Rain of Shadows and Endings — Chapter no 41

41

THEON

H is feet slammed against the pavement as he ran along the roads outside the Acropolis.

He had no idea how long he’d been running, but he hadn’t slowed when the storm had rolled in. He hadn’t stopped to catch his breath when the first drops fell. He hadn’t faltered when thunder cracked and lightning streaked across the sky.

He ran and ran, trying to outrun hearing Pen’s cries of pain. Trying to outrun seeing her crumpled body. Trying to outrun the failure of Axel ending her misery when it should have been him. He was the one who was supposed to protect them, and yet he’d failed once again.

Sweat mixed with the rain dripping down his face. His phone kept ringing, the callers

announced in his earbuds as he ran.

Luka.

Luka.

His mother.

Unknown caller.

Luka.

He ignored them all.

There wasn’t even music playing. It was just silence. Just him and his thoughts.

Him and his failures.

Him and Caris’s tears as he was forced to watch her be tortured for his failures.

Him and Cienna’s wide eyes when he’d told her to run.

Him and Pen’s pained wails as Eviana drove a blade into her gut.

Him and Axel’s snarls of helpless rage as he ended Pen’s life.

Him and Tessa’s cries as she’d begged him not to leave her in the wine cellar.

It wasn’t terribly small. She’d be fine.

Another crack of thunder had him second-guessing that final thought.

He’d had no choice. He couldn’t stand to look at her knowing her actions had caused all of this failure, and he couldn’t leave her alone. On the off chance his father returned, he’d warded the cellar as well as drawn a Mark to soundproof it. Unless his father went looking in the wine cellar, he wouldn’t find her. He also wouldn’t look in the wine cellar. It was beneath him to do his own dirty work.

That’s why Eviana had done the torturing.

That’s why Axel had done the killing.

So many failures.

His shoes splashed in puddles, cold water soaking his socks and shins as the rain continued to pour down, but he didn’t stop. Five calls came though, one right after another.

All of them from Luka. Then came a message that played through his earbuds:

Luka: Fucker, answer your phone.

When a call rang through again, he ignored it, turning in the opposite direction of the townhouse as lightning flashed, illuminating the night sky.

It was after midnight when he stepped into the foyer, water dripping off of him and pooling on the floor. The storm was still raging outside. He could only assume the Fae he’d locked in the wine cellar was raging too.

He shook his head, water droplets spraying. He was exhausted and more than ready to shower, have a drink, and sleep. In the morning, he’d have a clearer head to deal with Tessa.

He’d be back in control.

“Luka?” he called out.

“In here.”

Theon followed his voice to the kitchen to find him sitting at the island, a bottle before him with an empty glass.

Peeling off his drenched shirt, he tossed it to the floor. Luka glanced at it before he refilled his glass. “We don’t have someone to clean up after us right now, asshole.”

Theon flinched, Pen’s lifeless face flashing in his mind again.

“Did you…?”

Luka nodded. “I have the ashes in a glass case in my room.”

“Good,” he said, swiping the bottle and tipping it to his mouth as he sat beside Luka.

“Where is she?” Luka asked.

Theon didn’t need to ask who he was talking about.

“In the wine cellar.”

Luka’s sapphire eyes cut to the pantry before fixing on his liquor glass once more.

“How long are you leaving her down there?”

“I can’t look at her tonight.”

Luka only nodded, understanding all the reasons those words were true.

Neither of them said anything for a long time, the minutes bleeding into an hour, then two. They took turns drinking from the bottle, Luka having abandoned his glass.

He was sliding the bottle across the counter when he finally broke the silence. “This will break her. She’ll never forgive you for this.”

Theon brought the bottle to his lips, tipping the last of the agaveheart down his throat.

“I know.”

He stood in the pantry, a mug of coffee clutched in his hand. He’d removed the soundproofing Mark, but there was no noise coming from the other side of the door. The sun had been up for at least an hour, the sky clear for once, and he’d been standing here.

Staring at a door.

Trying to figure out what he was going to find when he opened it.

The sound of footsteps made him glance at the doorway to find Luka holding his own mug of coffee. He leaned against the doorjamb, staring at Theon, who had returned to staring at the door.

“Have we heard from Axel?” Theon asked without looking at him.

“No. How long have you been standing here?”

“Ten minutes.”

Luka took a drink from his mug.

“I had to do it,” Theon said.

“I know.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“I know.”

“We need to prepare for the Emerging Ceremony.”

“I know.”

