Aelin
The downpour had softened to a steady drizzle by the time the clock struck one, but I made no move to vacate the roof.
As soon as Aedion and I had returned, I'd come up here under the guise of taking over watch for the night. Chaol and his men had followed my cousin up into the apartment from the warehouse below, their shadowy figures providing the cover needed for my still-missing mates - at least, as far as the men Arobynn had stationed on the opposite rooftop were concerned.
I tried not to think about what my mates were actually doing at this very moment. In part because I didn't give a rat's ass what they did to Arobynn - the bastard deserved whatever he got. But in part -
In part because I didn't want to confront what they were thinking as they faced down the man who had molded my existence for ten long years. Who had helped create the villain that I was.
Whether it was from the venom that poured like honey from Arobynn's lips or from experiencing the dreadful Keep I'd spent my formative years in, I'd known going into tonight that I wouldn't be able to keep the details of my past shrouded as I had thus far.
And after tomorrow, there would be no hiding from the truth. Not for me, and not for my mates.
No, they'd have to face the harsh reality that their mate was a murderer, a monster. That I'd slaughtered innocents, brought men to their knees with nothing more than my knives and reveled in the bloodshed.
I wasn't blind, I knew my mates had killed, that they had captured and interrogated their fair share of enemies over the centuries. That they'd taken revenge against those who had hurt the ones they loved. Hell - Rowan had reduced a city to rubble.
But there was a vast difference in cutting down foes on a battlefield, with the ultimate goal of protecting and defending your people, than ending the lives of others for profit - while abandoning your own people to languish in ceaseless misery.
The memories that resurfaced because of tonight finally forced me to admit that Rowan had been right, all those months ago - I was a coward.
My people would have been better off if I'd perished all those years ago. But miraculously, I hadn't. And what had I done with that gift of fate? Drowned myself in luxury, fawned about in finery paid for by the harm I'd inflicted upon others.
Nothing more than a narcissistic, deplorable monster.
And that was the hard truth my mates would have to swallow as well.
Alone on the roof, soaked to the bone, I allowed memory after memory to wash over me. Of my initial training, the days locked in that dark, dank dungeon with nothing but stale bread and cloudy water to sustain me. The first man I had ever tortured, how his pale blue eyes had already been broken and empty when Arobynn had led me into his cell.
My first kill. How the nine year old child I had been had tried so, so hard to keep on a brave face - only to break down into hysterics the moment I was safely barricaded in my room.
How the second was immeasurably easier, done with hands that were already stained red.
Nameless faces flashed before my eyes, the vision of their last breath fluttering across my mind like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Nameless. Lifeless. Because of me.
Worse still was the countless innocents, sold into slavery and condemned to death. The ones who - even when I was one of them - I couldn't help, couldn't save. Could do nothing but watch as they were dragged into darkened corners of the mines, their screams and begging bouncing off the stone walls as we worked. Embedding themselves in the very bedrock of the tunnels.
All those people. From Terresan, from Eyllwe, and Melisande, and Fenharrow. All toiling away in agony - while I draped myself in lavishness, attended extravagant parties and danced to the tune of glorious music for hours on end.
The one time I'd managed to save any of them, it had only resulted in one thing - the sharp impact of Arobynn's fist crashing against my cheek, the cold metal of his rings cutting into my flesh - followed by my broken, bleeding body shipped off into the Red Desert.
Every moment of the time I'd been Celaena Sardothien was etched into my very bones, and I relived it all as I stood on that rooftop, each sensation as bright and cutting as it had felt at the time. The isolation. The pain. The horror. The cold, gaping maw where my heart had once resided.
It was all so painfully clear to me.
A decade of harrowing memories crashed over me, threatening to crush me under their weight. The shame of each vile, wicked act was nearly enough to lead me to ruin. It was difficult to draw breathe under the strain of it all, but it was better I face them now -
Before they were thrown in my face by the males who owned my heart and soul.
Absentmindedly, I wondered if was better to have known what it was like to be cherished, to be showered in adoration in the way only my mates could - the kind of love I might have deserved in another life - only to have it ultimately ripped away, leaving me bereft and shattered once again.
Just like I'd been when Sam was taken from me. I hadn't deserved him either.
At least, this time, when I was abandoned, I would still have my purpose.
Because it didn't matter that they would forsake me after tomorrow - in all honesty, I didn't even blame them - they were still mine. Mine to love. Mine to protect.
They were still the males who had walked that dark path with me until I'd emerged into the light for the first time in ten brutal years. The males to whom the solitary bright speck of my soul was credited.
And it was for them that I would save this world, and theirs. For them that I would reforge the realms, gladly giving all of myself, until not even a speck of dust remained, until I was nothing more than a spark of a half-formed memory.
