Page 40 of Heavy is the Crown
Fucking hell, the voice in my head continues to list off the marks on my soul, the debts I owe. It’s done an excellent job pushing away the little bit of hope I saw in Jackson’s words. What did he say? That my mother asked him to speak to me? Why would she want me to be happy after I killed her?
We didn’t.
“Then what the fuck happened?” I say out loud. My voice is carried away by the ocean breeze.
I don’t know. But I hope to find out.
I grip my dark hair hard in my fists and hang my head between my knees. It feels as though I’m staring down into a dark pit and one more gust of wind will throw me into it for eternity. Ava and Drago don’t understand. All my life, I’ve wanted someone to choose me. I thought that would fix it all. But Ciaran did choose me, and instead of helping, it made me realize I have something to lose now.
Everyone tells me I need to heal, need to let go, but no one tells you how to do that. How does one heal a lifetime of wounds that reopen daily? And that's the real question that holds meback. If I don’t know how to heal, how will I be the mate they need me to be? I can barely keep myself alive.
Because no one taught us how to live.
The truth of my dragon’s words slams into me, knocking the breath from my lungs.
Why would we feel worthy when our family told us otherwise?
(“ARMY OF ME” – In This Moment)
Anger pushes through me, hot and fast. A lance that attempts to cauterize my heart. Tears pour down my face in an onslaught of emotion as I process the torment I’ve put myself through all because of my fucking father. The fact that I’mstillpaying for my sins, sins that just keep piling up the longer I’m alive. Sins that never would have been committed if I had been born to a different family. A broken scream tears from my throat and echoes out into the harbor behind me, and in the next moment, my dragon bursts forth from my skin, shredding my human side to pieces as he takes over. He is the conduit for all the feelings I’m unable to process. He only sees red; primal fury drives him as he rips apart the surrounding area. Lava pours from his mouth with a rage-filled cry.
The harbor quakes as he shoves off the ground, his talons leaving huge indents in the soft soil. All the while, lava continues to leave his mouth. The wind we create causes great swells of the black water to meet the lava he is leaving behind. Plumes of steam rise up as the shoreline turns into a war of fire and water. It’s a visual representation of how I feel inside. Screams echo as people flee from my dragon, our shadow over the water a wraith looking for souls to reap. He moves higher and higher into the sky, and for once, we match in our feelings. Both our hearts are breaking as he carries us away from Ava and Drago.
Thank you, I say to him.
You can thank me when you allow us to return. You are in charge of us more than you believe, Shadow. And until you are well, you cannot be the mate they need.I have no interest in being the one in control, though, so I let my eyes close and tuck myself away.
TWENTY-TWO
A halfling of Hell is with Alexi. While we counted on that—planned on it, even—we did not anticipate his friendship with the dragon.
This could complicate things for The Order.
– Mori Family Grimoire
Ava
(“The Beautiful & Damned” – G-Eazy)
The skies feel heavy, and the wind howls through the tall buildings like ghosts calling out for retribution. Gothic Grove is a city of the damned, and the souls it’s claimed beg for revenge when the weather gets like this. The wind rips at my face as I exit the penthouse into the parking garage. Tucking my hands into my coat, I quickly scan the parking garage for a mode of transportation to take me to The Playground.
Spying the all-black Hellcat, I smile and skip over to it. Slipping in, I let my hands trail over the smooth leather seats as the engine purrs to life. I groan at the sound, loving how the vibration feels. I miss driving, miss the feel of the engineand the power that comes with knowing just how to read the road. In my world, there is a difference between being able to drive and actually driving. Or, at least, that’s what my brother would always say before sneaking us out for the races. Jackson may have raced more, but every now and again, Arcanna would convince him to let us race. I loved those moments, the absolute power that came with racing.
The freedom.
Freedom.
The word that has motivated so many of my choices these past years. The endless search for it, only to find I’ll never truly have freedom.
The radio flips onto G-Eazy, and I close my eyes for a moment, allowing the smell of leather and the lingering scent of Drago to wash over me. Leaving him sleeping upstairs was a herculean task that I’m astonished I accomplished. But I need space. I need time to cool off and ground myself. Need time to come to terms with some things that have been bothering me. And maybe I need some risk in my life right now, risk that feels controllable.
Shifting into gear, I pull the car out and begin making my way toward my home. This city never brightens, though the dark streets are illuminated by ever-burning street lamps. Most people complain about the constant cloud cover, but it feels safe to me, as though the clouds are my own personal shield against those who would drag me away. Slowly, the past is catching up to me, while the future I am desperate to avoid looms in front of me.And the future I want is slipping through my fingers.
The streets zoom past me, near empty despite the hour. It’s eerie and has me on edge. The Playground was my saving grace after I had escaped the prison. Drago and I started it together, and I love him for the help he offered, but I love him more forstepping away once I got my feet under me. Sure, he visits, but he’s had a hands-off approach since I took the reins.
The Playground is, above all else a place where people can safely explore their wants and needs. A place where you can exist in Gothic Grove that is absolutely safe—my magic is woven into the wards that keep the occupants safe from outside threats. At great cost to my magical reserve, I might add. They have been tested once and only once, when I first opened. I suspected then that they had been sent by Alexi, but now I wonder if it was The Order trying to drag me back. Either way, they failed.
My phone rings, and I see Drago’s name on the screen. I let out a long sigh before hitting the button to ignore. When it rings again, I switch it off entirely. I need space. I need time. Time to figure out the emotions swirling in me. Turning the music up louder, I press the accelerator down and lose myself to the feel of the car.
