DEMON CRY

35.

Amara was quivering with rage and humiliation. Her face was red as she bawled her eyes out in the frozen garden.

Desperate? He'd called her that! The nerve...

She clenched her fists as she racked her brain for something she'd done. After coming up empty, she came to the conclusion that she'd done nothing to hurt his affections. 

It made her wonder if it were his plan all along- to lure her into the 'courtship' trap and then leave her abandoned... after all, he was the Crown Prince. 

Maybe he saw that she wasn't worth the effort anymore. 

The thought smashed her heart into a million pieces. 

She sobbed violently as she buried her head in her hands. 

The best day of her life and ended as in the worst way possible. 

Her mother's heartwarming smile flashed in front of her eyes, igniting hope. She wished she could hold her but spirits were conjured of clouds. If Amara had attempted to do so, she'd just walk through her. 

She had wanted to tell Damien about it. That she was an Octavian- the last one in fact. She was so overjoyed that she wanted to cry over his shoulder as she deciphered every singe feeling that coursed through her- but he turned her away. 

She forced herself to think of her mother and the words she'd spoken to her. 

'I'm so proud of you Amara.' 

 I never took you for anyone so desperate!

She shook her head as his words clouded her mind like poison. 

Why would he play her? 

She was a nobody. 

'You are Amara Octavius, the last Octavian.'

She was an orphan.

'I might not have been there to guide you every step of the way, Amara and that is my greatest regret. I didn't watch my little girl grow up to be kind and strong- but I want you to know this, I have always loved you with every fibre of my being and I always will.'

She was heartbroken.

'My little girl,' her mother sobbed, 'You make me proud.'

Maybe she deserved it because she dared to think that someone like the Crown Prince could feel something for an insignificant being like her.

A moment later, she was horrified at her thoughts. Her mother had told her that she was proud and here she was crying over someone who didn't want to give her attention- just like that the sorrow that welled in her heart transformed into rage. 

With gritted teeth, she wiped her tears and got to her feet. No matter what followed, she would ask the Prince for justification- let him know that no one deserved to be treated that way! Whatever he was going through, he could share it with her and if he were playing with her feelings- dammit! 

'Years ago, a prophecy came to us- the outcome was inevitable. No power we conjured could stop it, so we accepted it.'

Damn the prophecy that had snatched her family away from her, and damn the Prince who reduced her into a broken and crying mess. 

She was furious- at the Prince and at the Octavians. 

How could they not fight back?

She found herself marching toward the Prince's study. For a moment, she hesitated but willed herself to knock the door. She didn't speak, lest he would recognize her voice and refused to open the door. 

There was no response. 

Amara knew she had had enough. She attempted to push open the door but it was locked. 

With the help of her magic, she unlocked the door. 

'Do not ignore me, Prince Damien!' She bellowed as she pushed open the door. 

An empty study stared back at her. 

It left her addled. 

She blinked and stared at the numerous shelves that lined the walls. The desk was untidy- scattered papers thrown haphazardly. It was so unlike the Prince. She eyed the window to see if he could've escaped through it. 

Shaking her head in denial, she told herself that he would never resort to such measures. 

Does he find my presence suffocating?

'Damien?' She called out for him as she walked behind his desk, assessing the papers. They were the usual ones- the ones she had always heard him talk about. 

Her eyes fell on the upturned chair. 

All of a sudden, it was as if her heart had stopped beating. 

'If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, my child. I-' Her mother's word halted and she stared at the ceiling. 

Amara had thought it was because she was struggling with emotions. She had replied with- Mother, I wish you were still here with me- but now when she was in Damien's study, she felt it. 

It was the strange magic that her mother had sensed. 

Fear took over her.

'I wish the same, my dear,' her mother had replied, 'But you must understand, to save her child, a mother would do anything.'

Tears filled her eyes. 

'Damien, this better not be a joke,' her voice trembled, 'you're scaring me.'

Dead silence was all she received as a reply. 

With her heart thumping wildly against her, she sprinted out of the room. She needed to be sure- the Prince had to be in the castle- somewhere. There was no one else she knew who was more courageous than her Prince. 

For him, she closed her eyes and tried to catch the essence of the magic. It was something the Shalorehad taught her- though only in theory. 

There dark whorls wafting weightlessly in the air. If one weren't acquainted with magic, they would mistake it for shadows. 

It was sickening and so overwhelming that she was forced to retreat from the spot. 

If there was anyone who could help her, it was Phoebe- she'd know how to trap an essence and study it- but before anything, Amara had to be sure. 

She called out for the warriors that were stationed near the study, at the end of the corridor. 'Did Prince Damien leave his study?'

'No, Lady Amara,' a warrior replied. 

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, we've been here the entire time,' another spoke. 

She inhaled sharply as her deepest fears echoed through the hallways. 

It wasn't a joke. 

Thanking them, she sprinted toward the Shalore's room.