Meant to Be My Balance

Chapter 11

The trek back to the Grand Palace was the worst ten minutes of my life—and that was saying a lot. Mal was gone, somewhere where he could be safe. And I... I would be going back to the man who tortured him, who dethroned my best friend, who left my other with scars across her face.

The only man who matched me.

A shiver ran down my back, cold night air making goosebumps rise along my skin. There was a reason the Darkling had not ruled like this in his entire lifetime. Was it because he was waiting for an equal to help him? Was it because he knew if he had all the power, he would be unchecked and as corrupt as the Lantsovs?

And letting Mal go free? What was he playing at?

The guards at the palace gates stepped aside immediately to let me through. The oprichnik at the Darkling's chambers did the same.

He was wrapped in shadows, in a way I had never seen before. Black tendrils always swirled around his feet, against his shoulders, but now they smothered him.

"Aleksander," I said, lighting my hands as I stumbled through the dark.

The darkness only intensified, and I made my way to his bed, the light on my fingers catching against a pale cheekbone. I reached my hands out, letting my sun-filled fingers cup his face.

His eyes lifted in the dark, meeting mine, white and black and light and dark. Open and wide and vulnerable. Then, in a blink, they shuttered and his cool mask fell back into place.

"I can rule myself, Alina. I don't need your illusions to keep me company while you warm your bed with the tracker."

I let my hands fall to my sides, and I could sense the tension returning to his body. "I'm not an illusion."

He narrowed his eyes, as if testing me. Then, a sharp tug on the tether. His rosy lips parted open in surprise, a small smile curling at the edge. "Not many people surprise me, Alina."

"I'm not here for you."

"Of course not."

The shadows seceded in a slow wave, crawling back to their spots against the wall. It was still dark—only the moonlight leaking in from the window and my glowing hands illuminated the room.

"Why—why didn't you just threaten me?"

"Didn't I?"

I looked up, brows pinched together.

He let out a slow sigh, as if hesitant to reveal his secrets, his manipulation. This must've been new for him. "I knew you would return to me, Alina. We are two sides of the same coin, we belong together."

I scoffed.

He gave me a pointed look. "You're here, aren't you?"

I wiped my hands on my dirty kefta. "And Mal?" I asked, my voice hesitant.

He ran a hand through his hair, staring at a point on the wall. "I showed your friends mercy because that's what you wanted from me. But Mal..." I didn't think I'd ever heard him say his name. "I let the tracker go because I hoped he would run and you would forget his very existence." His voice cracked.

"Aleksander," I breathed, shaking my head. None of this made sense. "You—you hate Mal. You—you—did you even know what kind of place he was kept in? That... that prison wasn't even fit for dogs!"

His eyes burned into me. "Of course I knew, Alina. I created that dungeon for him. I wanted him to suffer—I wanted him to feel the pain of being demeaned and humiliated. I wanted him to wonder where you were and what I was doing to you while he rotted in a cell ten feet underground. I wanted him to feel the way I did when you left me in the middle of the night for him!" His cry ended in a choked sob, just barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing.

I knew when he realized he'd said too much. "Get out."

"Aleks—"

"Get out!" Shadows clouded him, wrapping him in their embrace and hiding him from me. No matter how much light I summoned, it was like nothing would penetrate the shield he had created. So, eyes watering up for no explicable reason, I backed away.

***

There were no papers on my desk in the morning. I assumed the Darkling had found enough of his bearings to rule the country because there were no whispers at breakfast or lunch.

Around dinner, Ivan—annoyed as usual—came up to me. "You may visit your friends in their compounds."

I knew Genya, David, Zoya, and Harshaw were being kept in a part of the Little Palace under heavy surveillance. I hadn't tried to ask the Darkling about them, but now...

"Take me to them."

Ivan grunted, unused to taking orders from an orphan. But I was a queen now—whether or not Aleksander kept ignoring me.

The rooms were orderly and neat with three guards standing outside. Good. At least they weren't underestimating my friends. I knocked thrice, and Genya's voice called out, "Go away, asshole!"

Raising my eyebrows, I pushed the door open anyway. Genya stared at me, a laugh spilling from her lips.

"Alina! Saints, I thought it was the Darkling... Come here!"

Genya wrapped her arms around me in a comforting hug, then pulled back to look at me more carefully. "Is everything okay, Alina?"

With a small, sad smile, I shook my head. She sat me down, and I told her everything. About Mal. About the choice I made. About the Darkling's reaction.

When I was done, she kept her eyes on the ground. "You... you could've left. But you stayed?"

Guilt wrenched at my heart, and I nodded.

She looked up, eyes piercing into me. "Why, Alina? After everything he's done... why did you choose him?"

I frowned. "I—I didn't choose him. I—I just knew there was no point to leaving. Nikolai's still in prison and Adrik and Nadia—"

"Alina." I looked up reluctantly. "You don't...sympathize with him, do you?"

"Of course not!"

"And... and you know that whatever titles or powers he's given you... he's just manipulating you, Alina."

"I know," I said quietly. "It's what he did the first time."

Genya took my hands in hers, squeezing them. I looked into her amber eyes as she spoke. "I trust you, Alina. I've put my life in your hands—all of us have—and we'd do it again. If you think... if you think that staying is what's best... then we'll follow your lead."

I swallowed. "You do know I'm no saint, right?"

Genya laughed and the mood lightened as she put an arm around me. "You're saintly enough, Alina."

My heart pounded against my chest. I didn't sympathize with him. I didn't trust him. I didn't believe anything he was telling me. I wasn't letting the power he was giving me go to my head. I wasn't letting him make me docile with a few touches. I wasn't thinking about the pain in his eyes from last night.

If I kept telling myself, maybe one day, it would stick. 

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