I would do all of it, without complaint, for them. Only them.
It was nearing three when soft footsteps disrupted my solitary vigil. At that point, I was utterly, impossibly drained. There wasn't even a solitary ember remaining capable of rousing my desolate spirit. So I said nothing. I stood there, soaked to the bone, facing westward - across the city, staring towards the insidious Keep that marked the birth of my downfall.
I could feel the heat of the towering male body as he stopped several feet behind me.
The sodden tiles beneath my feet bled golden where the lamplight glinted off the golden combs in my drenched hair, the golden dragon still carving a path up my spine. Damp tendrils clung to my face, but I didn't have the energy to push them away.
"It would truly be a shame if you ruined that dress standing out here in the rain." Cassian's deep voice rumbled.
I couldn't muster the strength to turn to look at him. Knowing that he would see the streaks of kohl the rain had left on my cheeks, read the guilt, anger and anguish in my eyes as clear as day.
Knowing that whatever I would see in his face would hit me like a blow to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs more effectively than any opponent ever could.
So I just continued to stare out at the city. "It doesn't matter. I was never going to wear this dress again, anyway."
How could I? When all it would do would be to remind me of this night - the last time my mates looked at me with love in their eyes, right before I'd burned it all to the ground.
"We took care of it," he said gently. Too gently. "Though I have to ask, why Lysandra?"
I knew what he was asking. While I didn't know why, I also didn't care to question it. This was a gift, a precious moment to soak in the exact timbre of his voice - maybe one of the last.
I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging tight. "Because more than me, more than anyone else, Lysandra deserved to be the one to end him. What he took from her ... it can't be replaced."
I shuddered so violently that I saw the light shimmering off the gold in my dress, remembering how he had wanted to take that very thing from me. Yes, Lysandra deserved to deliver his far-overdue death. And besides, she wasn't the monster in this scenario - I was.
I shook my head, spraying droplets of rain off the combs and the strands of hair that had come loose. Some broken, despondent shard of my soul had me continuing to speak, though I hardly knew why.
"It feels wrong," I confessed softly. "I thought it would be a relief, a joy to get through tonight. But all I feel is hollow. And tired."
Cassian's arm sliding around me, folding me into his side should have been a shock, but -
All I could feel was the delicious heat of his skin, warming my wind and rain-chilled skin, attempting to melt my frozen heart. I shouldn't, no - couldn't - let myself thaw, but still -
Just this once - just this one, last time, I'd let him hold me. Let myself pretend that everything was normal, that I wouldn't have to endure what I knew was coming - what I knew I deserved.
With a sigh, I rested my head against his chest, hoping beyond reason that my tears wouldn't betray me now. The tips of my bat-wing combs dug into him enough that after a moment, he eased them one at a time from my hair. The soft caress of his fingers nearly enough to undo me.
From the corner of my eye, I watched as he admired their craftsmanship, and I murmured, "I want you to sell those. And anything else of value in the apartment. I want you to burn this dress, though."
At least that way I could still make sure they were provided for while I worked to return their kingdom to them.
"As you wish," he said, pocketing the combs. "Such a pity, though. Your enemies would have fallen to their knees if they ever saw you in it."
I had no idea my General-mate was such an accomplished liar. Though, I supposed it made sense why they sent him to deal with me, and no one else. I wondered how they would do it, how they would ruin me beyond repair.
In a way, though, they already had.
I huffed a laugh that might have been a sob, hugging myself tighter. My eyes burned with unshed tears when his arms encircled mine, pulling me more solidly within his embrace. My sodden hair tumbled down, the scent of him - snow-kissed wind and crackling embers - rising above the smell of almonds to dance across my senses.
I wanted to rage at the cruelty of it all.
Cassian turned his head down to look at me, rain dripping off his night-kissed hair. His features softened a bit, the harsh lines becoming more inviting - vulnerable even.
His heartless façade didn't falter as he lifted a hand to cup my chin, lifting my face to meet his. "Tell me what you're thinking."
My lips parted without my permission, and I breathed, "I'm thinking it's finally the end. It's all over."
The calluses of his fingers were startlingly gentle when they brushed against my cheek. I waited for him to pull back, to finally end his ruse, but he just stared at me - stared into me, as though he wanted his next words to be imprinted on my very soul.
I was still, held captive by his honeyed hazel eyes as he lifted his free hand to trace my temple. Carefully, he stroked his other thumb across my cheekbone, and it hit me like a stone - the wanting. The realization that I would never escape it, the part of my very being that would always scream for him, for them - even when I'd already accepted that there was no reality in which they would want a future with me.
He slid his fingers down the side of my other cheek, as he breathed, "Aelin." His rough exhale was a plea and an apology. "It is. It's over."
