My heart goes still. A lead weight in my chest. I don’t know what to say.
I don’t even truly know what he’s talking about.
And he sees it.
Thiago shoves himself upright. “Maybe it was wrong of me not to tell you first. To give you a choice.”
“You did give me a choice,” I protest, sitting up and dragging the cloak to my breasts. “As I recall, I promised you forever. No matter what. I knew there are shadows within you. I knew I was taking a chance. I still made that choice. I’d still make that choice.”
He looks at me then. “Even if you just married a monster?”
I look at him and I can’t see it. All I can see are doors slamming shut. Shouts echoing through the hallways of Hawthorne castle. People’s faces cringing as my mother pronounces her whims upon the court. Vines stabbing up through the flagstone floors and spearing straight through a foreign emissary’s throat when he insults my mother.
And me.
Stealing refuge in the library because it’s the safest place in the castle. The constant pressure in my chest when I’m at court. Worrying that I’m wearing the wrong thing, saying the wrong thing, ingratiating myself to the wrong people.
Never daring to make friends or smile at one of the servants, because my mother will use them to hurt me if she thinks I care about them.
My mother would never care if anyone was afraid of her. Fear is the pressure point you push to get your own way, according to her.
If there was darkness inside her, she would embrace it. She would trample all in her path and laugh as people pleaded for mercy.
“I’ve seen monsters.” It’s a dawning realization I’ve never dared give voice. Here he is, worrying that the shadows inside him will take over. Worried that he hasn’t given me a choice in this, because he hasn’t given me all the information.
My mother has never once worried if her actions will be perceived the wrong way. It’s always my fault when we argue, until I’m second-guessing every choice I make. It’s always my actions, my choices, my lack of magic…. You spend your entire life trying to juggle plates, and it doesn’t matter how well you juggle them, it feels like she’s throwing more plates at you. Faster and faster, as if to try and force me to fail so she can punish me again.
She’s a monster.
All those times I’ve apologized for something I haven’t done. The guilt. The weight of it eating away inside me until I decided that maybe it would be just easier if I didn’t care at all.
Maybe it would have been easier if she’d just hit me.
And that’s a ticking time-bomb of a realization because I’ve never dared consider whether the hurt she’s caused is… her fault. I’ve always allowed her to claim it as my own. I’ve always bowed my head and sought a way to make her happy—or if not happy, then to stop her from screaming. You try and you try and you try and it’s never enough.
“She’s hurt you.” His hand strokes over my shoulder and down my back. Then up again, his thumb rasping over my cheek. It’s a comforting thing. More than I ever expected really, and I shiver as I snuggle into his chest and wrap my arms around him.
“Yes.” A quiet confession in the night.
It makes me feel as though I’m something precious and he can barely stop touching me. As if I’m going to vanish if he dares let me go, even for a second.
I want to hold onto this feeling forever.
“I am a bastard, Vi.” It’s a whisper in the night. “Because I knew what I was asking you to walk into blindly. And here you are, trying to flee a monster of your own making.”
I slide a thigh over him, straddling his hips. “I’m not scared of you. I’m not scared of any part of you. Because if you were truly a monster then you wouldn’t be warning me away.”
He groans as he slides his hands up my sides. “Vi, Vi, you don’t know what you’re saying—”
I find his cock, hard beneath me and slick with my own wetness. “If you give me the chance I will love every part of you. I promise you this. I will love your light. I will love your darkness. I will fight for you with everything I have.” The tip of his cock breeches me and I shove down, sucking in a sharp breath as he fills me to the hilt. It’s still new, still a shock to my body. And I love it. Love feeling those hands digging into my hips as he snarls and thrusts up into me. Together we can conquer the world.
“Show me your darkness,” I whisper, threading our fingers together and riding him. “Let me love it.”
A gasp escapes him and he throws his head back, his fingers clenching in mine. “You’re too good to be true.”
I lean down and nip at his throat. “No, I’m not. I’m tired of being good. I’m tired of being trapped in a cage, staring at the world through my own glass walls. Maybe I want to break free too. Maybe I want to be wicked. Maybe I want to be your queen.” The words fill every inch of me, lighting me up within.
I’ve never had a dream. I’ve never dared.
But hearing his words, hearing the yearning in his voice…. I want that too. And maybe this was reckless, maybe it will bring ruin, but it feels like I’m setting fire to the old Vi and out of her ashes
