Page 96 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

They all promised to see me again, each of them placing kisses to my cheeks. I did not return the vow. Cyprus had offered to punch Sterling in the face, which had earned a chuckle from me and a long-suffering sigh from Bellamy.

Henry had offered the longest goodbye, to my surprise.

“I am eager to hear all about the impression you leave on our great king,” he had said.

“Oh, carrot top, we both know he will be utterly delighted by my greatness,” I had responded.

He had laughed, bringing me in for a tight embrace and kissing the top of my head.

“Until we meet again, little brat. Try not to miss me too much,” he spoke into my hair.

“Impossible. No one else is nearly as entertaining to make fun of.”

And then we were all separating into small groups, each portaling at the same time.

Bellamy and I had landed just outside of Dunamis, the wards on the territory preventing us from entering with magic. We were met by a demon wearing faded brown riding leathers. She held the reins of two white steeds, and Bellamy thanked her before lifting me atop one and hastily mounting the other. The sun had just risen, but we would still barely make it there before it set.

“So, when are you going to ask me about Pino’s vision?” Bellamy asked not long after we had begun riding.

In truth, I had been planning to ask, but I was angrier than I wished to be, and I feared what he might say when I told him the truth I hid.

“I do not believe you will tell me, truthfully,” I responded, voice curt.

He did not look at me, though I saw a muscle in his jaw tick. I continued, relentless in my honesty.

“You have no right to be angry, not when you acted upon an uncertain future and ripped me away from my life. You thought of only yourself, and you decided what was best for me. But you do not know that, only I do,” I said, my tone cold and biting.

He went quiet, not even glancing my way. I tried to calm down, to remind myself how tantalizing those visions could be.

Seeing the future through the eyes of a Tomorrow was incredible, so vivid that it could be confused for current reality. Some who saw the future became obsessed with obtaining it, though Tomorrows always warned of its uncertainty. It was worse with Yesterdays, who showed the past one could never have again.

“I never meant to hurt you, Asher. The vision, it was everything I could have ever hoped for and more than I ever thought I would have. You were the center of it all, and waiting was agony. I kept telling myself that you would find your way to me, that you would run away and seek me like so many other fae had. But you never did. And it was not long before I found myself hidden in a wooded area of The Capital, watching as you read a book in the grass,” he confessed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the reins.

“You were even more beautiful than the visions had suggested, even in the gaudy gold. I had Cyprus and Luca take shifts at the palace, keeping an eye on you to make sure you remained safe. And then you became engaged, and I nearly lost it. I painted the walls of my chambers for hours on end. I refused to speak to anyone. I did not even eat.

“After about a week of sulking, I began plotting ways to take you. You were mine, or that was what I told myself. And as I watched you grow less and less fond of the mortal prince, I thought perhaps you might choose me on your own,” his voice broke.

“The night we met, I had been so nervous. You had looked as beautiful as ever, and the stupid prince rarely left you alone. I had to be bold, to convince you that you could love me the way I had already loved you. To prove to you that your future could be different than they had written it. When we kissed I nearly took you away then and there, but you ran, and I had to find another way to you. So, I portaled into your chambers a few days later, and I waited for you to return. I decided I would beg you to let me whisk you away. When you agreed to come with me, I thought that would be it. You would never leave my side. But you did, and I made a foolish choice in my despair. I went back for you,” he admitted.

“Instead of finding you roaming the grounds, I saw you unconscious on a bed, sleeping in the way only someone who had been newly healed and forced into unconsciousness could. My rage took over when I found out what happened, and I nearly killed the prince then and there. I thought about how I would do it. Pictured the glorious feeling of his blood on my hands as I whisked you away, but I still wanted you to choose me. I could not just steal you away while you slept. I had to be smart. When the wedding was moved up, I knew it would be my only chance. So I took it, because I saw our future and knew you were all I have ever wanted, Princess.”

I stared at him, his face contorted in both pain and determination. To him, the ends justified the means. But to me, who had not seen that future Pino prophesized, it was a gross manipulation of fate, carefully crafted to fit the future he wanted for himself. He had never forced me to love him, but he had upended my life in the hopes I would.

“I deserved to choose. I have not ever been able to make my own decisions. My life has been a series of choices made by everyone but myself. Never did I get a say in it, never did my opinions matter if they got in the way of those plans set forth. You took another choice from me, just as the royals always have. Every plot and scheme, every lie and half-truth, they all suited your wants and needs. What about me, Bell? What about my joy? My autonomy? My life? Does it mean so little that you feel it can be molded to fit your own?” I asked, watching as he winced at each blow.

I could not bring myself to regret the words, because he needed to hear them. He needed to feel the pain, to understand that his dreams had contributed to my nightmares. Perhaps a part of me needed the scolding as well—the reminder that I was no better.

“I am sorry, Princess. I should have put you first. Perhaps even left you alone. I would understand if you do not want me any longer. My offer to take you back to Betovere still stands, if that is what you wish. I want you to be happy, even if that is not with me,” he stated, his voice falling off into a broken whisper.

Heart racing, I looked at him. He stared forward, body tense and hands shaking. I could tell him, end this now before either of us were hurt further. It would be better, cleaner. But I could not force my mouth to form the words, my voice to speak the end. I did not want to, I realized.

Selfishness won out, and I sat up straight as I finally spoke.

“Bellamy, look at me,” I said. He turned, his eyes slightly pink, as if he were near tears. “I forgive you.”

His mouth dropped open, arms tugging back the reins and forcing his horse to a stop. My own trotted past a bit, before I too urged him to a stop. Bellamy looked baffled, unable to do anything else other than stare at me with his lips spread apart in an O shape.

When he was able to speak, it was slightly incoherent.

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