Mark of Betrayal (76 page)

I shoved him away again. “No. I don't want this! I don't
want
to love you!” I screamed.

He stood taller, the centre of his being turning to ice, breath by painful breath. His arms fell to his sides, his eyes glazed. “Ara, I can't read you right now,” his voice shook. “I need you to tell me you don't really mean that.”

I sunk down, my head in my hands, tears falling over my knees and onto the carpet. “I don't know what I feel. I just need you to go. I just need to be alone.”

“
Sure. Okay, I’ll uh—” His words stopped.

I peeked through my fingertips and saw his long toes twitch then shift back, step by step, as he walked away, slipping into his jeans, closing my bedroom door a second later.

A sharp ache struck the core of my wretched heart then; I folded into a ball, crying aloud until, as the sun showed a lighter horizon in the distance, the silent sobs of my soul dying rang out into the emptiness around me.

Agony finally turned clarity to fog, and everything from my heart deep went numb.

The morning felt new, quiet, dark. I thought of Mike, down the other end of the manor, probably unable to sleep because of our fight, and wondered what he’d think to know what I just did.

Right now, before the sun rose, no one had a clue, and I could still live in the dream-like state where nothing bad ever truly happened—where everything I ever did wrong was just a nightmare.

But it wasn't a nightmare—not this time. I slept with Jason to keep David, and the regret I felt wasn’t just for the betrayal of my wedding vows; it was because I’d sent Jason to his death, and I wasn’t sure I could live with that—not after having loved him that way—felt him love me back like no other man ever had…or would.

I might have saved David, but I’d revealed an inner truth that was worse than betrayal.

I shut my eyes, clasping my hands under my chin, and whispered to that One Entity out there, somewhere past the stars, beyond Dark Matter and planet Jupiter. I needed to be heard; I needed to take back what I did. “Please don't let me be pregnant to Jason. Please, please,” I repeated over and over again. But my words became weak by the time the sun crawled along my naked body, and I sat at the head of my bed, my knees tucked up, thumb against my lips, staring into the truth of the life I just destroyed.

There was no wind outside, no sound; the ocean was still and the birds…all gone. I deserved no hint of life this morning; deep inside, I was a disgusting soul—gifted with beauty, love, opportunity, and I wasted it.

“
Forgive me,” I whispered.

A white nightdress was the only thing covering my lustful, sinning body as I stumbled through the halls toward the gates of release. Freedom. I needed to feel the wind on my face and the sun on my skin to know I was still alive—that I wasn't dragged away by the reapers in the middle of the night.

I walked through the forest at dawn, praying it would trap me, praying something evil would come to get me. But it let me pass, led me to the field—to the place this all began.

Clouds rolled over the sun as I cried my eyes to blindness, fumbling through the long, itching grasses; a storm was on the way, and I wanted it to come, wanted it to electrify the skies with its power and strike me down where I stood.

But it wouldn’t, because I was immortal—no longer so blessed to be gifted with death. It was something I’d have to force upon myself—take myself apart so that I never opened my eyes again. I couldn't go back to that life. Everything was ruined. What once was innocent now was tainted so black it could never be loved again. David saw a pure soul in me, but in truth, that was the lie. There was no escape from the pain—no escape from the truth that I wanted Jason as badly as I wanted David—in equal measures. The only release I could expect would be a release from life—into an eternity of Hell.

I had no memory of taking the steps to the lighthouse roof, no memory of climbing up and finding my way to the edge, but as I stood atop it, the wind whipped its wild fury against my nightdress, and my hair lashed out behind me, circling back in my face and around my neck.

The sun turned the base of the clouds red, and thunder rolled over the ocean, raising the waves into a swirl of viscous claws, gripping the rocks below.

Under me, a light flashed out to dawn sailors, warning all of the treacherous beast that lay among the rough seas—
Do not dare endure her heart,
it screamed,
for you will surely be destroyed.

I slowly reached up and yanked David's locket from my neck. It felt so heavy, weighed down by guilt. I had no right to wear it any longer.

I took another step toward the edge, wiping my hair and the mess of tears from my cheeks, but didn’t look down—couldn’t look toward my fate. The Devil could take me, he could have my ruined soul, but I would not look into his eyes as I fell into his arms.

I closed my eyes, and the wind cried, howled across the planes behind me as my toes edged out over the emptiness. And, holding my breath, I launched myself with a soft step, into the open space of nothing.

Silence.

Peace.

There were no voices here, no tears, no regrets.

The ocean roared louder the closer I came, calling to me, reaching for me like claws of sanction, pounding the rocks with blowing, bursting white foam.

I closed my eyes and lifted my chin, feeling the ocean rip the locket from my fingers as darkness obliterated everything else.

* * *

When you disregard your own heart, you betray the ones you love before you’ve even committed the act.

As the ocean waves washed over this desiccated, abandoned wreck, I waited for death to come—or maybe it was already here, and the agony paralysing me, preventing me from lifting my face out of the drowning waves, was Hell.

The sun had not returned from its prison in the clouds, and the darkness felt empty, scary—like anything could be out there, but nothing worse than what I’d become.

I had to get up. I had to try again. I couldn't let myself live to tell David what I did with his brother—or what I truly felt for him.

“
Let me go?” I asked softly. “If there is a God up there—” I rolled my head, choking on the burning salt water, “—just take me, please?”

A sharp ache and a rushing frost spread over my entire body then. I could feel my limbs being pulled, shifted, moved about by the ocean—could feel the rocks gashing my soggy skin, and I wanted to feel it. I wanted to feel that pain.

When I closed my eyes, I saw a face—David. My David. He looked so scared; his eyes round, ragged, a kind of horror filling them, dragging his soul down behind those tears.

