Page 86 of Goldrage
The fantasy wraps around me, promising everything I’ve been denied.
It’s… everything I want. Everything I’ve secretly craved.
But it’s only fantasy.
And it shatters.
Because Adrian is here now.Now. Not then. Not when I truly needed him. Only now. After years of letting our mother feast on my soul. After watching from whatever shadow he hid in while I became everything I swore I’d never be.Nowhe wants to “protect” me?
All the warmth inside me turns to ice. I shove him back hard enough that he stumbles and only barely steadies himself by grabbing a chair.
“Now?” I roar. “You come to menow? After years of letting me fend for myself?”
“Julian, I?—”
“No!” The scream is savage, threatening to destroy the entire world. “You left me! It doesn’t matter who shot you because you fucking lived and then you left! You left me to think you were dead and to deal with the horrors of leading all these sick fucking assholes. I never wanted this power! I fuckingneededyou more than ever and you weren’t there. You fucking left me alone withher, and now you want to play the hero?Nowyou want to save me?”
The rage is a living thing, clawing up my throat, burning through my veins. Every lonely night, every brutal lesson, every time I reached for a brother who wasn’t there—it all explodes outward.
“I’m so fucking tired of everyone telling me what’s best for my life! Mother used me for her own ambitions. Valentine’s secret put me through hell. Aurelia needed her revenge and trampled over me in the process. And now you… you’re the worst of everyone. Because you’re still here spewing bullshit that you love me and want to protect me, when all you’ve done is watch from the sidelines and abandon me. And now you want me to run away and play house with you and your pregnant girlfriend?”
Fresh tears spill down Adrian’s cheeks, his face crumpling like paper. “It’s not like that?—”
“Get out!” The words rip from my chest with enough force to leave me hoarse. “Get the fuck out of my sight! I don’t want your guilt, I don’t want your protection, and I sure as hell don’t want your pity!”
He reaches for me again, fingers stretching across the space between us. “Julian, please?—”
I yank my gun from its holster. The metal is cold, familiar, an extension of everything they’ve made me. I level it at his head, my hand steady despite the chaos tearing through me.
“Out! Or I swear to fucking God, I’ll hit your skull this time.”
The threat bounces off the walls. Adrian’s hand drops slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
He backs toward the door. The look on his face—that fucking look of pity and sorrow and love—makes me want to empty the entire clip into the wall. Into him. Into myself.
The door clicks shut behind him.
Alone.
Always alone.
That’s all I’ve ever been.
The gun trembles in my grip before I shove it back into its holster. My chest heaves like I’ve been running for miles, but I can’t catch my breath. Can’t stop thetsunami of emotion crashing through me, ripping apart everything I thought I knew about myself.
I pace the study like a crazed lunatic, my fingers tearing through my hair, yanking out strands. The pain isn’t enough. Nothing is enough. A sound pours from my throat—half scream, half sob—and suddenly I’m in front of the mirror hanging between two mounted deer heads.
My reflection stares back, wild-eyed and broken. This isn’t Julian Harrow, heir to the Consortium. This is just some pathetic bastard who’s been everyone’s puppet since birth.
My fist connects with the glass. The mirror explodes in a shower of silver fragments, and I hit it again. Again. Again. Until my knuckles are shredded meat and blood drips steadily onto the floor. The physical pain is a relief, something real in a world built entirely on deception
I stumble to the bar in the corner, reaching for the whiskey, but my hands are shaking too badly to pour. The bottle slips and liquid spills onto the floor.
Fuck it.
Fuck all of this.
My shaky hands reach for my gun again. I like the weight of it. Cold. Final.
