"I would know it in any world, any life, any form, anywhere in time and space. I would die for these lavender eyes to glitter with warmth - anytime, anywhere."
His words constrict around my heart like golden barbs. The beauty of them excruciating.
...
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Alyssandra scoffs as I just stare at her, my face blank. Now, that's an art I have mastered.
"Right. And yet, here you are, and here", she tips down her chin and manages a half-shrug through the shackles, "I am."
"We've both fought our ways to our current positions, I suppose.", I quickly scribble and let my lips lift in the tiniest of smirks. Both Rauld and Ashton chuckle.
"Cut to the chase - what is your verdict, Your Grace?", Alyssandra speaks in a cutting voice and injects every possible ounce of mockery into the last two words.
I tilt my head to one side as I let the information soak in, despite the fact that it is pretty presumable. I've been brought here today because certain 'guests' await my verdict, and it is pretty understandable without Ashton or anyone needing to say it out loud. Yet, when faced with it so directly, this feels like something new, and... odd.
The fact that today I hold each of their lives - and their deaths - right in the palms of my hands is a strange shot of power. A part of me is repelled at the idea, at how our positions have been reversed. In a way.
Another part wants to rejoice at the thought of it.
So, I write exactly what I think, "You think my verdict will cut the chase?"
"Are you playing dumb or has all that shit actually destroyed your brain or something?", her tone is venomous. Like a dying animal's snapping jaws.
"You have two options, witch", Ashton's voice is very calm as he speaks, with a strange light edge to it that almost makes it sound giddy, "You can be civil and hope to just die.", he holds up a finger as he speaks.
"Or", he holds up another finger, "I'll add my own verdict to whatever my mate decides and well...", he trails off, and he doesn't have to say anything more. Terror flashes in the witch's eyes.
If given the opportunity, he will let that creature of darkness that lurks right beneath his skin, out and then Alyssandra can bid adieu to the idea of mercy forever.
I sign using one hand, "What are your plans?"
I feel the Alpha's attention shift entirely onto me like a dense weight, something that reminds me of what happened upstairs and threatens to light me aflame from within. But I can tell from the way my ex-fake-sister actually shivers in unadulterated terror that his vengeful eyes are fixed right on her.
"I could start with a simple calculation - she has ruined four years of our lives. My entire pack's.", our, I can tell, is what he wants to say, "I could try to be generous and assign four years in the name of each of our nearest and dearest people, and then there's the entire ly different topic of my family."
