Page 7 of Heavy is the Crown
His face flares with concern when he sees me stumble and wince as I try to turn toward the stairs that will lead me to my room. “Jesus, Ava, what happened?” Rushing forward, he attempts to steady me.
“It’s nothing,” I say, steeling myself against the tears that want to pour down my face.I will not cry in front of him.Safety is an illusion in Hell, and no one, especially not Oisin, will get my tears.
“You’re clearly drunk,” he growls. Pulling me into the light, he takes note of the small skirt and even smaller top I’m wearing. His eyes track over my smeared make up and messed-up hair. The whole picture finally clicks for him. “Are you really that stupid? I hope it was a good fuck, because you won’t be leaving this place again.”
The statement hits me hard. I shake my head, cheeks flooding with the heat of embarrassment. “Please don’t tell Jackson.” Learning what happened would only reinforce the idea that I shouldn’t be allowed out alone. His fingers tighten on me. “Oisin, ow! Let me go.”
“Ossy, I thought you were coming—” My brother’s best friend, Arcanna, comes to a full stop when she sees me standing there, Oisin’s hands on my body, my panicked expression. Her green eyes narrow in on the hold he has on my hips before they sweep back up to my face.
He drops his hands, pushing away from me quickly. “She’s fucking drunk. Went out and got laid finally.” His voice is laced with a cruelty that has my eyes stinging.
My body suddenly starts to shake, the adrenaline crashing out of me now that Arcanna is here. Three years older than me, she has always felt like the older sister I always wanted. “P-p-pl-lease, you can’t tell Jax,” I say through chattering teeth.
Her slender body pushes Oisin aside, her long black hair brushing against my arm. “If you don’t want to tell Jackson, we won’t.” She glances behind at Oisin. “Will we?”
“Don’t tell Jackson what?” my brother’s voice floods the kitchen. I don’t bother turning to face him as I watch Oisin track his movements behind me, and Arcanna cringes a little. My brother’s golden frame comes into view as he plants a kiss on his lover’s cheek. The two couldn’t be more opposite. Jackson, the model surfer boy with his blond hair and golden skin. Oisin has shaggy black hair and a jagged scar cutting through his left eye. They’ve been close our whole lives, and Arcanna joined their duo when her mother and father moved onto the palace grounds as an advisor and healer to our court.
When Jax finally turns to look at me, his face becomes livid as he takes in my appearance. No doubt, the scent of alcohol is pouring out of me as I start sweating under his scrutiny. Darkness descends upon the kitchen. In the distance, thunder rumbles. My brother’s face goes grave, his eyes shifting to black. The scent of a storm floods the kitchen around us.
Arcanna and Oisin wisely step to the side, though even from this angle, I can see Arcanna frowning at my brother, her brows pulled tight.
“What did you do?” The question hangs heavy in the air. A line has been drawn. Regardless of my answer, I know I’ll never leave this house unguarded again. I know tomorrow, if I check that passage, it’ll be sealed shut.
“Jax . . .” Arcanna starts, but he shakes his head, cutting her with a look that would make anyone else shrink back. But not her. She grinds her teeth and levels with him a glare.
“No. I told her not to go. So, she gets to live with the knowledge that I've slaughtered the person who touched her.” His anger wraps around us in the kitchen.
“Fuck you, Jax. It’s not wrong that I want to live my life a little!” I grind my teeth down, anger pulsing through my body. “You have everything you could want, friends that get to stay with you here. I have nothing. I’ve never even had a boyfriend! I wanted a normal fucking night!”
“You're a spoiled brat. You have a duty to this family, and you jeopardized that by going out—alone, I might add—tonight. If someone hears you’ve been whoring around, that could damage all of us.” The poisonous words drip into the thick air around us.
A gasp emits from Arcanna. “Jackson, you fucking ass,” she mutters.
Jackson holds my stare before his face softens. “Look, Ava—” he starts.
Tears spring to my eyes, and I can’t hold them back. “No.” I take a deep breath. “You are no better than Mother or Father at this point. So, stop pretending you care about me as a sister. You’ve made it clear what I am to you now.” Spinning on my heel, I race out of the hallway as quickly as I can, Jackson yelling after me that it’s for my own good to stay guarded. To stay home.
And sure, maybe it would seem that way to him. Or anyone.
But the prince of Hell will never understand what it feels like to be the princess. From the outside, I look like I live a beautiful life. But once you get in close, you realize it’s nothing but a gilded cage meant to hold me until my father decides what he wants from me. My virginity and my body are the only usefulness I have for the kingdom.
It’s in this moment that I know my decision to put my needs first was correct, to no longer allow others to control my story and push their agenda. Even if it means I have to leave my home, I’m fucking creating my own story. I steel my back and drop the clothes I was wearing, no longer cowering in my own skin, and step into the piping-hot shower. The steam billows up around me as I allow my new resolve to soak in.
Shadow
(“From the Inside” – Linkin Park)
I see the warehouse burning through my dragon’s eyes. The wharf is completely engulfed in flames and thick smoke. The heat alone is enough to melt the structures that haven’t yet fallen to the streams of lava that pour from my mouth. The witches are scrambling to put the fire out, but their water magic is doing nothing against the anarchy I’ve caused. The oranges and reds stand out vividly against the backdrop of the dark city of Gothic Grove.
My dragon still feels annoyed at the collar we wear, but he enjoys the freedom Alexi allows. Enjoys the pandemonium and death we unleash every time we are allowed out of the aviary he keeps us in. Screams echo out into the inky night as I launch into the air, my black-and-gold body swooping over the witches like the physical manifestation of a plague sent to kill them. And maybe that’s what I am, at this point.
My massive body comes to land in front of a group of witches fleeing the scene. Their faces covered in soot, some are already crying, the tracks easily seen. Others are preparing to fight, determination not to be taken on their faces. I shift down into my human form, my dragon slipping away. “Do not make me kill you,” I grind out. My fists are wreathed in flame and a portal opens behind me, the massive stone prison that Alexi runs directly on the other side. I see one witch step backward, as if to run, but I send out my flames around us. No one is escaping with their life.
Vampires file out of the opening and grab the witches quickly; despite their magic, these witches are not powerfulenough to take on this many vampires. As the last woman is shoved through, the vampire turns toward me. “Alexi says to leave no other survivors.” I don’t say anything, don’t acknowledge the command or the feeling that it gives me to think of killing the remaining witches and shifters.
My flames drop as the vampire steps back through my portal. My skin crawls as I crack my neck and prepare to feed theotherbeast that lives within me. One that is scarier than my dragon, because it’s not a supernatural creature. It’s just my own personal lust for death and destruction.
I allow a partial shift, my eyes golden, claws and teeth coming out. I look at my bare arms and the scars that decorate them. Tonight, I’ll be adding more, one for every person whose blood quenches the need here. I take a deep breath and lose myself to the blood lust.
