"Mine. The language of love is like that, possessive. That should be the first warning that it's not going to encourage anyone's betterment." - Holly Black
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Valen's arm is unmovable. Alia tries to adjust his hold around her so she can slip off the couch, but it's as if his limb is solid steel. If she keeps trying to wiggle out from underneath his arm, she might just end up hurting herself. So she looks down at his face again, thumb stroking his cheekbone, and decides to focus on communicating with Death after he awakens.
Wiping at her tears, Alia sniffles and takes a deep breath. Talking to the God will have to be something she does on her own. She doesn't want him anywhere near Valen, especially not after what he did to him in the Dytikos forest.
If what that other God says is true, about how Death will destroy this entire Kingdom if harm comes to her mate, then she'll make Death hate Evropí as much as she does. If she could use a blade to slit the throats of each and every one of them, she would, but Alia is no match for an entire Pack. Especially not the deranged demons of Evropí.
Twisting and sliding down onto her side, Alia finds herself facing Valen as she lies beside him. He hasn't moved an inch, unfazed by her graceless movements. She slowly runs her fingers through his hair, chin trembling as she watches him sleep. A selfish part of her wants to believe that he's dreaming about peaceful things, happy things, just so she doesn't have to consider the possibility that he's never been able to free his mind from Evropí's torment.
Her chest tightens at his peaceful expression. How can his body and mind portray two different things? She wants to be able to read him, understand him, but that won't happen until she reads more of his memories. She won't be able to understand why he does the things he does until she fills her mind with the horrors of his past.
She wonders if these memories are the reason he refused to sleep last night. Guilt invades her heart when she remembers how she pleaded for him to rest, even when he told her he didn't need to. But the strain in his eyes, and the fatigue in his movements told Alia otherwise. She thought she was helping him by persuading him to sleep, but with this new revelation, Alia suspects she may have done just the opposite.
Reading his memories is barely manageable, but reliving them? Alia wouldn't wish that on anyone. Especially not the man who warms her soul with every touch. Gods, she just wants to slip into his mind and free him from the shackles of remembering. Why can't he regain his memories without having to feel everything? Why can't he just be a spectator, safe and unharmed?
Alia wraps an arm around him, leg swinging over his hips. She pulls herself flush against him, eyes drifting to his throat which lies inches away from her. The desire to kiss his skin is strong, but the need to comfort him is stronger. So, she closes her eyes and hopes with everything she has that her touch will do something to ease the pain inside his mind.
An arm wraps tighter around Alia's back, holding her close as a pleased rumble leaves Valen's chest. Alia's brows furrow, concern slowly leaving her as his expression remains calm. He blinks as he regains consciousness, eyelids heavy. Alia releases a breath, relieved at the absence of torment in his gaze.
But then his eyes widen, and he's off the couch in a flash. Standing at the archway of the living room, Valen looks down at Alia with complete distrust. He scans the room, eyes slowly turning gold as Alia sits up. He pulls out a blade from underneath a nearby table, movements steady as he listens for other wolves.
"What's wrong?" Alia pushes herself onto her feet. Valen's eyes snap to hers, cold and invading. It makes her shrink back, muscles tensing at the power behind them. Her voice lowers to a whisper, "Valen?"
"Why is she here?" He glares at the room, desperate to find something Alia can't see. "Why is she in my head?"
Alia moves closer to him, grabbing onto the couch to keep her upright, but he raises the blade at her in warning, veins appearing underneath his golden eyes. "Don't."
She stills, eyes on the blade. He thinks she's inside his head? Alia looks at him again, but he's not looking at her. Instead, he's scanning the ceiling, eyes focused. Does he think he's still asleep?
"Valen," she repeats. "You're awake. I'm not inside your head."
"Nice try." He walks into the hallway and leaves her sight. But she can still hear his words. "You don't give me any memories so you give me this instead?" Doors are opened and closed as he inspects the entire house. "What is she going to do? Are you going to make her shove a blade through my chest? Will she make me bleed instead of Evropí?" He re-enters the living room and takes in Alia's standing frame. His grip tightens on the blade, fingers tensing. "Did you choose her because you knew I wouldn't harm her?"
Alia frowns, hands itching to reach for him. She can feel her eyes sting, vision blurring.
Then his hands begin to tremble, and despair flashes through his gaze. "Or is it because you knew her pain would hurt me more than any blade?"
Valen's hands move up to his hair, fingers grabbing at the strands as he squeezes his eyes shut in frustration.
"Valen, I don't know what you think this is, but I'm real. I'm—"
A fork shifts in a drying rack, and Valen's blade slices through the air towards it. The steel tip digs into the plastic holder, directly touching the fork in question.
He straightens, jaw clenching as he tries to regain himself. He doesn't look at her. "Tell me something only she would know."
Alia wipes at her eyes, scrambling through her brain to think of something to tell him. She latches onto a memory — a memory where she shoved a blade through the base of a guard's jaw in the Palace. "After I killed the Beta," she says. "A Palace guard came into the dining room just as I was leaving. I killed him and ran, and I thought it would eat me up inside — killing a man who shouldn't have been killed. But I feel nothing for him. No guilt, no regret, nothing. I used to be upset at my indifference to death, but now I think it's because I've already experienced the worst kind."
