Chapter 381: I am what I am
He didn’t realize what was happening until he felt the blades clash against his back one after the other.
Steel bit into flesh.
The force of it drove him forward, and shock flooded him as he found himself inside a mansion, surrounded by lords, completely unable to fathom how he had gotten there.
The last thing he remembered was escaping.
It seemed unfair—cruel even—to suddenly be on the brink of death while fighting for his life.
Still.
He fought.
He wanted to return to... return to...
He couldn’t remember.
But it didn’t matter.
He knew he needed to survive first.
Everything else would follow.
The lords gave him no room to breathe. Their blades came from every direction, forcing him to twist and dodge as best as he could. The scent of blood and smoke clung to the air.
Three lords.
Three.
It was suicide.
Still, he opened his mouth, prepared to unleash every ounce of fire and energy stored within his core if it would give him even the smallest chance at survival.
He didn’t want to die.
Not when he was so close to getting away from—
The thought had just formed when suddenly his entire body froze.
Completely.
He couldn’t move.
Not even if he wanted to.
It was as though invisible chains had wrapped around every limb, locking him in place.
Then—
The veil lifted.
Memories flooded him.
Memories that couldn’t possibly be his.
Yet they were.
One after another they slammed into him.
He saw himself killing Vivian with his own hands.
He felt her chest give way beneath his fingers.
He saw himself tearing out her heart.
Shoving it into her mouth.
He felt himself devouring her brain to absorb her memories.
The images were so vivid they made him dizzy.
Although it all happened within a second, to Clay it felt like a lifetime.
His desperate need to survive suddenly withered.
He remembered the look in her eyes.
The horror.
The pleading.
She had begged him to spare her.
And he had killed her anyway.
A look of horror barely had time to affix itself onto his face when he felt it—
A sharp pain through his chest.
Another through his head.
Another at his neck.
Blades piercing through him from multiple directions.
Clay didn’t try to stop it.
He couldn’t bring himself to.
Instead, he slowly closed his eyes.
Accepting the darkness that waited for him on the other side.
Without resistance.
Without remorse.
I am what I am.
That was his last thought.
Accepting that he was simply the monster he had been born and created to be.
Thinking he could change that—thinking his fate was his own—had been nothing more than a dream.
***********
Zyren asked the question, and to everyone present it was clear he fully expected an answer.
He crouched down beside Aria, shoving aside the flimsy piece of cloth Rymora had been pressing against the wound to stop the bleeding.
His red gaze darkened the moment he saw the extent of her injuries.
This time, he focused fully on Aria.
He was still completely calm.
But something else had crept in.
Anger.
It simmered beneath the surface, likely fueled by the silence he had been given in response to his question.
"Should I repeat myself?" he asked.
Aria knew that if he did, it would only anger him further.
It was obvious she could no longer hide her situation from him.
She slowly opened her mouth, meeting his gaze as she lay on the ground.
"My ability fades. It happens sometimes, so I didn’t think it was that serious," she told him.
As she stared into his eyes, all she could see was rage threatening to rise to the surface as he struggled to hold it back.
His voice was hoarse when he spoke.
"...And you didn’t think I should know about this?"
All Aria could do was weakly shake her head.
"I’m... I’m sorry," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
Only then did she realize that beneath the anger was something far worse.
Fear.
Immense fear.
As he stared down at her body on the floor, she understood.
She would feel the same way if it were Zyren lying there instead of her.
She couldn’t see the wound herself.
But from Zyren’s tight expression—on a man who was usually cool and composed—she could tell it was beyond serious.
The next moment, Zyren straightened.
His posture rigid.
He addressed Savira and the maid without looking away from Aria for long.
"Find a carriage and carry her into the castle. You’ll attend to her there."
Savira instantly opened her mouth, concern clear on her face.
"I think the journey back might—"
She stopped.
Zyren’s gaze fell on her.
Heavy.
Cold.
It made it abundantly clear that he was not asking for her opinion.
He was giving an order.
"Yes, my lord," Savira said, bowing her head.
At once, everyone began to move.
The maids hurried to prepare what was needed. The lords stepped aside to make arrangements and clear a path. Even Rymora, though she had nothing specific to do, moved closer to Lord Drehk to give them space.
Aria remained on the floor, her wound tightly bound.
Moving was too painful.
She wrapped her hands protectively around her belly, a faint smile appearing on her face despite everything.
"I’ll be fine," she whispered to Zyren.
He stood beside her, looking down at her with a gravely cold expression.
One she had come to recognize.
It was the stoic mask he wore to hide how he truly felt.
"My body is strong, and I’ll have no problems after I take a nap," she continued, forcing the smile to remain.
Zyren crouched down again.
His fingers slid gently through the long strands of her curly red hair.
"...Of course you’ll recover and live. What else would you do?" he whispered.
For the first time in a long while, something in his gaze scared her.
It reminded her of the king who had ordered her family killed without batting an eye.
He spoke with absolute confidence.
The kind that did not allow room for possibility.
The kind that suggested that even if the sky were falling and everyone else was dying—
She would live.
Whether she wanted to or not.
