Disguised Vengeance

Chapter 16

"Jase?"

With her hands already reaching for her hidden weapons, Catherine took a wary step backwards before reeling around to see if he was regarding anyone behind her. None.

"They are dead because of you." White hot rage and animosity flowed from his voice, chilling Catherine's bones and freezing her blood. Breathing heavily against the stone-cold floor, Jase lowered his head

to the ground with a silent thump and placed a clenched fist to his heart as if to numb the inexorable agony that gripped his chest.

"I don't understand," she voiced her uncertainty, forcing herself to stand still. She was confident that the Jase she knew would never intentionally hurt her; however, her instincts told her that even though they appeared the same outwardly, the man stumbling to his feet before her was not the same person who risked his life to rescue her from the raging river.

The images were vivid, tearing at Jase's sanity with sharp claws that reopened healing wounds. The thin thread that was used to sew the bleeding gash across his heart was rapidly unravelling, bringing back feelings of loneliness and hopelessness. Experiencing the traumatic loss once was torturous, but having to relive The Night six years later brought his mind close to insanity.

Jase's eyes misted over as the dinning area transformed into the Esyrian palace, the way it looked before the war with Bellerania destroyed the south tower, before King Edward redesigned the west wing, and before Jase stopped referring to the grand castle as his home. The king and queen's royal chamber was exactly how he remembered it to be: the magnificent red curtains drawn shut, the marble floor polished, his mother's dresser tidy and spotless, and a small mattress was tucked in the corner of the huge room. He recalled sneaking into his parents' bedroom and encroaching on their privacy whenever he was frightened, and subsequently falling asleep on that particular mattress while using their breathings as a lullaby. Nothing seemed out of place except that the king and queen's corpse lay propped up against the cushioned headboard. That, and Jase's vision was stained blood red as if he were looking through a red eyepiece.

In his state of anguish and devastation, he whirled around to face the man who stood by the entrance to the chamber, leaning against the oak doors with a relaxed posture. The man was tall with a muscular physique. The crest of Bellerania was embroidered on his royal robes at a point directly above his heart. A golden crown decorated his head and a bloodied dagger was secured within his grasp.

"I will kill you." Jase's voice was low and dangerous. His tone held a promise of revenge. A flicker of alarm crossed Catherine's butterscotch eyes as Jase begun approaching her. Catherine backed up a pace for every step Jase took in her direction until she collided against the front door of Lord Jepson's house. Jase's long and slender fingers appeared to be wrapped around the hilt of an imaginary weapon. From the placement of his fingers, she presumed that he was gripping onto a broadsword.

"Jase," she tried to reach out to him. "It's me, Cat. I didn't kill them, Jase. I don't know who killed your parents but I will help you get revenge, alright? They will pay for what they did to you." She meant every word she said.

Observing the usually composed man break down before her very eyes disconcerted her and tore at her compassionate heart. Although he never shared how his parents died, Catherine ached to help him carry the heavy load that was the burden of revenge. She felt a burning desire to hurt the person who had crippled Jase.

All Jase could hear was a loud buzz. He advanced toward the man with the crown, never breaking step at the sound of Catherine's sincere words.

Standing inches from her, their chest almost touched with each breath in. Her butterscotch eyes scanned the room frantically, darting around his broad chest.