“Vann, I’m begging you,” she sobs. “Please, just… loosen the ropes. I can’t bear it,” she pants, looking up at me with those fear-struck eyes. “Take me to the prison. I don't want to hurt anyone else. Please.”
It kills me to see her like this. Not fierce nor fiery, but lost and small. I know it’s dangerous. I know. But I tell myself I’ll put her back to sleep after.
“I’m here, Firelocks. I will loosen them,” I murmur, crossing to the foot of the table bed and pulling on the ties."Ald'kar finthira, A’delor imduri."
You are not alone. I will not abandon you.
Her body eases, shoulders slumping as the sobs quiet into silent streams of tears sliding down her cheeks. I reach up to loosen her right hand.
“Gracias, mi cielo,”she whispers.
I pause, frowning. “What does that mean?”
She sniffs, regaining some of her spirit, and then—without missing a beat—she smirks weakly. “It means: thank you for not being an asshole for once.”
I arch a brow, but say nothing.
Some part of her is still her. That should be a relief.
One by one, I move around the table, loosening the knots at her wrists and ankles, watching as she relaxes. The ropes leave behind faint red imprints, and I clench my jaw against the irrational urge to run my fingers over them, to erase the damage.
Then, standing by her head, I murmur, playing her game and use my language again. I speak pretty words into the air, even if she doesn’t realize it, I want her to be at ease,“Grath’ardorien morflamara.”
Do not worry, my flame.
She blinks, eyes flicking toward me. “What does that mean?”
I smirk, lowering my voice as I think of her laughter. That was what she needed. “I’m cursing your bloodline.”
She frowns, and I realize my insensitivity. Again. I’m so fucking careless with my words.
“That was a joke.”
“You’re lucky I can’t shove you into that wall right now,” she says weakly.
“I’d consider it foreplay.”
She scowls, but there’s no heat behind it.
“What the hell is wrong with you? This is not the time for jokes,” she bites out, voice cracking.
“Arlet,” I start. There was too much tenderness in my voice. All of this was a betrayal to Adra’s memory, and yet, I couldn’t stop. Not after I saw her tears. “I have endured through more battles than you have endured human years. If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there is always time to make a situation lighter. No one believes you are a monster—least of all me.”
“Why?” she croaks. “I knew something was wrong, yet dragged my feet to seek help. If I had…”
Ahyes. Regret. I understand this emotion well.
“You sensed something was wrong, but you didn’t know what. Did you think you would kill someone?” I ask.
She bites her lip. “I didn’t want to be around children. I was… cautious. But no, I didn’t believe myself capable of this.”
A hollow smile tugs at my lips.
“I didn’t think so. We tell ourselves that being good means always making the right choices—but that’s fucking exhausting. We are all going to make mistakes. Maybe some of the blame is yours, but you didn’t choose to kill that man.”
I hold her gaze, steady. “You can claw at the past, Firelocks, but it won’t change. What matters is what you do now.”
For the first time in many months, my eyes burn. Why did this make me feel like, for just a few seconds, I had a heart?