“
David?” I whispered. “Why are you crying?”

“
Because I lost her,” he said.

I stood beside him on the beach, watching the waves shape the rocks, making that fragile body a part of their imprint for eternity. White cloth shifted as the waters receded, and black tendrils floated out from her head, like snakes on the skull of a beast.

“
It will be a good death,” he whispered.

“
One suited for the fiend she was.”

“
No—she wasn't evil; she was just a girl,” he said, suddenly squatting beside her, lifting her head. “She just got lost and couldn’t find her way home.”

“
What will you do with her?” I asked.

“
Help her.”

“
No, let her die.” I turned away, disgusted in her.

“
I will. But she needs help. She can't die on her own.” He dropped her head back into the water and held it under. “It’s strange to see her like this—to hate her so much after I loved her.”

“
What changed; why did you stop loving her?” I asked.

He looked up. “She betrayed me.”

My eyes flashed open to the dry, open surrounds of the field. The grass remained still, even in the breeze, but my hair lashed out around my face.

I stood under the tree, looking off to the cliffs.

A silhouette appeared over the horizon, stumbling, and as he came closer, time lapsing to show his movements in skipped scenes, I saw his face—saw him holding his breath; lost, unable to cry. He carried a girl so close to his heart she looked like a child, while her bloodied arms hung down loosely from her body, her neck tilted back awkwardly, her dark hair dripping with blood and regret.

“
Leave her there, David,” I yelled, watching him pass. “Put her back!”

But he didn't hear me. He walked forward, knowing what he had to do; knowing nothing else in the world mattered but to make her safe, because he had no idea what he was saving.

His eyes were aged with the pain in his heart, his soul withering under dying hope. He walked with the strength of an eighty-year-old man, and I loved him for that, but hated that, even in death, she brought him pain—the only colour she ever gave his life was in blood.

He started screaming before he even reached the steps to the Great Hall, his voice travelling throughout every corner of the manor. But no one would come. Not if they knew the truth. They would say
Let her die.

He fell to his knees, dropping the girl to the polished floor by the table she dined at every night with those who once loved her. He tried to touch her—to make her pain go away, but he just didn't know where to place his hands. “Oh God.” He covered his mouth. “I should never have left you alone so long. What have I done?”

I stood over him, blinking, watching, wondering if he would cry such deep agony if he knew what she’d done.

“
My love.” He calmed, placing a flat hand to her chest, feeling the stillness that accompanied death. “Please. Please don't be gone.
Please
.”

All around us then, the sour scent of shock and fear filled the room as, one by one, faces came from the shadows and stared at the bleeding, massacred remains of my once beautiful body.

Each person stood motionless, no one coming to her aide. Perhaps they knew. Perhaps they’d been told what lies would do—how they would destroy, trap, torture any who bathed in the profits.

An eerie silence drew the air in then, like taking a deep breath, as the energy of four familiar beings broke the crowd; I heard them scream, heard them cry, but couldn't understand it. Why would they do that, when they know what she is? Why did Jason fall to his knees beside his brother and search for a place to touch this girl—a way to hold her? What was it she meant to them that they could cry for her, when she did such terrible things?

David knelt back, closing his eyes, as the people around stared at him and Jason—side by side, both alive. Shock marred any joy they may heave felt as realisation sunk in.

The king had returned.

Mike stepped in then and slipped his hands under my knees and ribs, but Jason held strong long enough to kiss my brow, his lips bloodied as Mike tore me from his arms. I heard none of the yelling, but saw their eyes, their mouths wide as they all screamed at each other, blaming each other—forgetting my broken body, forgetting what needed to be done.

But one knew. One slowly walked up, pried my body from Mike’s arms and walked away, speaking a name into my brow as he left the arguments behind.

“
Put me back, Arthur,” I said quietly, knowing he wouldn’t, even if he did hear me.

Chapter Twenty

David sat by the bedside, holding her hand, whispering a prayer into her skin, while Jason leaned on my dresser, watching through tear-worn eyes. I could tell from how still the body was that she hadn't started breathing yet. They’d sewn her flesh up with tight, jagged stitches, washed the blood away and dried her hair, but she wasn’t there anymore.

And I wasn't going back.

Jason looked up then, to where I stood at the foot of the bed, and his pupils became darker, larger, the colour draining from his face. I looked behind me, saw nothing there, then frowned at him, moving a little closer.

“
Jase, can you see me?”

He stood from his lean and unfolded his arms, reaching into thin air. As he moved, I saw a pale-blue light in the reflection—faint, hard to see; its lashing spectrums fading with every tick of the clock on the wall. I felt his fingers go through me, like a sick feeling, and looked down my own body, seeing it as it was when David pulled me from the ocean.

Jase didn't see what I saw—the ruined remains—he saw something beautiful, ghostly, while I was lost in the nightmare of a horror movie.

“
Jase?” I looked up from his hand. “Did you tell him—did you tell David?”

He shook his head.

“
Kill me—” I looked back at David. “He can never know. You have to kill me.”

“
Ara,” Jason whispered, and everyone in the room looked up; I couldn't see their faces, but felt their eyes—their energy.

“
What is that?” Arthur walked over and reached out.

And as if I was some freak on show at a fair, several hands came through my body.

“
Ara?” David stood, staring; his eyes tracing every inch of what I knew he saw as light. “Is that you?”

His warm hand went through my gut, and my soul broke apart, catching hold of his and latching on, feeling the instant connection; a lifetime of emotion swirled around us both, and I knew he felt it, too; I saw the look in his eye. But in his heart, he was broken. His soul was broken; I could feel that—could feel the darkness coming to get him. If I died, if I faded away, he would come with me—but I realised, as I looked deeper into everything he was, that if I went back, he’d go into the night alone.