FOR THE UNKNOWN KINGDOM | BOOK 1

CHAPTER 36

I sighed. A dozen questions sprung up in me, but I only said, "My advice about what?"

"About---about focusing my attention on something other than my thoughts. It's not working."

We'd talked about that many nights before, about how he should find a way to break free of the images that flashed before his eyes, images that were probably sent by the Devil. Being blessed by the darkness had offered him infinite power, power that ruthless emperors would sell their souls to the Devil for a sparkle of it. But for Ian it had been his greatest curse.

I laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling sadly. "I'm tired, Ian."

It was the truth. I knew that it made me seem like a selfish monster. I'd accepted that I was one. I was Hell's Leader after all. What else could I be other than heartless? I didn't deserve to be in the Gap World. I should freeze in Hell, bounded by chains so that I couldn't touch anyone and ruin their day, a gag in my mouth to prevent me from destroying their pessimistic mindset. But I had enough of their blackness. I couldn't sit around all day crying about how unfair everything was. I'd done that once. But never again would I be so ungrateful.

Taking a shuddering breath and with his eyes stuck on the floor, he murmured, "I'm tired, too. Of everything. There was no point in trying to get better anyway. Not everyone can get better."

There was anger in his voice even though it had come out as a silent whisper. And the way he threw his jacket on the floor in total disgust and rage made him look even more wrathful.

Taking a step back, my back touched the wall and I stood still. Not knowing what to expect.

"Hurting and torturing yourself isn't exactly trying to get better," I fought back.

He angled his head to the side, rolling his eyes like I'd just made the stupidest comment, like I was the stupidest person he'd ever met.

"If I'm freezing, I'm not going to think about---" he paused, his hands now messing with his curly hair. I looked at the ceiling, giving him time and space to find the right words.

"About these things," he continued.

Another pause. That time I eyed him warily but forced myself to soften my features so that he wouldn't feel like a burden.

"And?"

He lifted his brows with irritability again, too tired to further explain himself. I was too tired to listen. But as he opened his mouth to enlighten me, I urged myself to nod my head with compassion because even though he was wrong, I was the only one he had to talk to right now and if I was being ignorant toward his emotions, he would forever lock himself in the darkest place of his mind, not letting anyone come in.

The line I had to walk on was as breakable as the delicate hours of the night, when the moon had finally adorned the sky. Carrying myself with grace and kindness toward him and toward myself as well, that was what I had to do. But I was too tired to listen to his endless monologue about his unsolvable problems again. I'd done that countless nights before. Tonight, I just couldn't.

"And I'll be focused on the way my body will be shaking from the cold and forget about everything else. Can you understand it now?"

His lips were slightly trembling even after he'd stopped talking, his eyes almost watery.

I surveyed his face, his body posture, the way his fingers were toying with the ends of his shirt while the jacket still lay in the corner of the room. He focused on the wall when I didn't reply.

The worst kind of silence lingered in the air.

"Okay," I said at last.

He'd been like that for decades, or maybe more. Change didn't happen overnight, and I couldn't expect anyone to become instantly a completely different person.