“Stop saying ‘I know,’” Theon snapped.

Luka just took another drink of his coffee, then took Theon’s mug when he held it out to him.

“I don’t feel guilty about this,” Theon said, reaching for the door handle.

“We don’t have the luxury of guilt.”

“No matter what state I find her in, this was worth it. She’ll understand the gravity of the situation. I’ll never have to do this again.”

Luka didn’t say it, but Theon knew what he was thinking— That from the very beginning he had said Tessa wasn’t the one for this.

Last night had proved just how right he’d been all along.

With a harsh breath, Theon pulled the door open, finding the wine cellar pitch black.

He hit the switch, but no light turned on. He flicked it a few more times, but there was nothing.

Had the storm done something? That didn’t seem possible. Storms didn’t interfere with the magic that powered their homes and buildings.

“Here.” Luka tossed orbs of black flames above them. It didn’t really illuminate anything, but the faint glow allowed them to at least make out the stairs.

Slowly, Theon started down, sticking close to the wall. “Tessa?”

But there was no answer. Only the strong odor of wine. If she was drunk down here… Well, he couldn’t really blame her. He’d locked her in a wine cellar for fuck’s sake, knowing exactly what kind of panic it would send her into.

“Tessa,” he called a little louder. “Tessa, answer—”

But he was cut off by the sound of something crunching under his shoes when he

stepped off the last stair.

“What the…?”

He blinked as Luka produced more dragon fire to illuminate the entirety of the cellar.

There was glass everywhere. Broken wine bottles. Shattered lights. Wine covered the floor, red liquid staining the empty wine racks where the alcohol had dripped down to pool on the

floor.

And in the center of it all was Tessa.

She was curled on her side, her knees clutched to her chest, and her face buried in them. Her golden hair was a mess of knots, as if she’d been pulling on it, and it was stained the same color as the wine racks.

“Tessa,” Theon breathed, unable to move as he stared down at her.

He’d known this would break her, but he still hadn’t expected…this.

She hadn’t made any movement or shown any sign that she knew they were there. She couldn’t be…dead. He’d have felt the Source connection break. Besides, Fae could only be killed in so many ways, and death by glass or wine was not one of them.

“It has to be you and the bond,” Luka said, his voice quiet and tense from beside him.

Nodding, Theon slowly approached her. When he reached her side, he used his shoes to brush aside glass so he could lower beside her. There was nothing he could do about the wine though, and he felt it soak through the knee of his pants.

“Tessa?”

When there was still nothing, he reached for her, touching her shoulder, then he

yanked his hand back.

“Fuck!”

“What?” Luka demanded, immediately dropping down beside him.

“I got a…shock when I touched her.”

“A shock?”

“Yes,” Theon gritted out, shaking his hand. His fingers were still tingling. In fact, his entire arm was tingling.

“Can your power protect you?” Luka asked.

Gods, he hoped so.

With shadows coating his hand, he reached for her again, sighing in relief when he didn’t receive another jolt from his Source.

“Tessa,” he said softly. “Tessa, I need you to look at me.”

Reaching for her hands, he tugged them from where they were wound around her legs.

Once he had her untangled from herself, he rolled her onto her back. Her eyes were swollen, puffy from crying. Tear trails tracked through the wine staining her cheeks. Her entire face was covered in cuts, smears of blood mixing with the wine. She didn’t look at him. If anything, she seemed to stare through him.

“Fuck,” Theon cursed again, low under his breath this time. He reached for her, moving to lift her from the ground as he murmured, “Come on, little storm,” but she

suddenly moved.

Fast.

Far faster than she’d ever moved before.

She scrambled back from him, hissing as her palms were sliced open on the shattered glass.

“Tessa,” Theon said in shock. “Don’t do this. We need to get you cleaned up. The Emerging Ceremony is tonight.”

“Tonight,” she repeated, her voice completely void of any emotion.

“Yes. Tonight.”

“It’s the next day.”

Fuck me, Theon thought, swiping a hand down his face. What had he been thinking doing this the night before the Emerging Ceremony?

He hadn’t been. That was the fucking problem. He’d lost control completely.

Another failure to add to the list with the consequences staring back at him.

“Yes, Tessa. It’s the next morning.”

“And the Emerging Ceremony is tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Theon looked at Luka, not knowing what else to do.

“Tessa, do you need one of us to carry you?” Luka asked, getting up and taking a

tentative step forward.

“No,” she answered.

“Do you need us to help you up?”

“No.”

