Page 99 of King of Ruin

Trepidation works in my bloodstream as I rap my knuckles against the wood.

Antonio coughs twice, the sound somehow a combination of wet and dry. “Come in.”

My hand shakes when I lift it to turn the knob. Not because I’m afraid of the man bound to his bed in illness. Nor the idea that he might tell me I shouldn’t try to be with Kane.

But because I know that my uncle, the last relic I have to remind me of my father, will soon join him in death.

I push the door open slowly, revealing a man I’ve avoided since he became bedridden, and a deep-seated heaviness moves over my heart. His gray ends are swept back, away from his sullen face. His thin frame can be made out from the blankets Cat has tucked in around him. And when he opens his eyes, they are no longer the piercing stones I remember them to be, but instead, glazed over gray marbles.

It’s hard, abysmal even, seeing such a strong man brought down by his own body. It’s cruel really, a death only karma can bring to someone like us.

He examines me for a few seconds before he beckons me inside. I swallow, clearing my throat as I enter, my steps much heavier than they were on my journey here. “Good morning, uncle.”

He gestures to the chair next to his bed with the slight tilt of his face. “Is it morning already?”

I glance at the bedside clock that’s pushed too far back for him to see it, and nod. “Yes. It’s still early, though. Only four.”

Antonio coughs again, his small body seeming to rattle as it jerks.

“Do you want some water?”

He shakes his head. “I’d much rather speak with my niece. I’m happy to see you back home. I knew you would be, of course, but I did worry about lasting until you did.”

The indirect mention of his impending doom spreads a twinge of pain through my extremities. “I’m glad you did. I have something to show you before I use it in the garden.”

Antonio’s eyes flash to the box in my hands. He nods once and I respond immediately, opening the lid. I tilt it toward him slowly and we both look together, the sight one of pure euphoria.

Of pure relief.

He sinks back into his pillow as I close the box and place it next to the chair. “It is done.”

“It is,” I reply but the guilt makes me clarify. “It wasn’t by my hand, though.”

He nods knowingly. “Your guard. His son.”

“Yes.”

“And he gave you his father’s head?”

“Not the most normal way to profess a crush on a girl, even in our world.” I try to make light of the tense air, and thankfully Antonio grants me the smallest of grins.

“Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly. Your idol said that, did she not?”

It’s my turn to smile now. “Morticia Adams, a queen if there ever was one.”

“Youare a queen, Onyx.”

My face sobers immediately, the telltale sting of tears prickling my eyelids. My uncle has never complimented me, and now that he has, I feel as though I don’t deserve it. I shake my head. “I didn’t kill him.”

“Did you kill Sam?”

“Yes.”

“Did you not bring all the others to justice that were there that day?”

“I did.”

His face blooms pink, as if his body wants to cough and expel the buildup in his chest, but he refuses to succumb as he speaks. “And you survived. You survived witnessing your parents' brutal demise at a young age. The training of a man who holds no punches, and the grueling reality of what it is to be a female mob boss. Only a select few can claim the same, Onyx.”

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