Page 69 of Stitches
Ashmedai had been mustering the strength for weeks to finally confess. Cullen was just so beautiful to him. Not only his violet eyes and sweet face, or the way his brown curls tended to fall into his eyes and force him to flick them aside, but because of his heart, so big for his people, even though he doubted he could take on the role his father had left behind.
That waspartof what Ashmedai wanted to confess.
“I know you’ve been debating passing the crown to someone else or calling for a vote.”
Cullen spun around with a frown, still moving slowly backward, nearer to the towering Amethyst gemstone at the center of the square. His clothing always contained violet, and tonight he wore a violet and dark brown tunic with a deep indigo cloak. “I don’t want to talk aboutthat. Not now. I know I have to make a decision—”
“But you’re basing that decision off the belief you’re not good enough,” Ashmedai cut in, causing Cullen to finally stop, his eyes even more brilliant violet with the gemstone’s light shimmering behind him. “I simply want you to understand what you won’t hear from anyone else. Maybe you won’t believe it from me either, but I’m going to say it anyway. You would make an excellent king.”
The usual indecision blighted Cullen’s face.
“Youwould.”
Ashmedai had chosen to make himself look like an elf, because that was the form the first of his kind had taken upon returning to this world. He also thought elves beautiful. He thought dwarves and humans beautiful too. But the moment he met the half-elf prince, he knew he’d never known anyone quite as radiant.
“It’s your doubt that proves how good a king you could be, because what you want more than anything is to see your people happy. You doubt you can do enough, that you canbeenough, but that is how I know you will be. You are a remarkable man, Cullen. I have no doubts about that because….”
This was the second confession and much harder of the two.
“Because I love you,” Ashmedai finished, closing his eyes with the admission.
The streets this late were usually quiet, but normally Ashmedai would at least be able to hear crickets, an owl, a cat prowling. While his eyes remained shut, everything around him was silent.
“Ash….” Cullen said at last, brokenly, and Ashmedai looked at him.
There was no indecision on Cullen’s face now, only grief.
Only pity.
“I’m so sorry, I…. You know I care for you, but….” Cullen pursed his lips, like he hated that he had to say this, but his words were the truth.
“You don’t feel the same,” Ashmedai said, feeling an immediate stingof tears as he tried to look anywhere but at Cullen’s remorse.
How had Ashmedai ever believed one of these beautiful creatures could love him?
Cullen gasped, and Ashmedai looked up again, blinking away his tears so he could focus on his friend—who was staring at him in fear.
Ashmedai gazed down at his hands. He hadn’t been able to feel it amidst his heartache, but the pale color he had chosen for his skin was shifting, fluctuating through the monochrome spectrum from white to black and every shade in between.
“I’m sorry.” Ashmedai lurched backward, trying to will his true form to not surface. He was upset. He didn’t mean to lose the glamour. “Please, don’t be afraid—”
“What are you?” Cullen snapped in accusation.
Ashmedai was failing to contain himself, seeming to lose more and more control the harder he tried to keep it. “Please,” he said again, moving toward Cullen with a crunch of unexpected claws into the cobblestone. “I just wanted—”
“Stay away from me!” Cullen cried, backing toward the gemstone. His violet eyes were saucers of dread, and he reached blindly behind him, finding the Amethyst and pressing a palm to it. “You lied. You tricked us.”
“No, I swear—”
“Stay away! I won’t let you hurt my people.” A pulse of magic surged from Cullen into the gemstone and back again, making it clear he was calling upon his birthright for the strength to fight the beast before him.
Ashmedai’s clothing, his elvish facade, all of it had melted away, revealing him to be a thing of nightmares the people of this world had been happy to be rid of once.
Ashmedai never should have come back.
A spell started to spill beneath Cullen’s breath, too quiet for Ashmedai to make out words other than “barrier” and “monster” and “forever.” He felt a push from the crystal, as though it was trying to force him out of the square, out of the kingdom. Ashmedai should have let it banish him, but instead, he drove through the forces pressing against him, unthinking and desperate to at least say goodbye and rest his hand on the shoulder of a friend one last time.
The large Amethyst became a kaleidoscope, pulsing brighter against the shadowy abyss of Ashmedai’s true self as he gave a final, foolish surge forward, one clawed hand landing on Cullen and the other on the gemstone’s surface.