But she made no move to stand on her own.

Theon pushed to his feet, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Tessa, you either need to get to your feet, or I’m going to have to entrance you.”

“Don’t,” she said. It was stoic and calm, but her mannerisms were anything but as she clawed at the wall she was pressed against, clamoring to her feet.

“Tessa, you don’t have shoes on. At least let me carry you up the stairs,” he tried.

“No.”

“You’ll cut your feet up with all this glass. Look at your hands.”

She lifted them before her face, turning them over as she studied them in the faint

light. “I’m bleeding.”

“I know, beautiful.”

She was quiet, continuing to study her hands in the low light of the dragon fire. “You made me bleed,” she murmured.

“I’m going to carry you up the stairs. As soon as we reach the top, I’ll put you down, all right?”

She didn’t object again, so Theon cautiously slid his arms behind her knees and shoulders, trying to avoid the cuts on her back. His shadows kept him from direct contact with her skin. Any exposed flesh was cut, blood and wine dried to her skin. The dress she’d worn to dinner was covered in small rips and tears from the glass and was sticky and wet

from the alcohol.

What had happened down here?

As soon as they reached the top of the stairs, he set her down as promised, but the bond snarled internally, reaching for her as she leaned against the wall. Or maybe that was his magic wanting to touch her again. Sometimes the bond and his gifts were so intertwined, he couldn’t tell them apart anymore.

“We need to get the glass out, and then I can heal as much as I can before you bathe,”

Theon said.

“I can do it.”

“You can…remove the glass from your feet and hands?”

“Yes.”

“But it would be faster if we helped,” Theon said.

Tessa shrugged, looking at something over his shoulder.

“We don’t even need to go upstairs right now,” Theon went on. “We can clean out the glass in the kitchen.”

She pushed off the wall without a word, walking gingerly to the kitchen island where she pulled herself onto a stool.

“Get what we need,” he murmured to Luka.

He could use his power to remove the glass, but having to heal all of those cuts would drain him even more. She needed to look perfect tonight, and he wasn’t about to take any blood from her. Not after what he’d done to her last night.

“Do you want something to eat?” he asked her, leaning against the opposite counter.

“No.”

“Something to drink?”

“No.”

“Do I…” He swiped a hand down his face, sighing. “Do I need to heal a hangover?”

That had her dragging her eyes to him. It was the first time she’d looked directly at him, and he sucked in a breath. He could finally see her clearly in the light and that was violet ringing her grey eyes. Not around the pupils like it had before, but around the outer

edges of her irises.

And it wasn’t fading.

“I did not drink any wine,” she replied in that same monotone voice. “I know I have my vices, but even I am above lapping wine off the floor like a hound.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that’s what you did,” he replied, his fingers clutching at the counter behind him, grateful she was speaking. “I’m just trying to figure out what

happened.”

“You locked me in the wine cellar.”

“I—”

“You locked me in a wine cellar, despite knowing that’s how I was handled at the Estate. Despite knowing I do not like enclosed spaces. Despite knowing that it would—”

She stopped abruptly, those violet rings glowing brighter. Her voice had risen with every word, but when she spoke again, it was once again void of feeling. “You locked me in the

wine cellar.”

“How did the wine end up on the floor?”

“The bottles broke.”

“You spent the entire time in the dark?”

“Was it dark?”

“The lights were shattered, Tessa.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“You didn’t…notice?” he repeated, perplexed.

“Shadows are cunning, don’t you think? The light doesn’t realize the shadows are circling until there’s nowhere for them to go. It’s either join the shadows, or drown in the

darkness.”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

She’d fallen silent again, starting to pick at the cuts on her arm, and Theon moved forward, closing his hand around her fingers. “I’ll take care of it, Tessa.”

“Once again, I need tending to because of you,” she murmured.

And while it sounded more like she was speaking to herself than him, he still felt the words in the depths of his being. Another person he’d promised to protect, only to fail.

He looked down at where he held her hand. Her nails were broken, cracked and

bleeding.

“What happened to your hands, Tessa?”

“I couldn’t find a way out. There were no windows. No cracks. No where to dig…”

She trailed off as Theon realized she had tried to claw her way out of the cellar.

Luka reappeared, two forceps in one hand along with a few towels, but he also had a robe.

“You should get out of that dress, little one,” he said.

Without a word, she slipped from the stool and began sliding the thin straps of the dress down her arms. Theon started to object, but Luka had already stepped from the room, leaving them alone once more.

