Page 45 of Dominion

13

SKYLAR

The lights wereon in every single room when I exited the car I borrowed from Zoe after that whole shitshow with Casimir. I needed to get away from everything and everyone, but the entire time I spent walking down by the beach of this tiny town, I couldn’t shake off the guilt brewing inside my gut after I had dismissed Dylan so coldly, deciding that I couldn’t talk to him.

And I probably should’ve.

For the first time since he had come back, he actually wanted to talk. He actually sought me out, and, as usual, I chose to run away instead of facing the problems. After all, it was much easier hiding from your troubles than trying to solve them.

It was easier living in self-pity and fear than finding the courage to march on and, what was that saying, grab the bull by its horns? I found solace in that diary of Medea, of the first Red Maiden, ignoring what was happening in the present. I didn’t like having Casimir here, but maybe he could truly help.

Maybe accepting help didn’t mean we were weak—it actually meant we were strong enough to accept the facts, and the fact was that we couldn’t do this on our own. Zoe, Indigo, Atlas, and Cillian tried helping, but they had their own lives. They had other things they needed to do. They couldn’t babysit us, whilewe pretended that we weren’t in the middle of the most fucked-up situation of our lives.

I had promised myself I wouldn’t fall apart. I had promised myself I would see this through, that I would destroy Judah Blackwood and have him pay for everything he had done to me and so many others, and I failed. I broke every single promise I had made myself, letting the fears and regrets take over instead of smashing them down when I had the chance.

There was my family inside this house, and I had failed them in more ways than one. I had failed them when they needed me, separating myself from the two most important people in my life, and for what? For self-pity? For the inability to talk to Dylan because I blamed myself for what had happened to him?

Earlier when I practically ran from the house, taking the keys from Zoe without answering her questions of where I was going, I only had one thought in my mind—I wanted to get high.

I wanted to forget everything. I wanted to forget that I had a brother who knew I existed but never deemed it necessary to pull me out of that house. I wanted to forget that I had a mother who I’d never met, but my brother had. I wanted to forget that my life was anything but normal. Just as I was about to turn right, toward the house where the dealer I met not so long ago lived, I decided to turn left, onto the road leading toward the beach.

I screamed and yelled at the unfairness of this life. I yelled for the little girl who wanted nothing more than to feel loved. I cried for the life they stole from me, for the injustice of it all. I cried for all the women who came before me, whose choices were taken away from them.

And somewhere in the middle of that crying and that entire breakdown, I became angry.

I understood Ophelia a little better now. I understood that cold exterior she carried. I understood why she did it. Why she lived her life the way she did.

Because no one else would. No one else apologized for making her the way she was. No one said that they were sorry for taking everything away from her.

No one fucking apologized to me, yet everyone expected something from me.

Ash expected me to be strong. Even when he didn’t say it, I knew he needed me to be strong because he couldn’t be strong for all three of us.

Dylan needed me to love him even when he didn’t love himself.

But who loved me when I hated every single part of my soul?

I was surrounded by so many people who wanted to help, but their help was futile when they failed to listen to me. When they failed to see what I wanted. Maybe it was futile because my words only fell on deaf ears, or maybe because I didn’t know how to express what I wanted to do.

But in the sea of all these maybes, I knew one thing—things had to change. They had to change drastically.

I was done sitting around, waiting for something to happen. I was done wallowing in that room, waiting for night to fall so that I could try and forget the rest of the world existed, cocooned between Ash and Dylan, while none of us spoke. We were walking on eggshells around each other, when just a month ago, we had better communication than any other couple.

Or well, throuple.

I wanted it back. I wanted the two of them back to the way that we used to be. I wanted us to talk, to dream, to solve these things. I was tired of running from difficulties. It was time for us to strike back.

My legs ate the distance between the car and the front door, opening it faster than I maybe should’ve and hitting the wall behind the door in the process. The moment the thud echoed around the hallway, the laughter that was filling the air suddenly ceased and several pairs of footsteps rushed toward the hallway from the living room, presenting me with Ash, Cillian, Indigo, and to my surprise, Sebastian, standing there, ready to attack.

The relief in their bodies was palpable when they saw it was me. When my eyes landed on a casual-looking Casimir, who decided to join them mere seconds later, my newfound anger rushed back with the strength of a thousand soldiers.

“Sky!” Sebastian yelled out, rushing toward me with his arms spread, ready for a hug. I couldn’t deny him, especially because I actually liked him, but even he felt that the way I wrapped my arms around him wasn’t how it usually was. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, kiddo.”

“Pfff, I’m only two years younger than you.” He laughed. “But I can see that you definitely have some lines around your eyes now.”

“Oh you little shit.” I gasped, pinching his arm. “That’s for calling me old.”

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