Page 29 of Inheritance
But why would I change when it was so clear she was in love with the other men she had met before me? She would never give them up—that much was clear—and I would never accept them into my life.
How different would it have been if she’d met me first? We could have lived the beautiful life that I’d imagined for us before she’d known there were other mates her soul was fated to claim. Could I have satisfied her every desire then, before she knew who else was out there?
I could have been her everything, instead of the nothing I was to her now.
I couldn't help the roar of frustration that tore from my throat as I finally accepted that she wouldn't ever be happy here with me. No matter how many years passed with her being kept separate from the realm outside of my castle, she would never grow to love me. No...she would only grow to hate me more.
The castle walls trembled as I accepted defeat when it came to the war in my heart. Striding over to the dining room door, I flung it open so hard it created an indention in the stone wall behind it. I took deep, ragged breaths as her cries became louder with every step I took in her direction.
"Luce, you stupid bastard! Let me out!" she screamed, followed by broken sobs that ripped my heart to shreds.
Why did it affect me? She was crying over other men. Why did I still want to dry her tears, kiss every inch of skin they had dripped down, and apologize for putting them in her eyes to begin with?
Fuck this.I was the devil and ruler of this realm. She should be ecstatic to have the opportunity to rule by my side.
I came to stop in front of her room and stared intently at the door, knowing there was no going back after this. Could I let her go? Could I give up the chance to be with my fated mate after waiting my entire life to have one?
I knew the moment the fight left her. A heavy thud hit the door, as if her back had fallen against it, and she sobbed hysterically. All of her energy to fight had left her, and she had instead accepted her fate of being locked away, unable to go to the aid of those other men.
The moment I had opened myself up to her and told her my sins and my regrets, she’d seen the broken pieces of me, but it hadn't softened her to me in the way I had hoped. Well, it had for a few fleeting few moments, but it had been short lived.
But she had been right when she’d said I was selfish and that I hadn't changed despite my insistence that I had. Of course she was right. As much as I had attempted to keep my facade in place around her, she saw through my shit and challenged me when I tried to hide and make excuses.
Running my fingers through my hair, I pulled on the roots harshly and began to pace. The truth was that I needed her. I needed her if I had any hope of changing and becoming the man she claimed she knew I could be. I needed her to feel complete, but maybe that's where I was going wrong: depending on someone else to help me feel whole instead of finding peace within myself and accepting who I was, before asking her to accept me.
Because what she needed...wasn't me.
Growling in frustration and rage at that truth, I slammed my fist into the wall, enjoying the feeling of the stone biting into my skin with a hiss of pain. It was so much easier to feel physical pain than emotional.
"Luce?" Amare called out softly, followed by a hiccup and sniffles.
Coming to a stop once more in front of her door, I tentatively asked, "May I come in, Amare?"
When she remained quiet, aside from lingering sounds of soft crying, I added, "I promise to attempt to keep my anger and bloodlust out of this conversation."
I couldn't help the upward curl of my lip into a half smile when she scoffed loudly and responded, "Yeah, right. As if you're capable of that."
Damn, I loved her sass and snark so much. She was so fierce and steadfast in her morals and would accept nothing less than what she deserved.
To my shock, she opened the door and motioned for me to come in, seeming docile. I saw the fire burning in her eyes still, though, as if she truly thought I was going to start arguing with her off the jump.
Could I really blame her? My temper was shit, and when it came to her, it was as if all my emotions were amplified. Be it my anger, my passion, or my territorial urges.
Dropping into the large sitting chair opposite her bed, I saw her narrow her eyes suspiciously on me, and I had to fight the anger brewing in me at seeing her face swollen and red from crying. I had done this to her. The woman I’d sworn I would never hurt and would treat like the gift she was in my life.
It hit me then...this was why I needed to change. Because I couldn't fucking stand to look in the mirror and face who I was and how my actions hurt her.
Closing my eyes, I took in a few steadying breaths, and when I opened my eyes again, she was sitting on the edge of her bed with her brows raised at me. "So, what do you want from me now? I've accepted that I'm truly fucking stuck here and that you don't care if I grow to hate you or resent you by keeping me here. So, what else could you possibly want?"
Balling my hands into fists, I drummed them against my knees as I asked, "Do you think that maybe, in another life, we could have worked out? If you didn't have other mates? If I hadn't gone to sleep and had instead atoned for my transgressions?"
My questions definitely caught her off guard because her head jerked back and her brows knit together. Her gaze dropped to the ground as she took a moment to ponder my question. Her lips pursed as she answered, "Those are a lot of what ifs..." and trailed off while she took a deep breath and looked at me. "There's a reason our souls were fated for each other, Luce. I can't deny that. But perhaps we aren't ready. Maybe we need to grow separately before we can grow together."
Her words were honest and lacked any bite to them. I didn't deserve her softness on this subject or the spark of hope it inspired in me at the idea of maybe one day being able to work through this with her. I knew it wasn't meant to be, anyway. It would take far too long for me to change within her lifespan.
Swallowing down the emotion that clogged my throat, I croaked, "I truly wanted nothing more than that, Ama."
A soft smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she said, "That's the first time you've called me Ama."
