003 || Murder In His Eyes

EMBER

The murder in his eyes was a promise I welcomed. Death would bring me peace.

I was ready.

My gaze slid sideways, just enough to catch the young guard who'd slipped me the dagger earlier. He stood in the corner, pressed against the damp wall like he wanted to disappear into the stone. His hands were still trembling. Someone had sent him. Someone who wanted me to finish this.

But who?

The question died as Azai drew closer. The dagger gleamed in his fist, stained with his own black-red blood. Gently, he tilted my chin up with the tip of the blade.

"You can’t take the easy way out."

I didn't answer. What was there to say? My throat was raw from screaming, my insides still burning from the poison. I closed my eyes instead, surrendering to the inevitable.

Then I heard a wet, tearing sound. My eyes snapped open.

Azai had turned the dagger on himself. Blood steadily dripped from the deep cut on his wrist, but he didn't even flinch.

He crouched in front of me, grabbed my jaw with bruising fingers, and forced my mouth open.

"No—" I tried to twist away, but the chains and the poison and the sheer exhaustion pinned me in place.

He pressed the bleeding wrist to my lips.

"Drink."

I clamped my teeth shut. I would not. I would not take anything from him, not even salvation.

"Fight all you want. It changes nothing."

He pinched my nose closed. Air ran out quickly. My mouth opened on a gasp, and he tilted his wrist, letting the hot rush of his blood flood my tongue.

I tried to spit it out. I gagged, coughed, and thrashed against the chains. But it was useless. The blood kept coming, sliding down my throat.

"That's it," he said. "Swallow. Let it burn the poison away."

And it did burn.

Gods, it burned.

It felt like I was swallowing molten glass. I arched, choking on a scream that wouldn't come.

He finally pulled his wrist away. The wound was already closing, the skin knitting itself together with unnatural speed.

"The fire will pass," he said softly. "Eventually. But from now on, you will learn your place beneath even the lowest. You will be nothing.“

I lifted my head, trembling, and forced the words out through cracked lips. "You can't break what's already shattered, Azai."

His tight smile sent shivers down my spine.

"Oh, I can. And I will enjoy every second of watching you beg for the mercy I will never give."

He rose to his feet, towering over me again.

"Healers," he said without looking away from me. "Take her out of this filth. Wash her. Scrub every trace of the cell from her skin. Then make her work."

One of the healers hesitated. "Alpha—"

"Now."

...

They took me to the lower kitchens first. The healers had stripped me of the worst filth in a cold bucket bath, but they hadn't bothered with anything soft. No towel. No clean dress. Just a threadbare linen garment that barely reached mid-thigh and left my bruised arms and legs bare for everyone to see.

"Look at her," one of the younger maids whispered, loud enough for me to hear. "She used to be Luna. Now she's scrubbing our floors."

Another maid laughed. "Bet she never touched a rag in her life. Look how her hands shake."

They didn't even give me gloves. I dropped to my knees because standing hurt too much.

I could feel their stares and their whispers crawling over my skin like insects.

"She really doesn't remember anything?"

"Probably faking it. Trying to crawl back into the Alpha's bed."

"Did you see the way he looked at her? It looked like he wanted to rip her throat out and kiss it at the same time."

"Pathetic."

I kept my head down. I told myself the words didn't matter. Nothing mattered except surviving the next day.

Just then, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. A very pale woman with blonde hair walked towards me, wearing a pretty red dress. Diamonds glinted at her throat.

The maids straightened instantly. Some curtsied. Others looked away, suddenly very busy.

Who was she?

The new Luna?

She stopped a few feet from me, close enough that I could smell jasmine and something sweeter. Her eyes were pale blue, almost silver as they moved over my hunched form.

"Poor thing," she sighed. "Look at you."

I didn't answer. I kept scrubbing, slower now, the brush trembling in my grip.

She crouched gracefully in front of me. When she spoke again, her voice was much lower.

"You must be in so much pain. All of this... it's cruel, even for him." She reached out and tucked a damp strand of hair behind my ear. "I know what it's like to be cast aside when he's done with you."

I froze.

She slipped something small and cold into my palm—metal. A key. Her fingers closed mine around it.

"The cold chamber," she whispered. "Down the east corridor, third door past the wine cellar. I'm sure you'd like to see your son. One last time."

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it would crack them.

She rose, brushed imaginary dust from her robe, and smiled at the others as if nothing had happened. "Carry on, girls. The Alpha will want everything spotless."

Then she was gone.

I waited. Five minutes. Ten. Long enough for the maids to lose interest, to turn back to their pots and gossip. My legs felt like lead, but I forced myself up.

I slipped out the side door.

The corridors were dim, torchlight flickering. I moved like a ghost, one hand braced against the wall. Every step pulled at the raw places inside me. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My vision blurred at the edges.

Third door past the wine cellar.

I found it.

Quickly, I slid the key into the lock. Cold air rushed out when I pushed the door open. Gods, it was freezing in here. But the thought died when I saw him.

My son.

In the centre of the room, inside the glass-and-ice coffin, lay the smallest, most perfect thing I'd ever seen.

And gods... I hadn't noticed before, but he looked like me.

The shape of his nose. The faint curve of his lips. The stubborn little chin. Pieces of me, preserved in frost.

I stumbled forward. My knees hit the floor. The tears were uncontrollable once they were unleashed. I pressed my palms to the cold glass, fogging it with my breath.

"I'm sorry," I choked out. "I'm so sorry, baby. I don't remember what happened, but I'm sorry. I would have kept you safe. I swear I would have—"

I froze when I noticed his fingers.

They were turning purple!

No. No, no, no.

Panic seeped into my veins. I pounded on the glass. "Wake up. Please—please wake up—"

The door slammed open behind me.

Hands seized me from behind, rough and unyielding. I thrashed, screaming as I tried to reach the box.

Azai stormed in, his expression icy. The healers crowded behind him, their faces pale.

One of them stepped forward, trembling. "Alpha... his fingers. The colour. The life force link…has failed. He's... he's gone."

Azai's gaze locked on the tiny, still form.

The whole room seemed to hold its breath. Then he turned to look at me.

"You did this," he said, his voice so low it vibrated through the chamber. "One way or another... you finally finished what you started."

I shook my head, tears rolling down my face. "I didn't—I swear—I only wanted to see him—"

He grabbed my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his.

"You will never see him again," he whispered. "And from tonight, going forward... you will wish every single day that you had died with him."

“Take her to the execution chambers," he ordered the guards, and I froze. "Now."