The Touch of Demise │18+

46: The Admission

GRACE

That night, all the wolves were given rooms within the palace. Demise asked for one room for them to all share which was understandable by Ophir given they were on foreign lands.

No one spoke as they filed into the room. No one could. Demise focused for a moment as did Xerxes. Wolves had heightened senses, better than the fae, so they could pick up if anyone was near. If anyone was listening.

Demise shook his head as he realized that ears were around. They waited an hour, then two, then at the third hour whoever was listening in must have figured they had gone to sleep because Demise started to speak.

"Grace, I am so sorry."

Grace who had been sitting on the floor looked at her mate who knelt before her. "It's okay. I understand why Rosalie did what she did and why you went along with it."

"I only said that because if anyone would be targeted within these lands it's you. You're the heart of our kingdom," Rosalie pled.

"I'm not mad at you. I promise. It's okay." Grace's eyes wandered to Goliath who was standing by the window on the other side of the room. His hands were behind his back as he gaze out into the night. She stood up and went to her friend. He didn't look at her.

She gently caressed his arm.

"She's my mate," he whispered. An admission. A curse. A deep sorrow. "And she's in love with another man. A man that has cursed and murdered countless people."

A scream echoed through the castle before she could respond.

"What the fuck was that?"

Demise shook his head at Xerxes. They all followed the noise to the throne room where Ophir sat on a stone throne with Adalind standing at his side. Her hands were carefully folded against her stomach as she watched a young boy be forced onto his knees.

"I am sorry, King Ophir. I-I," the boy stuttered. "I just want my family back."

"You betrayed me," Ophir said as cool as a winter's night.

"Free us! Please! We have done nothing to you!"

The boy couldn't have been older than thirteen years old. Grace watched in horror as Ophir grabbed Adalind's hand and kissed the back of it.

The boy's tear-filled gaze fell upon Adalind. "You are a Regent. Save us!"

Her bored expression didn't waver. "I love King Ophir."

"You are the Queen of Light, The Mother of the Twelve Houses, The Dragondaughter; you can do something. Do anything!"

She remained emotionless.

He sobbed, his head falling for a moment. "You are surviving so that we all die. How can you live with yourself?"

Ophir looked at Adalind as she responded: "My life belongs to King Ophir."

Ophir lounged and let go of her hand before speaking. "You attempted to assassinate me and hold a coup. For those crimes, you will lose your hands and then be killed. Do you have more to say?"

His body shook as he pled for his life.

"Do it," Ophir ordered. His men took out their swords.

"Wait," Adalind interrupted. A pause. A beat. "Let me do it."

He nodded. "Very well."

She stepped forward and went to the boy, kneeling down before him. She grabbed his cheek. There was silence for a long moment before she finally said: "Those names are no longer mine."