Valen hesitates, veins disappearing. "The worst kind?"
"The death of my parents."
Valen shakes his head, hands running down his face. His muscles relax, but the whites of his eyes begin to turn red. Tears fill his waterline as he looks at her. "I'm awake?"
Alia nods, heart clenching. She raises her arms towards him, inviting him into her embrace. He moves towards her.
A handful of golden rays raise from the floor behind him.
Resembling leafless vines, the rays grow taller and taller and Alia finds herself sucking in a breath at the sight. Images flash from a past dream of hers, reminding her that she's seen them before. But instead of being in the tavern, they're here. In Valen's home.
Before Valen can reach her, the rays wrap around his limbs and slam him to the ground. His back cracks the wooden panels, a surprised grunt leaving him as he looks at each restraint with wide eyes. Alia drops next to him, hands frantic as she tries to slice them away with her claws, but her hands grab air. Her breaths quicken when the sound of the rays wrapping tighter and tighter around him reaches her ears. Valen cries out in frustration, veins pulsating in his arms as he tries to break free.
"I-I can't cut them off!" Alia's hands shake as she continues to try and slice through the rays. He pulls harder, and she can see how his skin bends underneath each vine.
Another ray slides across Valen's throat, forcing his head back onto the floor as it restricts his breathing. Alia screams out in anger, hands trying to protect his neck. Two rays sprout up from the ground towards his ears before slipping inside.
Valen stills and his eyes become a pupil-less, cloudy white.
Alia's quick breaths fill the silent home, tears meeting Valen's skin as she calls out his name.
From root to tip, each strand of his hair slowly becomes white. Alia jolts back, stunned. Then she's on her feet, adrenaline pumping through her, and running towards the sink for a knife.
Even if she has to spend hours trying, those rays are getting off of her mate.
Spotting Valen's blade, Alia pulls it out of the drying rack and spins back around to run to him.
Death stands at Valen's feet, black wings brushing against the wooden floor as he looks down at the white-haired male. Alia freezes, white knuckles gripping the blade. Her heart jumps in her chest, paranoid at the possibility of him harming her mate.
Death tilts his head, bandaged eyes taking in every golden restraint. "This is why I could never find you," he whispers, a hint of resentment in his words. "You buried it underground."
Dried, black blood trails down from Death's ears, ash covering his forearms and neck. Only wearing black trousers, the bottom of one leg is torn into ribbons, dried black blood coating the skin underneath. Alia can smell Valen's scent on the fabric, and she realises that his hands were responsible for making the God bleed. His shirtless chest is covered in streaks of dried blood, resembling the path of claws as it reveals an image of what occurred between the two in Dytikos.
A circular pattern of blood surrounds the skin where Death's heart would be. It makes Alia wonder if Valen tried to remove the organ in a moment of rage. But the streaks of blood are huge, much larger than the size of normal claws, and it has her hesitating in her thoughts.
Alia moves forward in an attempt to shield Valen.
Death looks at the ceiling and makes a circle with his finger. A ring of flames appears above him, encasing a passage to an environment covered in white clouds. He adjusts his wings, ready to soar through the portal.
"Wait!" Alia shouts, desperate.
Death doesn't look at her, but his voice drips with hatred. "What is it, mortal?"
"The other God, the one with the shadows—"
"Darkness."
"Yes, Darkness! He said you care for Valen. He said you'd wipe out this entire Kingdom if harm came to him."
"That's right."
"Well, harm has come to him. And I was hoping you'd do something about it."
Death turns to her, teeth bared in a snarl. "Tell me."
"Evropí. A pack that shares our borders. They're the ones responsible for his scars."
Death beats his wings, causing a powerful gust of wind to slam Alia back into the kitchen counters, and takes off through the portal.
When the ring of flames shrinks into a dwindling spark, Alia runs towards Valen and begins her attempts at slicing through the unbreakable rays.
Each beat of Sephtis' wings is deafening to the creatures of the forest below. His bandaged gaze scans the canopies below as his ears listen for signs of Evropí's border. Spending 800 years searching through the Land of Mortals has allowed him to know every inch of this pathetic place. He's scoured every forest, every ocean, every Pack for Lycaon, and it was all for nothing.
Fury builds inside of him, wind trying to slow down his body from tearing through the skies. But he pushes through, hands itching to bathe in blood.
Bustling sounds of conversation reach his ears and he focuses his attention on the busy centre of Evropí. He flies past the border, reaching the edge of the mainland of the Pack in seconds.
He straightens himself in the air, wings keeping him above the fearful eyes of wolves below him. They stop their activities, eyes unable to leave the embodiment of Death, and it makes Sephtis revel in the feeling of their shrinking souls.
Reaching for his bandage, he pulls it down to his neck. His blood-red eyes command the land below, wings turning into flames as the ground splits into windows of the underworld. Searing blasts of air turn nearby wolves to ash just as blood-curdling screams begin to shake the air around them. Buildings crumble to the ground, unable to withstand the powerful tremors pulsating through the land as it destroys everything in their paths. The sky burns a fiery orange, resembling their next abode.
Evropí wolves try to run for cover, but a single command slips through Sephtis' lips, and it causes the entire Pack to burst into flame:
"Burn."
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Let's all say 'thank you Sephtis' 😌