And just like that, I broke.
Faster than he could react, I grabbed one wrist and then the other, yanking them away from my face, the world yawning open around me - cold and still. Hopeless.
I dropped his hands, stepping away, throat closing up as I snarled out a sound that was far too close to a sob, "Don't do that. Don't - touch me like that. Not now."
There was a roaring in my ears, a burning in my throat. The world around me blurred, his beautiful face hidden from me as he said brokenly, "I'm sorry. I -"
Oh, gods.
This was it. This was the moment they left me forever, and I - I ...
I couldn't do it. Couldn't hear him say those final, damning words.
I backed away a step, toward the door. Then another. "It's fine," I croaked out. "I understand. I just - can't."
Can't hear him say it. Can't watch his face as those eyes that once burned with love were filled with nothing but condemnation and regret.
The world was spinning, the rooftop swaying beneath my feet.
"I -" I scrubbed at the oily smear of cosmetics still coating my face. "I - I have to go."
And with that, I'm running, bare feet pounding across the rain-slicked tiles, no destination in mind. Only the unfaltering certainty that I can't be here. I'd faced so much in my life, but this, this was too much. This crossed the gods-damned line of what abuse I was fated to suffer.
I'm leaping across the gap of the alleyway below to the neighboring rooftop when the wind carries Cassian's last words to me. His hoarse shout of, "Aelin!"
But I'm already gone, out of his reach.
Alone again.
Cassian
I couldn't breathe as I watched Aelin race across the rooftops, still frozen from the burning agony that lanced through my veins. When she'd pulled away from me, she may as well have ripped my heart from my chest and taken it with her.
The now-useless organ thudded in my chest, loud and deafening in the suffocating silence I was left behind in.
I didn't want to move, to blink - praying to the cauldron, to all that was holy, that I would wake from the horrific nightmare this night had turned into. All that my befuddled mind could conjure was that this was not how I expected to come down from the high of ferrying in the demise of the King of Assassins.
Returning to the apartment, I'd been on cloud nine. Each blow, each slice of the blade, each new torment inflicted against the man who'd made my mate's life a living hell had been a siren song in my blood, a shot of righteous electricity into my very soul. I'd come to find my mate, euphoric in the knowledge that there was one less man who'd harmed her alive and breathing.
I was exultant, triumphant that I had finally been able to eradicate one of her enemies. The first of a very long list. It had been an effort not to take her the moment I saw her - standing in the rain like some long-forgotten goddess, breathtaking in all her glory.
But, instead of celebrating the momentous occasion with my mate -
She pulled away from me. Snapped at me. Shut me out.
Don't touch me like that.
I was immortal. Over five hundred years old. And never before had I experienced such soul-rendering misery as when my mate turned away from me and fled from my presence.
Her words echoed through my mind, turning them over and over again to no avail.
Don't touch me like that. Not now.
The heartbreak in her eyes, the way her voice broke on a sob as she backed away from me. Me. Her mate. I couldn't make sense of it.
How could the world have been flipped on its head so soon after we'd righted such a heinous wrong?
If I hadn't been so foolish, so stupidly unaware, maybe I would have the faintest clue as to what had gone so terribly wrong. What I had done to drive her away.
Because it had to be me, didn't it? Had to be something I had done when I was so senselessly ignorant, too busy riding the blissful wave of having my precious mate returned to me, to finally being able to avenge one of far too many wrongs she'd endured.
What had I done?
My mind raced, willing an answer to surface, a solution to reveal itself. None came.
Numbly, I turned, forcing myself to return to the warmth of the apartment below, all the delight and glory that had been coursing through my veins what felt like only moments before nothing but a forgotten memory.
Mindlessly, my feet carried me downstairs, the once-comforting warmth like sandpaper against my too-sensitive skin. I freeze when I reach the living room, assaulted by the image of Rowan, Cassian and Azriel - still buoyant and gleeful, joking and laughing with Aedion while they waited for me to return with our mate.
I don't make a sound, but they must have sensed my arrival, because suddenly all heads are turned my way. Their mouths are moving, but I don't hear a word. I can only watch as their expressions shift, transforming from open to expectant to stiff and laced with concern.
Still, I don't speak.
Then there are hands on my shoulders, roughly shaking me. Azriel's face is an inch from mine, and his demand breaks through the cacophony of buzzing that has filled my ears up until now.
"Cassian." His voice is harsh, unyielding. "Where is Aelin?"
And the world falls out from beneath my feet. The truth of what just occurred hits me like a sack of bricks, knocking the air clean from my lungs. The room blurs, my eyes burning with tears I don't even attempt to hide.
"Gone," I managed to croak out. "Aelin is gone."