“You were going to change in front of him?” he asked tightly, holding her steady when she stepped from the dress.

“He’s seen me in every state imaginable. What difference does nudity make at this point?”

She turned, reaching for the robe where Luka had set it on the counter.

“Tessa, there’s glass in your back. We’ll need access to it.”

“So I shouldn’t put this on?”

“Yes, but—” He pushed out another harsh breath. “Maybe slip it on backwards?”

She did so without another word, pushing the sleeves up as she climbed back onto the stool. Theon called to Luka, and for the next hour, the two of them pulled shards of glass from her flesh. She didn’t utter a word. She didn’t whimper or cry out. She didn’t flinch or

wince.

She did nothing.

She was nothing.

When they finished, Theon stayed a step behind as she made her way up the stairs.

Luka had found slippers for her so she didn’t leave bloody footprints behind, and he stayed downstairs, attempting to get a hold of Axel. If Axel didn’t show up at the Emerging Ceremony, last night would look like a godsdamn party compared to what their father would do. His brother had to know that.

Tessa had taken a few steps into their room when she stopped so suddenly, Theon

nearly ran into her.

“Tessa?”

“I have training. With Luka,” she said, turning and heading to the closet.

“Training? No, Tessa,” he replied, reaching out and gently gripping her elbow to stop her.

She snarled at him, wrenching her arm from his grip.

What the fuck?

He took a step back, blinking at her, but she was already back to staring at nothing.

“Tessa, there’s no training today,” he said carefully.

“But I need to learn to protect myself.”

“Not today. You need to rest, to heal,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry as he realized exactly what his actions had done last night.

“I can train,” she insisted, the violet flaring brighter in her eyes.

“I know you can,” he said quickly. “But Luka has to prepare for the Emerging Ceremony. We all do. There’s no training on ceremony days.”

“That’s tradition?” she asked, her head tilting eerily to the side as he felt the weight of her penetrating stare.

“Yes, that’s tradition. Everyone rests and prepares.”

“Oh.”

There was a tense silence before he said, “You need to bathe.”

“Because you made me bleed.”

“No, I…” He cleared his throat. “Yes, because I made you bleed.”

She seemed to accept this answer as she moved to the bathroom, letting the robe slip from her body. He followed, mainly because he didn’t trust her by herself. Definitely not now.

“Do you want help?” he asked, watching her adjust the shower temperature.

She only sent him a flat look over her bare shoulder.

Right.

So he stood in the doorway, watching as she unfeelingly wiped dried blood and wine from her skin. As she methodically washed her hair, letting the shampoo run down her skin when she rinsed it out. As she continued to stare at nothing with every movement.

As he let the reality of what he’d done sink in.

She had been trying.

These last weeks she had been trying to give in to the bond. She had been trying to obey his commands. She had been trying when she hung on to everything he said about the kingdoms, their history, and how they were run. He’d known all along she hadn’t been prepared for this. She didn’t understand the politics of the kingdoms. She didn’t understand just how far things would go, how low others would sink to gain an upper hand. How far he would go to get what he wanted.

She’d been trying when she’d force herself to not fidget at the dining table, to follow his commands, to be what she wasn’t prepared to be.

She’d been trying when she agreed to a Bargain, agreeing to pretend to be what he needed because she didn’t know if she could actually be what he needed.

She’d been trying when she let herself try to enjoy time on a Chaosphere field, letting them see a side of her they hadn’t experienced. When she’d let herself laugh and let him kiss her silly under the sun.

She’d been trying when she’d told them why she’d run to the river a few nights ago, hoping he wouldn’t do the same thing to her. Hoping he’d understand. Trusting him not to be the same oppressive thing to her.

She’d been trying to care when no one had truly cared for her in so long, she’d stopped caring about anything.

She’d been trying to learn, trying to understand, trying to do what was expected of her.

She’d been trying, and all he’d done was tell her it wasn’t enough. That she wasn’t enough.

That he needed her to try harder. Needed her to be more. Needed her to give and give and

give.

And now she was this.

She’d stopped trying.

She’d stopped trying to be anything but the unpredictable, wild thing she was.

It wasn’t her fault. Everyone had demanded something of her she simply didn’t know how to manifest. Instead of teaching her to harness her wildness, she’d learned to simply survive with it.

She’d repeatedly told them she had more self-control than they realized. He hadn’t understood what she meant until now.

She was going to emerge stronger than any other Fae. She would be stronger than many of the Legacy in Devram.

And she’d stopped trying to control her chaos.