Page 222 of Dark Souls

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I killed my family.” The words flew out of my mouth before I even knew what I had said. The silence only heightened the shock in the room. I couldn’t lift my head and look at her.

“You didn’t kill your family, Luka. The Knowltons killed your family.”

I shook my head. “The Knowltons only found us because of me. I led them straight to us. My father and brother died because of me. And my m–” I closed my eyes, feeling that familiar pang of anger and hatred for myself resurfacing. “And I killed my mama with my bare hands. That makes me a monster. Everything was my fault.”

“And is that why you don’t believe you deserve to be happy?”

I inhaled deeply. “Yes.”

“Is that why you turned your humanity off? Because you knew you could never feel happiness again without it?”

I stared at her. Damn, she was good. “Possibly. I don’t really remember much from before or how I felt.”

“Do you want to remember?”

“No.”

“What about the good memories?”

I turned my head away from her and pressed my fangs into my lower lip and dug my nails into my palms, wanting to cause myself some form of pain.

“They are even harder. I suppress them all.”

“Memories are all we have of loved ones that have passed, Luka. The good, the bad, the hard. But they are ours. Special because no one can take them from us. The memories you have of your family are yours alone and a precious reminder of the people they were, the love they had for you and the love you had for them. Maybe you see them as suppressed, but actually, you are protecting them. You keep them safe until you can find joy in them again.”

“That’s a very optimistic view, but I am not an optimistic person. I’m pretty sure they are suppressed because it is my method of survival.”

“Maybe it was, once. But I don’t think so anymore.”

It was my turn to ask the questions. “Why not?”

“Are you still trying to survive? Or are you trying to live?”

I sat and thought about that for a while. I wasn’t sure when the shift exactly happened, but I knew it had. Most probably the day I realised Ilaria was mine.

“I want to live.”

Alina smiled brightly. “And what does that look like to you? Close your eyes, imagine your future. What does living look like?”

Humouring her, I leaned the nape of my neck back on the chair and closed my eyes. I tried to imagine my future with Ilaria, being a part of this family, having my own one day. But I just couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see anything. I sat up, huffing and running a hand through my hair. “I can’t see my future.”

“That’s okay. These things take time,” Alina reassured me, but I could feel my frustration with myself growing again. “You seem angry, Luka. It’s okay to be angry, but instead of holding it inside, tell me what is making you feel this way.”

I stood up and started pacing the room. Alina stayed in her position, calm and relaxed, as she watched me.

“How can I give her a future when I can’t even imagine one for myself?” I shouted, my voice rising with each word. “I’ve been in and out of captivity, confinement and torture since I was twenty fucking years old. Even that small percentage of my life before I was on the run. My future has never been mine. I’ve never allowed myself to even contemplate one, because whenever I did, I only saw pain and brutality and death. The world doesn’t just change overnight. I might have the royals support, but Belladonna was right about one thing. People will come for me. Which means they will come for her too. And kids?” I paused, swallowing hard and shaking my head. “I can’t. I can’t give them this life. It would be the most fucking selfish thing I ever do. And I won’t. I saw the burden that weighed heavily on my father’s shoulders. He loved us. But he pitied us too. He felt so much guilt for the life we had.”

Alina was quiet throughout my rant and I slumped back down in the chair, hanging my head in my hands. We sat in silence, both of us digesting all that had been shared. It may not have been a lot, but it felt fucking huge. I’d said some things I had only ever shared with Ilaria and some things that I hadn’t even admitted to myself out loud before.

“Does Ilaria know how you feel about having children?”

I shook my head. I felt sick.

“Luka.” Alina’s voice was soft, so sincere and kind that it made me fight memories of my mother saying my name the exact same way. “You are right. The world cannot change overnight. But it can change. Christ, who would have thought that vampires and werewolves would be civil with each other, let alone friends and cross-mating? Who thought that hybrids would become some of the most respected and influential supernaturals in the human realm? Opinions can change and so can people. In fact, I guarantee most of the next generation of supernaturals won’t even know anything about Demonski Upirs. Barely anyone will have even met one before you. You have a chance to rewrite your own history here, Luka. You can’t change your past, but you can ensure it doesn’t ruin your future. And you do have a future. You may not envision it yet, but it is there. Your future is safe, Luka.”

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