This changes nothing. The words clanged through my head, again and again, that reminder that he wouldn't, couldn't, ever trust me again. I stared at the dress hanging by the wardrobe at the foot of my bed, beautiful, it was absolutely beautiful, gold trimmed, a fitted bodice, the skirts falling just short of the ground, so that I could move freely, apparently Nyktos had insisted, and had insisted on the delicate but study leather belt hanging beside the dress, my dagger still in its sheath. He'd allowed the dagger, only because I could never hurt him with it, but a part of me dared to hope that it was because he knew that it gave me a sense of security. Stupid really, what could I possibly do with a single dagger in Iliseeum? Not much, but it stopped the world from spiraling out of control.
I tore my gaze away from the gown, my wedding gown, for what should have been, what had started to feel like something I was looking forward to, but what had now become the reminder of how broken everything was. Because he would still marry me, but he would not, could not, love me, not anymore, perhaps he had started to, but no longer. I drew my knees up to my chest, rocking slightly back and forth to quell the feeling of helplessness that threatened to crest, remembering the breathing exercises that Holland had taught me. It wasn't working, it wasn't working, it wasn't work- I couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, the air had disappeared, my lungs weren't working, I was falling, falling, falling.
I panicked. The air was gone, and my lungs weren't working any more. I gasped in a short, shallow breath, not enough, and another, my breaths getting faster, faster, faster. My vision blurred, the cursed dress fading in and out of focus, and I closed my eyes, trying to block the tears that had already started to fall. Unbidden, images began to spring to my mind, my lake, my safe place, and, and him. His teasing about catching me off guard in those buildings, him staying with me after the Hunters attacked, the way he'd kissed me by that lake. Ash. I wanted him back, I wanted us back, Nyktos would never love me, but Ash, he had loved me, or he had started to. But Ash was gone, and I had ruined everything.
I let out a ragged sob, I ruined it, I ruined it, I did this, I was a failure, an empty vessel, a traitorous wretch, and I deserved everything, I deserved his hatred, I would deserve it if he killed me, I didn't deserve to hope for his forgiveness, his love, but it would be over soon enough. Still, the thought of that end, it should have held more weight, but it had always been an inevitability for me, so why did my heart ache at the thought of it? I had never considered that perhaps I had found something to live for, something that made my life worth living, because I had, I'd found Ash, I'd found friends, and I had torn it all to pieces, it was gone, and it was my own damn fault.
I hadn't realized just how fast my breathing had gotten until I swayed, even sat on the bed as I was, blinking my eyes open to black spots dancing across my vision. I was dying, I was dying now, and all I could think was that I just wanted Ash back.
Arms wrapped around me, tugging me against a familiar warm, hard body, a hand gently stroking my hair. I sobbed again, because it wasn't real, it couldn't be real, because I was dying, and he was just a fever dream, but just for a moment, I thought I had Ash back, all I wanted was Ash back. But the hand in my hair didn't go away, and another rubbed up and down my back, my breathing automatically slowing, until I opened my eyes to find Ash, Nyktos, holding me,
"Sera?" He breathed, cupping my cheek to tip my head back to meet his gaze, "What happened?"
"Ash," I sobbed, and allowed myself the indulgence just once, allowed myself to feel what could have been as I pressed myself against him, still quietly sobbing as he held me close, allowing my arms to wrap around his neck, to cling tight to him, my anchor in the world. "I don't want to die," I whispered, and it was the truth, for the first time in my life, it was the truth,
"You're not going to die," he promised, "I won't let you."
We sat silently for what could have been hours before I lifted my head and Nyktos, for that was who he was now, asked again what had happened. I just shook my head, not willing to go back down that road, and he dropped the issue, instead lifting me into his arms to carry me up to my pillow, ignoring the swathes of skin on display thanks to my nightgown. He threw the blankets back and set me down, brushing his fingers through my hair as I snuggled into the bed's warmth. But when he pulled his hand away, I caught his wrist, I had been right, there was blood on his knuckles, the skin had been torn open, "You're hurt," I whispered, and he shrugged,
"I heard you crying," he offered as explanation as my gaze landed on the door, or what remained of it. It had been all but torn of its hinges, the lock that had been in place splintered on the floor, the door itself having caved under what appeared to be several powerful blows. "It's fine, Sera, you should get some sleep, it's already healed, see," it had healed, but, he'd hurt himself to reach me just because he'd heard me crying? Tears welled up again, and he brushed them away almost tenderly. I didn't know what to think anymore, one minute he was telling me that nothing had changed, that I was an empty vessel, and the next he would kiss me, care for me, or do something like what he just did, and I just, I didn't know what to think. My mind was still scrambling for clarity when I drifted to sleep, Nyktos still sitting beside me, stroking my hair. He would not be there when I woke.
