A Kingdom of Bloodshed

*¬*Chapter Twelve*¬*

She's gone. Just like that she's vanished from my life. It's been twenty four hours since she left my home but it feels like longer and she doesn't even understand why. When Augustus returned from dropping her off, he had no qualms with rubbing it in my face. With flaunting that she chose him over me.
That hurt.

I've spent the last day flipping between deep sorrow and anger, one minute I'm sad that she's gone the next I'm angry at the words she said, at the assumption.

She thought I was doing what was best for myself, for my people, but really I was doing what was best for her. I knew she was in trouble if she stayed here, so I felt it was necessary to send her home, where she's safe and protected.

I knew Tara would have tried to kill her if I didn't intervene, that Augustus would keep pursuing her if I hadn't stepped in.

If I was doing what was best for me, she'd still be here. But she's not. She may never be again. Frustrated, I storm from my study and out into the hall; trying to process what I can do to make it better. To try and convince her that I did what I did for her. I've barely taken more then five steps down the hallway when I see Augustus leaning against the wall, his posture lazy, casual. Like a cat that's spotted a mouse but hasn't decided to strike yet.

"What do you want?" I growl. "Now brother, that's rude. It's not my fault she chose me to take her home. You're the one she hates, not me." I think I'm about to see red. "Are you hearing yourself? You've assaulted her, hurt her, made advances on her that she's asked for you to stop and you haven't. If anything she hates you."
"Didn't seem like that when she was pressed against me on the way home."

Now I do see red. Snapping, I rush forward slamming my brother into the wall and gripping his throat in my hand, "If you ever speak of her again, I will end you. I don't care if you're my brother, you don't get to make comments like that about her."

Augustus simply laughs, "You won't do shit. You're too soft Kaz." I snarl, my powers rumbling beneath my skin, "If I recall correctly, it was me who beat you when we fought last."

"That was just luck. You won't win again." Growling, I shove myself off him deciding that commenting isn't worth my time. "What? Not going to reply?" Shrugging my shoulders back, I turn swiftly on my heels and say briskly, "It's not worth commenting on." Before he has time to reply, I storm down the hallway and slip out the back door leading to the garden in the back of the house.

I haven't been here since... since Beatrice. I kept it maintained but refused to go out there because of how much it hurt me to see it. The memories come roaring back with a vengeance, causing me to sink into the stone bench beside me. Once I'm seated I look around the garden, memories of both my mother and Beatrice float to me. The smells in here are chokingly sweet. There's rows of small shrubs, bushes of roses, peonies, and tulips. Their scents mixing together that it makes me dizzy.

My mother loved the peonies, all the different colours they came in, the smells. Beatrice loved white roses. She said that the white reminded her of light and purity, that it was a hardy flower; ironic that she stained that purity with her betrayal. How she took their thorns and stabbed me with them. That buried rage comes bubbling to the surface, strangling me. Leaning forward, I place my head in my hands and sigh. Althea left, she didn't really put up a fight, just accepted what she thought was the truth and stuck with it.

There's nothing I can say to make her come back to me, to help her see. Pushing to my feet, I stomp out of the garden and enter the house. Floating up the stairs, I enter my chambers slamming the doors shut behind me. The finality of that click permeates through my senses, causing me to feel such rage that I let out a bellow.

The shadows skittering away from me, my magic swirling before it bursts from me, shooting into the room and swallowing it. Shredding the curtains, the walls, ripping the couch and causing cracks to appear in the fire place mantel. My dark powers ripple from me, the pain in my chest swelling even more, causing the glass to shatter; the sheets on the bed rip in half. Everything in this room groans and breaks. Shattering to the floor and leaving me roaring in frustration that I've lost her.