Page 126 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
So, I looked her way, willing it all back to her. It would have been easier if I had been touching her, but unlike Sterling, I thought Lara could use space during it. I gave her back the graphic memories of being assaulted at rapid speed, wishing above all else that she never had them to begin with. When I was done, Lara did not flinch, cry, or even speak. She merely turned and left, looking for Ray in the crowd.
“That was kind of you to do,” a voice said at my back.
Smiling, I turned to face Sterling. He wore a plain navy blue shirt with black buttons and trousers that matched, his blonde curls perfect and his pale cheeks rosy. In perfect sync with the start of a new song, Sterling held up a hand. Laughing, I took it, letting him pull me in and lead us to the dance floor. He picked an inconspicuous spot towards the edge and began to sway us in time with the beat as I spoke.
“They were hers, just as they were yours. Nothing kind about giving someone what belongs to them.”
“Still, you were thoughtful about it. You are better than you allow yourself to believe.”
“Will you still think I am kind if I tell you that I am afraid Stassi will hurt you?” I asked, staring up at him. His smile fell, eyes suddenly morose and half-lidded.
“It is not that different from Henry and Gen,” was all he said back. I opened my mouth to respond, but my mind thought about what he said.
Was it the same? Genevieve and Henry would also live very different lifespans, and perhaps there was a power imbalance in their age gap and abilities as well. But Genevieve, she seemed more equipped to handle it. To survive it. She was fierce. A queen in every way.
I could not say that to Sterling though. He did not deserve to feel weak or incapable. He survived. That was more than enough. More than most.
“I guess you are right,” I agreed, though I was still unsure if I was being honest. “I just want you to be happy.”
“I am alive.”
“That is not the same thing,” I chastised, scrutinizing him. He tilted his head back, laughing sardonically even as we spun.
“Oh I know it.” In his mind, he thought of every time he had been sure he would die in the dungeons, and I realized that he was simply taking it one step at a time. Trying to survive, even now.
“I am here,” I murmured.
“Thank you,” he offered, leaning in to kiss my forehead before letting me go. The song was not over, but I saw through his eyes what had him passing me off. Who. Turning, I spotted him. Adbeel stood a foot away, looking at me with love and hope, his hands outstretched.
We came together, dancing slowly at first. It was a lovely moment of tranquility. Overall, the entire night had been perfect. So at odds with the world outside of Pike. We were in the midst of a war, yet we had found a pocket of peace in the heart of it all.
“Well, I suppose I owe you thanks as well,” Adbeel said as he twirled me. I giggled as I grew dizzy from the action, Adbeel’s large hands catching me before I could fall.
“For what?” I asked between laughter, reaching our hands high and forcing him to take a turn spinning. Such joy. Such perfect, perfect joy.
“For letting me be a real grandfather. Letting me care for you and teach you and protect you.” His eyes flicked from my eyes to my crown, resting on it fondly. His wife’s—my grandmother’s—crown. How strange it must have been to see it on someone’shead after all this time. “I love you, Asher. I know it is odd to say since we have known each other for such little time, but I truly do. You are the most extraordinary granddaughter I could have ever asked for.”
“Thankyou.I am sorry Zaib never got to come back, but I am so grateful that you have welcomed me with open arms. And I love you, too.” Nothing could explain how lucky I felt to be loved—truly loved—by so many. But it was Adbeel’s love, that familial love I had been starved of, which I basked the brightest in.
Other than Bellamy’s. But that did not feel like simply love anymore. It was something more. Transcendental. Otherworldly. The universe itself contained within our shared souls.
“She would be proud. Maybe one day you will have a daughter and—” Adbeel stuttered into silence, his dark eyes wide. I gasped, not sure what was happening. An awful, foreboding gurgle came from his throat, and then blood shot out of his mouth, coating my face. Before my cry could even leave my mouth, my grandfather collapsed to the ground. And there, standing with what had to be Adbeel’s silent heart in his hand, was Malcolm.
My uncle stood with his own father’s heart, staring at the organ as if he were surprised by its presence there. Regret and terror flooded his mind, a tsunami of emotions that seemed to render him helpless. For it had been Mia’s order to kill Adbeel and then portal away. To get in and immediately get out. I could see it all there in his head. But Malcolm, who had only managed to get past the wards by truly convincing himself he would do no one harm, had discovered he did not want to be the villain of my story. Not in truth.
Too fucking late.
I stared at Malcolm and let out a piercing scream as I let my mental gates fall.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Bellamy
“Who would have thought that you would manage to find a beautiful, funny, powerful female to marry instead of just fucking your hand for the rest of your life?” Noe joked as I dipped her. I snorted, lifting her back up and spinning us around.
“You are such a pain,” I sneered, the tone playful despite my face.
“Honestly, though, I am proud of you, Bell. We all are. Winona, Pino, and Luca would have been, too.”
