Warmth presses against my back. Azrath's presence, solid and reassuring, but even that can't stop the fractures spreading through my heart.
My father. My gentle, stubborn, loving father—murdered by a girl who resented his kindness.
Rage. White-hot, consuming, obliterating everything except the need to make her pay. My hands move before thought catches up, fingers closing around Mariselle's throat.
"You killed him." The words tear from my chest, raw and broken. "You murdered my father because he loved me more than you."
Mariselle's eyes widen, her mouth opening in a soundless gasp. Her hands claw at my wrists, but the fury gives me strength I never knew I possessed.
"Ilyra, stop!" Vaelra's voice cuts through the roaring in my ears. "Stop this!"
But I can't. Won't. The image of my father's gentle hands trembling, his kind eyes growing dim while poison coursed through his veins—all because this selfish, bitter girl couldn't bear being second in anyone's affections.
"He protected me from you." My grip tightens. "He saw what you were. What you both were."
Mariselle's struggles grow weaker. Her face shifts from red to purple, those calculating gray eyes bulging with terror and something that might be regret.
"Please..." The word barely escapes her lips.
"Did he beg?" I lean closer, watching the life drain from her features. "When you fed him that poison, drop by drop, day after day—did my father beg you to stop? When you pretended to find him and screamed for help?"
Her body goes limp. The fight leaves her all at once, her arms falling to her sides like broken wings. I hold on for three more heartbeats, feeling the pulse beneath my fingers flutter and fade.
When I finally release her, she crumples to the floor like discarded cloth.
Silence crashes over the room—complete, suffocating silence that presses against my eardrums until they ache. Even the wind outside seems to have stilled, as if the world itself holds its breath.
Vaelra stares at her daughter's body, her face a mask of shock so complete it looks carved from stone. Slowly, she sinks toher knees beside Mariselle, one trembling hand reaching out to touch the still face.
"You drove him to his grave."
Vaelra flinches as if struck. When she looks up at me, her carefully composed facade has shattered completely. Tears stream down her cheeks, cutting tracks through powder and rouge.
"I loved him." The confession sounds torn from her throat. "I truly loved Edric, and I thought... I thought if I could just secure our future, make us safe..." She looks down at Mariselle again, her shoulders shaking.
She rises on unsteady legs, backing toward the door without taking her eyes off Mariselle's body.
"I can't... I can't…" Her voice gains strength as she reaches the threshold. "This house, this family—it's cursed. Poisoned from the roots up."
"Vaelra—"
"No." She raises one hand to stop me. "I'll take nothing. I deserve nothing. Let the stones remember what we've done here."
The front door opens and closes with a soft click. Her footsteps fade down the path, leaving only the sound of my ragged breathing and the terrible, pressing weight of what I've done.
The reality hits all at once—Mariselle's lifeless form sprawled across my father's floor, her neck bearing the marks of my fingers. The rage drains away like water through sand, leaving me hollow and shaking.
My knees buckle.
Strong arms catch me before I hit the floor, pulling me against a chest that smells of shadow and flame. Azrath's hand cradles the back of my head as sobs tear from my throat—ugly, wrenching sounds that echo off the walls.
"I killed her." The words come out broken, barely recognizable. "I killed her, Azrath. I'm a murderer."
"You're justice." His voice rumbles against my ear, steady and sure. "She poisoned an innocent man. She deserved what she received."
I cling to Azrath like he's the only solid thing in a world gone liquid, and let myself break apart in his arms.
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