming. I knew it. He knew it. We all did. For every move I took towards them, I also took two back. My own ears were a product of their violence as a species. Any war that came would be born of a natural feud, but would be urged on by their bloody choices.

Ranbir gasped, his eyes wide. Winona grabbed his hand, squeezing it in comfort. Lian glared at me, as if I were wrong for standing up for our kind. Noe, Henry, and Cyprus remained silent, though I could see the judgement in their eyes.

Did they all truly justify their actions? How could they possibly sit there and know that innocent fae were being murdered at the hands of demons, and still support that? It was disgusting.

Bellamy stood once more, my words stoking the fire within him, feeding that anger that was such a fundamental part of the Fire sub faction, his preferred power.

“You know nothing, Asher. Nothing. We have not laid a single attack on Betovere since the Great Wars, even when warranted. That king and queen that you so deeply love are framing us for murders they have committed. They want you to think us the enemy, they want divide, because they want war. They want power!” he shouted, causing me to shrink back into Henry.

The tattoos on Bellamy’s exposed forearms writhed, as if they were alive. Pulsing and stirring, they slithered like snakes, roaming his cream skin. The angrier he grew, the faster they moved.

“Why do you think that we have fae here in Eoforhild? Have you considered that there must be a reason for fae to escape your realm? Well there is. Eighty years ago, I was in Betovere and came across Lian screaming over a bloodied body while three guards in gold aimed at her with fucking swords.” Lian cringed, eyes clamping shut against the onslaught of emotions that the story brought out of her, tears streaming down her face.

“She begged—begged, Asher—for them to stop. She had done nothing wrong, her lover had done nothing wrong. When they attempted to drag Lian from her bloody body, I killed them. All of them. From then on, I found a way to rescue those who had been so brutally treated. I found fae who were about to be executed for daring to love one outside of their faction. Fae who were two millennia and considered expendable. Younglings who showed little to no power. So many that your filthy royals have deemed unworthy of life.”

The silence among us was painful as Bellamy neared me. His breathing grew heavier, eyes blazing with a rage that seeped from him, assaulting my senses. Fists clenched and jaw tight, Bellamy stopped his approach, as if he were too angry to keep walking.

Hot tears met my cheeks, but I did not allow myself to look away from the rage on his face. The pain.

“Do you think I do not want to wage war on them? Of course I do. Henry has been pushing me to do so for decades. How do you think I felt when I found out that they beat you to near death? What do you think I wanted to do when I heard how they treated you like a puppet? The moment I was made aware that they allowed that foul little mortal boy to touch you and live, I nearly stormed the castle. I would have done it, Asher. I would kill them all to save you, make no mistake. For you, I would be the villain.”

His words were like a slap across the face. It felt as if my heart were shattering to pieces, hearing him speak and seeing the look on the two fae faces in front of me was gut-wrenching.

“But I will tell you right now, I have not attacked Betovere, and neither have my kind or any of my subjects. That is because I do not want death and carnage and the loss of innocents. So please, tell me again how I can stop this war that the royal fae are so set on beginning.”

Seven pairs of eyes looked upon me. In the distance, a bird screeched. Otherwise, the silent air was thick with unspoken words and the truth that parted ways from Bellamy’s lips. My hands grazed my ears, the tears still racing down my face. Had Xavier cut them? Mia? Were they the ones who murdered my parents? Had they been the ones to rip their own son’s life from this world?

They lied to me, all of them. The royals, Bellamy, his Trusted. It was not my fault I lived in ignorance of the truth. Yet, I felt guilty. So immensely guilty that I had thought the beings around me had been mass murdering fae. Because they had proven themselves just and kind. Taking me was horrible, yes, but had Bellamy not saved me from Sterling? Had his Trusted not treated me as a comrade and cared for me like their own?

I considered how quickly Bellamy and Henry had come to my defense when those two demons attacked me. I remembered the circle the seven of them had formed around me when the afriktor threatened us. I thought of waking up in the grass to find Lian watching over me. I recalled how Noe held me when I cried. How they trained me and laughed with me and…loved me.

This group of beings, so different from one another, loved without hatred or judgement. They cared so deeply that they would lay down their lives for each other. For me.

And I accused them of attacking me and slaughtering my fae.

“I am—I just—” Words were failing me. No apology could make up for the lies that I had let sway my attitude and thoughts all this time.

At my back I felt a warm pressure. Henry had placed a hand there, comforting me as my mind reeled with the life-changing information. I offered the best smile I could muster in return, hoping that I did not look as pathetic as I felt.

Eighty years, that was how long I had been sitting idly by as fae were murdered by the couple I had considered my family. Nearly a century of strengthening our defenses, building prejudices, and honing powers for a war that could be avoided.

A war that would leave land decimated and lead to the death of thousands.

“I am sorry, Asher. I know you have been through a lot, and I would take away that pain in an instant if I could, but we are running out of time,” Bellamy rasped, his voice a plea of sorts. The prince walked over to me, kneeling down at my feet and grabbing my hands in his own. “You have to pick a side, Princess. You have to make the choice that you have been avoiding. Because there is no room to sit in the middle when a war begins.”

Bellamy reached up to cup my face with one of his hands, palm blazing on my ice-cold skin. He was asking for too much. How could I choose between the male in front of me and my friends back in Betovere? If I promised to aid the demons, would that threaten the innocent lives of those back home?

My breathing picked up, the tempo of my heart increasing to a dangerous speed. I needed more time. I needed Nicola’s wisdom. I needed to find a better way.

I needed someone to bear the weight of the world that was upon my shoulders.

At my feet, Bellamy continued to stare into my eyes—my soul—searching for the answer he wanted. For the first time, I acknowledged that I did want to choose him. In a better world, we would be together. It would be as easy as breathing, loving him. Laughter and joy would fill our lives, perhaps even younglings one day. We could spend evenings with his Trusted and my own friends. A family of sorts.

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